You’re my Something In The Way,
I see myself seeing you,
But I don’t.
Yet if I say yes to another,
The honesty clawing out, is,
That you exist,
(you really don’t.)

Unspoken truth.

Missing you always did feel like starving to death.
But I'm as addicted to the emptiness of your absence
As I am to the comfort of your love.
So close.
I was so close.
We
Were so close.
And now I want nothing more
Than to die of the lack of you,
However many years it may take.

The Big Bang
the way you slam the door
I just ignore
because I want more

The Big Bang
what you do to my heart
when we are apart
I'm under your spell
like a dart to a board

The Big Bang
when you drag your cigarette
stay for another hour or two
maybe we can listen to a cassette
Who knows whats next?
the universe and I are just as complex

The Big Bang
standby
the derby can still fall

The Big Bang*
is the reason I survive
but the reason I'm alive
is because you arrived

Dear Random Strangers,
            
Your sideways glances and whispered remarks have been noticed.
What you think has no effect actually means the world.
I would like to ask you...
No...Beg you...
To please stop judging me because of the marks on my wrist,
Allow me the chance to tell you my story,
Before you put the damaged book in the trash.
I know my corners are dog-ear,
Yes some pages are ripped,
And my cover is torn and scratched.
But looks can be deceiving.

Random Stranger, I know we haven't met
But every time one person disregards me,
It becomes more easy to believe I am trash,
And it makes me want to throw myself away...

Shave your head
Paint your face purple
And wear a zebra jumpsuit

Eat with both hands
Wink at passing strangers
And live in a secluded cabin

Join the circle of oddies
Tainted by social norm

I don't want to be perfect
What an incorrect prospect
I like my defect
At least I'm not an object

My eyes do not resemble suns
My words are more like guns
Aimed at your sons
I've only just begun

My hair is not soft and fine
You simply cannot define
Or enshrine
Standby and do not whine

My thoughts are not innocent and pure
Nothing is secure
But I am certainly not your saviour
My behaviour brings danger
I am not your entertainer

My hands are not are not flowers
I have different powers
Which devours and towers
Over your mouth as he cowers

Nature is not just beautiful
And neither am I
How dare you belittle it with unsuitable lies
Save your goodbyes
I am not your demise, that would be unwise
Do you not realise I have a disguise?

I am not  perfect
Yet you could never recreate and resurrect my imperfections
Save your affections
I need to find my own directions, away from your infectious reflections

Vulnerability is scary
I guess that's why I'm always wary
In the palm of another's hand
I solemnly stand

Vulnerability is scary
Someone I know barely
They could *bury me
In debris

I'm flesh and bones
Their words could be stones
The way you shake when you're crying
Or when you blink when you're lying
Because inside you know you're dying

When I tell you how I feel
I may begin to heal
This is so unreal-
Yet I still fear that you will squeal
What I tried so hard to conceal

Vulnerability is scary
I would like to say contrary,
I feel like a freed canary
How very wrong
I've made another prison
With bars made of vulnerability

My secrets have become a liability
For I foolishly trust
You will not run
When we are done

Vulnerability is so scary

i find it quite sad that the only thing stopping me from beng who i wish to be is a certain sequence of numbers.

numbers seem to have more power over people than any god or government-

this world was built-

and will burn-

because of numbers.

bank account statements cause stalemates between myself and my ambitions-

I am chained and restrained by my credit score, cruelly kept from exploring distant shores.

men slay their fellow man without a second thought

for a fat stack of cash and thoughts of what could be bought.

John Lennon imagined a world with nothing to **** or die for
no posessions too

but money is the cruel hand that tears that dream in two.

for as long as the concept of money
is the fire that drives men's hearts to beat

we will never truly see peace,
living at the mercy of the balance sheet.