Water trickles over a dried up brook
Into a stream of boiling water down into the deep
Where this goes we may never know
It’s the road we call “less traveled”
But what about those souls that have to burn their feet?
What about the children who can’t keep up to the beat?
Not only do lost souls find themselves falling further into the deep
The light on the other end is getting harder to see
And, at one point they had a chance to turn back
But chose the path “less traveled” to see what was in the black
Soon they become weary and try to rest
But, the boiling water will not let them stop
They must keep moving to the sounds of the drums
Some fall off into the water, boiling away into nothing
And, some, some make it to the end of the brook
To meet the man to take them across the River Styx
This is where the journey ends for those souls who refused redemption

Confined in a box
Waiting for someone to poke some holes
I can’t breathe
There is nothing in here
Not even a place for me to call my own
Four walls, not all even but make a square
I’m suffocating
Waiting for someone to poke some holes
I wish I knew what was beyond
I wish I had the strength
I am so dizzy
Waiting for someone to poke some holes
In a corner, small and tight
The air seems warmer here
There something on this box trying to get in
My heart is pounding
Waiting for someone to poke holes
A little shake, lock and key
Confided in my box I no longer shall be
The waiting is over

Heart aches tossed on beach
Once horizons so stunning
Red sun drowns in sea

I've been here
Playing with words
Playing with hearts

I don't know
.
.
.
I don't know
whether to hate you
whether to love you
whether to **** you

I don't know
.
.
   .
.
I don't know
whether to harass you
whether to caress you
whether to kiss you

I don't know
.
       .
           .
               .
                   .
I don't know
what love is made of
why I see stars in your eyes
why am at crossroads

i can't write anything
no idea
no words
feels like my brain is literally locked