I have you in my sight
Time to take that picture
Saving it with your name
So you can look yourself up
Tell me where you are now
I need to know for your safety
Forget about privacy
Everyone's life is becoming an open book
Film all of your surroundings
to give memories more meaning
You look so much more happier
with that shining bright filter on
Slave of the new media
Need to confirm my existence
So please give me your opinion
to make my wasted days count
Conversations made
through meaningless stares at the screen
Real emotions never shown
Only delivered
Have you heard the news?
Why are you ignoring me?
Because everybody else has heard
about the truth of my lies
Mar 7, 2017
Mar 7, 2017 at 5:16 PM UTC
*Her luminous eyes embrace the dark as
she is in love with the mad world we live in.
And as the world is destined to decay
will you show me around before its too late?*
Jun 17, 2016
Jun 17, 2016 at 12:04 PM UTC
Miss Therapist,
I feel like i'm stuck between suicide and rebirth.
The road of survival was a hard one filled with painful sincerity & honest sentiments.
Its hard to stay hurt in a world where everyone is a victim or chooses to be one.
21 and sick and tired of being sick and tired.
Got something for me Miss Therapist?
May 14, 2016
May 14, 2016 at 11:53 AM UTC
‘When the doors of perception are cleansed
Things will appear as they are:
Infinite.’
∞ William Blake
…
‘There are things known
and there are things unknown,
and in between are the doors.’
∞ Jim Morrison
…
Moment of inner freedom
when the mind is opened & the
infinite universe revealed
& the soul is left to wander
dazed & confus’d searching
here & there for teachers & friends.
…
People need Connectors
Writers, heroes, stars, leaders
To give life form.
A child’s sand boat facing
the sun.
Plastic soldiers in the miniature
dirt war. Forts.
Garage Rocket Ships
Ceremonies, theatre, dances
To reassert
Tribal needs and memories
a call to worship, uniting
above all, a reversion,
a longing for family and the
safety magic of childhood
…
A man rakes leaves into
a heap in his yard, a pile,
and leans on his rake and
burns them utterly.
The fragrance fills the forest
children pause and heed the
smell, which will become
nostalgia in several years.
…
An angel runs
Thru the sudden light
Thru the room
A ghost precedes us
A shadow follows us
And each time we stop
We fall
…
The Endless quest a vigil
of watchtowers and fortresses
against the sea and time.
Have they won? Perhaps.
They still stand and in
their silent rooms still wander
the souls of the dead,
who keep their watch on the living.
Soon enough we shall join them.
Soon enough we shall walk
the walls of time. We shall
miss nothing
except each other.
…
No one thought up being;
he who thinks he has
Step forward
…
The Crossroads
a place where ghosts
reside to whisper into
the ears of travelers &
interest them in their fate
Hitchhiker drinks:
“I call again on the dark
hidden gods of blood”
-Why do you call us?
You know our price. It
never changes. Death of
you will give you life
& free you from a vile
fate. But it is getting late.
-If I could see you again
& talk w/ you, & walk a
short while in your company,
& drink the heady brew
of your conversations,
I thought
-to rescue a soul already
ruined. To achieve respite.
To plunder green gold
on a pirate raid & bring
to camp the glory of old.
-As the capesman faces
poisoned horns & drinks
red victory; the soldier,
too, w/ his trophy, a
pierced helmet; & the
ledge-walker shuddering
his way into inward grace
-(laughter) Well, then. Would
you mock yourself?
-No.
-Soon our voices must become
one, or one must leave.
…
There was preserved
in her
The fresh miracle
of
surprise.
…
open
The Night is young
& full of rest
I can’t describe
the way she’s dress’d
She’ll pander to some strange
requests
Anything that you suggest
Anything to please her guest
May 14, 2016
May 14, 2016 at 11:27 AM UTC
*It paints her mouth
the one that breathes fire,
and kisses the burns.
Deep reds and somber blacks.
Her petals caress his skin
so that he cannot escape her sweet scent
and he gets lost
in the desire he has for her.
The paint on her lips keeps her sane
and stops the demons
from escaping through her lips.*
Apr 13, 2016
Apr 13, 2016 at 6:46 AM UTC
pretty names, but you have the prettiest.
angel's white dust pushed around by
the dingy desert winds dry meadow murmurs.
heated leather seats, **** smooth leather pants
and slender, skinny beautiful body with
a name attached to it, smoke smelled
of burnt raspberries
and the conversation burned like them too,
i feel things for you and perhaps
transparently similiar damage
bleeding rubies out like sap
the conversations dripped like sap too.
Apr 9, 2016
Apr 9, 2016 at 5:38 AM UTC
My views on immortality and depression are equal
You can't die if you're immortal and depression lets you feel dead inside
Nothing can hurt you more because you survived it and felt nothing at all
And you keep surviving the same old routine wondering if it even affected you like it used to.
Cursed with immortality
Pain is the passage between life and death
You scream and cry because you don't feel the pain
Feel nothing at all
And by the time you're 50 the marks should already be visible and tell tales of hope and survival
Even if you're lying by then, you don't wish them the immortality that got you stuck in the first place
Apr 9, 2016
Apr 9, 2016 at 5:37 AM UTC
As the grey fades away
Maybe then i could say
I'll marry the day
Because i know this day
Will last an eternity
The sky looks blue and infinite
Just as colorful as the dreams
Apr 9, 2016
Apr 9, 2016 at 5:21 AM UTC
*Don't relieve her from the pain that life gave.
Her wounds are permanent reminders of her life in bloom.
She is a flower, this rain keeps her alive.
Between the grey clouds the sun will shine for her
And after that summer she'll be one with the petals in the wind*
Apr 7, 2016
Apr 7, 2016 at 6:05 AM UTC