As fast as ocean sweeps the bay
legs of crescent carry away
a sea of wonder won't reject
the sweetest moons you collect
in the palm of your hand soft as peach
slender spine strains to reach
the sun in the sky too far for advice
on speaking to creatures fragile as ice
because the sweetest girl, dear Josephine
shielded by blue instead of green
has a smile painted upon the wall
off the museum fortress she dare not fall
because the places you venture will seem
only to exist before in your dreams
never so lonesome as an unshared bed
cluttered with thoughts of remorse instead
slamming doors in the old broken home
cover the windows high with stones
when travels far and wide resume
remember your home is always the moon.

So intriguing a woman behind a glass pane
My friends are falling one-by-one - gun fires twice -
My hopes are high, but I'm scared of the truth

My personality is much like the a-sea
Wake up to the sound of insecurity staring straight back at me
There's so much underneath, but people don't spend much time getting used to me

Oh Mr. Salty won't you lighten up, you're a bit under the weather, can't you see that? Right.
Well it's hard to find motivation, when the motives working forces against you

In a world full of angst and confusion working in circles to exclude you
Your high is mind, and everybody's a liar behind those glass panes
Your fist is punch, and everybody's got a hunch behind those glass panes, ha ha ha ha

Oh Mr. Salty won't you lighten up, you're a bit under the weather, can't you see that? Right.
Well it's hard to find motivation, when the motives working forces against you

We grow impatient waiting for others to make a move,
But.
Intoxication eliminates our impatience, when goddesses start to groove
Techno-saints dressed in neon paints, won't you groove with me now
Your glass panes, much like the Berlin wall, inebriate our minds, and separate our lives, oh no no no no

Sub-conscience deterioration, too self-aware, I'm blowing up
Arrogance, a cultural virtue now, let's breathe it in, and inject into our veins.
Take your substances - a liquid, or a crumb if that's the only way you know out.
Breath it in, and blow your vapors out, cocoon until you bleed out.

Now or never
whether we want to or not
they've got us by the balls
and though we built walls
to defend against these invaders of free will
we will need to be stronger
build our walls bigger and better than ever before
and let them kick out the windows and doors
we'll just brick them up and no one gets in
and no one gets out
and no one but no one knows what this is all about.
but the walls stay because they want us to rot
they've got us by the balls and all we can do is build more and more walls
and who wins in the end?
when we're all sent to Coventry with bags of cement so we can lend some authority to the people up there
and they don't give a damn
they jam us into categories with the same krappy old stories
that it's good for our health while they're spending the wealth that they stole from the miners and while they're dining on beef
we're starving
good grief
and they've got us by the balls
in glass coloured test tubes lubricated,dedicated to the rise of the monarchs
and it can't be for real
we'd never allow that
but laying flat on our back and winking eyes at the sun
is where this begun.
In the minds of the merchants and in the pockets of wise men
in the back alleys of bigots and bigshots
and what have we got?
you know it,
A box full of sawdust and a whole heap of shit
so the walls get a little longer
a little stronger
but they'll break us one day
and take us away to a recycle plant
and they'll plant us as seeds to service their needs
and their needs will get greater the later they leave it
there's a whole load of shit
a coming our way.

Found someone new and I lost the old me.

I miss that little girl that's locked up screaming to be free.

Find that little girl and hug her tight.

She's weeping, trying to keep her head up high.

HA HA HA. HAHA.

Those laughter rang in her ears since she was five,
when the kids in kindergarten called her ugly.

Until now, it still haunts her.

Those words slowly became the monsters that she have came to love.

Because they become her shield.
How can she love herself when she loves the monsters in her head more?

When she can't bring herself to run away from them.

When she listens to them and shut out the ones she holds dear to.

And these people who actually LOVES. HER. BACK.

And before she can love another, she needs to love herself. FIRST.

She. Is me. I, am her.

I have been mourning for these monsters for a while now.

I realized I need to kill them before they kill me.

Before they make me kill that little girl that is crying but is trying to fight her way back.

These monsters have been a part of me that I have been holding on.

I used to hide behind them whenever I feel insecure.

They helped me build a wall to cower and cry behind.

They helped me disconnect myself from the world.
So that the rest of the world can feel comfortable.

Being disconnected gives you time to think.

Loneliness breeds thoughts.

Guess the fuck what?
No more of that bullshit.

My impression is here so stay.

My footprints will forever be marked behind me,
whether I like it or not.
And I think that I need a small spot for my footprints.

For me.

ME.

I crave for understanding and support.

I crave for genuine embraces.

I will explore.

Anywhere, everywhere.

Anything, everything.
And maybe you,
someday, one day.
My thirst for genuine affections
are driving me insane
but is inhibited my angst.

Because…
How do I explain to my mother that her only daughter,
her only child is one confused mess.

I like girls.
I like boys.

I might not like girls.
I might not like boys.

Maybe I like both.

Maybe I am just blind…to gender.
One way or another,
I have come to accept that it doesn't really matter.
Whichever way, I go, it's okay.
I want to stop apologizing for cussin’ around.

Because to me they are motherfucking appropriate.
I am fucking tired of having to be sorry for being me.

I am fucking tired of having to be censored.
Just because some people think that
my orientation is an abomination to the population,
blaming people like me for the demoralization of the institution just because they are the ones without proper education.
But fuck that, this is my identification.

I will never know when the time is right,
so I'm putting the hourglass into someone else’s hand.
I guess I will let time do its job.
For now, I am happy with our
awkward little conversations.
You deserve to know that I am just flattered of your existence.
And y’know what?
I think you do a fucking good job at that.
I want you to exist beside me.
To hold my hand in public
and not care about offending anyone by doing so because it shouldn't.

For now, I am holding on to the hope
that maybe you will accept me one day.
I feel things that I don’t understand when I’m with you.
Fucking kiss me out in the streets.
When our eyes met,
fireworks lit up in my chest but at night
those monsters put them out like rain
I trip over these feelings but hold them back because
of my fear of rejection.
Because I want to be good at being good to you.
Taking out these monsters may all need a lot work but I got time.

Crippled child, crippled man,
crippled lame man,
who could ask more of me than God,
who broke me, before I even came.
and so, gnarled little stump of a boy,
who only felt shame,
he who could have known love,
felt only shame.
How could this happen
It wasn't supposed to be that way,
brave little boy though,
held his head high,
and walked forward,
but who could know the fear he felt,
terrified, he took the next step,
and at every turn, the looks,
laughter and jeers sounded beyond the senses,
How it felt, horrible,
but still the head held high,
such strength and valour,
oh, beautiful child
I am here now,
I am the light in the darkness,
and I can see,
you have returned to me,
and what can a father say,
except forgive me
even a God will cry, at times....

Fly high,
Know your dreams have wings,
Be an albatross...
Clearing above the blue seas,
Until the curve of the horizon,
Can be bent and seen!

Fly high,
You know you can steer,
Tame the winds...
And break the waves;
Even storms can clear,
Giving way to brighter days;
A new season blooms,
Fear not, nay!

Fly high,
And break off from the hibernation,
See yourself with a redefinition;
Even a single prism,
Gives birth to a spectrum!

Life is more than just time
It's more of poem with less of a rhyme.

Sky blue, trees brown, grass green....
You know what I mean?
Maybe it's not coming out right...trying to explain the meaning of life
But like.....who's knows what it is?
I do.
And the answer is:

This space is just for experience.
30 to 90 years of just feeling it.
Doing the things that you need to do,
and giving things back instead of just stealing shit.

You walk through the world just learning.
I sit in class just yearning,
"I need to be out there and I want to see."
My thought wheels keep turning.
And I try to be more than just one...
Because we weren't put on this world just for fun.
No.
We are here for a reason.

But even that's hard to believe because we're suffering treason.
High.
Like the kids these days.
Playing with fire
"You snaze, you laze."

But I digress.
Now, what was I talking about? Oh yeah,
PRESS!
Printing these stories about celebrities who quite frankly,
Just don't mean shit to me.
I mean, shouldn't we be focusing on something else for a change?
How about how the earth's climate has changed?

There are animals who are dying,
Their kind is shrinking.
Oh, and the water level is rising...
And we are still sinking.

Looks like no one is gonna build us a boat
So we all might have to hold onto our breath
And float on...like that band said.
"To be or not to be." Like that man said.
Right? Because our generation is so "stupid"
We have nothing to show because we don't do shit?

Well you just wait and see.
And for that you'll need patience and tenacity.
How about another subject? cause we have plenty of time.
A few years i'd say, but no...that won't fit in the rhyme.
So how about the mind?
It's a brilliant thing.
It controls us all like an ancient king.

Like for example, King Tut.
And i'd go on but you know what?
I just remembered I was talking about life, am I right?
It's already dark out, and as it turns out, I don't have all night.
So i'm going to leave you with this little piece.
And out of everything this is what i'd like you to take with you, please,
People don't get through it easy
L-I-F-E.

But we are strong.
I mean, we're on top...right where we belong.
So really just...do what you gotta do.
I know the advice may be disappointing
But it's all that you'll need, dude.
As long as you do the things that you need
You have nothing to worry about and you will succeed.

So i guess life really ain't much
We talk and maybe think of it as such
But
You know what, forget all the rhymes.
Maybe life really is just...nothing but time.