Where there is darkness
There are no words

Where there is a void
There are no words

Where Oceans touch the skies
There are no words

Where fusion turns back time
There are no words

Where angels gaze
There are no words

Where tears mix with blood
There are no words

Before the explosion
There existed a litany of  beautiful words

That lay by the way side
Unused

I Painted Myself Black..

He felt awkward and embarrassed
Hesitant to talk or smile, may be stressed?

O he is dark as hell! people would say,
But he never had them much attention to pay.

He hid behind trees and watched us play,
He might have wished to be on the ground some way.

I gazed at him and smiled with delight,
But with fright, he turned away the sight.

So next day I painted myself black,
The beautiful color we people lack!

He stared at me for a while and then laughed
O what a innocence, I too laughed..

I approached him and pulled him on the ground,
Freeing him from the racial rope he was bound.

I saw him confident, and we played for very long,
Feeling happy and singing that song...

I painted myself black... I painted myself black..

O his happiness was the reason, I painted myself black...

This is for the people who don't have the suicide hotline number memorized just in case.
For the people who have never cried sitting across from a counselor because their lives are actually perfect.
For the people who have never chainsmoked a pack of cigarettes while their brain flirts with the danger of "what if..."
Whose hands don't shake uncontrollably with the memories of what used to be.
This is for the people who haven't drank an entire bottle just for the peace of sleep
The people who haven't wondered if waking up isn't the scariest part of their day
This is for the people who weren't diagnosed with PTSD, Anxiety, and Depression all in a spin of words.
The people who don't have to hold themselves together with fake promises that survival is only half the battle.
To the people who have never met the call of a razor blade with the skin of their bodies.
This is for the people who say that mental illness is just whining.
Do you realize just how lucky you actually are?

When brought to you it brings you undue stress
unwelcome guest that turns the soul to red
It comes upon you in your mind's address
a barrier with chains that have been bled

Suffocation that starts a loudly tick
you wrap the condition around your life
you rustle the sheets, and no sleep- lungs kick
and throw away chances-- sharp as a knife

One will claw you, and another will pull
an endless battle-- only you alone
mind is scattered, try to keep a handful
words can not escape, I miss my own tone

At my own hands I sink and fall and drown
surrendering to the trench that keeps me down

I used to be scared of other people
But now I am terrified of myself

I used to hide my skin from other's eyes
But now I hide my mind, and dress how I want

I used to never speak out
But now I want to make friends laugh

I used to beg for happiness
But now half accept it, along with a complaint

I used to crave love from anyone
But now I look at the bigger picture- that no one cares

I used to need acceptance
But now I could care less, as long as I smiled today

I used to depend on others for help or guidance
But now I know I only have myself

I used to annoy others with my O-C-D
But now all I do is annoy myself

A southbound 'Steel Thoroughbred' on the move again
Machinery howls in pain , echoing forever on a blustery
night along the Rico plain
I'm hearing engineers tales , the colorful stories of
the brakeman , the call of the conductor at small town stations* ..