I* remember the feeling of waking up for nothing
                   The empty, gray taste everything had
        How I'd stare off
Out windows
Or across streets

                              I remember walking to the river
           And the grass not bending beneath my feet
              The current wouldn't change nor stop for me
   And I imagined it would always be this.
               Having everything I had always wanted right in front of me and it not matter

            I remember being stuck in the rain and not getting wet

         Watching
             Quietly accepting what was, and simultaneously not acknowledging what it meant.
    
        It was comfortable, but now *I want control.

A poet is a nightingale
Who sits in darkness in the wood

He sings to cheer his solitude
With sweet sounds noone's ever heard




"In His Land of Dreams"

Somewhere deep inside, in places that remain unseen
I feel I'm rotting away slowly, in the places I can't clean
and I don't know why I can't translate what I feel and what I mean
into words that you could understand.
Each time I try, I betray my right hand,
and have to realize that not even I understand.

Why I can't come forward, it's as if I'm not allowed...
but no such thing is true, and I don't know what keeps me from saying out loud,
and I just wonder if it is only me,
and if this means this is the person I will always be.
I still don't know if I believe there is a thing like destiny.

Somehow I feel *****, deep inside, I cannot change...
even though I wish I could, I cannot reach that deep, it's strange
and if there were a place that I could go in for a soul exchange...
I know I would; but since I can't, I guess at best I'll rearrange

Each time I try, I betray my right hand
and realize not even I understand

Consumed by a life
    She couldn't handle anymore
          Ashamed by desires
       Too desperate to score
               It's just too addicting
   She wants nothing more
Watching everything she loves
            Walk out the door
    Finds money where she can
         But still living life poor
          Too smart to get too involved
     And too dumb to ignore it
             She don't even care
      They all call her a *****
Now thinking, as she sees the knife
           This isn't what she prepared for
    But with a little thought, she knows  
It's what she's always had in store
              As she lays, bleeding out
     On her ****** kitchen floor