Waist deep in wasted efforts, and so much shame
When music has never stopped being about you
And every song quietly screams your name
Tell me just what am I to do?

Blades and Band-Aids,
Concealers and Pain Relievers,
Sleeping Pills and Abandoned Trills,
Tired Eyes and a Young Sunrise,
Friends That Can Care While I Despair.

The Ocean is her home,

But she wishes to venture places Unknown,

Above her world, The Surface world

Bottom feeders have left her post modem bored,

She is convinced to Pursue "New",

Can you blame her for chasing Waterfalls,

Instead of sticking to the rivers that she is use to,

She fiends to be Free,

From the shackles of conformity

Falling*

sprawled and appalling
on my face,
drooling disgrace, galling

Falling

in love and above, tall in
a flood of enough
smoothening rough, or mauling

Falling

down a dire spiral calling
tired warnings
fired down and bawling

Falling

on deaf ears boring when sure in
death near and above all, or fawning


Falling

in line and recalling
confines and rules in forming
Decisions, once and for all


Falling

The wayside supporting
weight and tired eyes, squalling


*But the feeling of falling is deceiving when believing that the subject moves around the ground
Which is dawning the befallen
When in feeling fallen I feel more than
I am moving but that the world has proven
That I am stuck while it rushes up
And I cannot catch up or take much
Protection from the projected connection
Of the rocky bottom on my rocked cheek
The breath inside me left to hide in a better guest
For life's essential and potentials
Falling to me is not easy humiliation, or needy contemplation,
Only lungs devoid from the impact deployed
And the same dirt, on my tongue and gums, curt
My eyes, unhurt, can never avoid