How do you make sense of these waves of consciousness holding both madness and clarity?
Somehow my hands were never full but always empty when put up to the lives of others.
A mirror spun around so many times I can't tell you what face I have to offer!
When approaching identity is at the cost of this sound mind so nice and neat.
I didn't mean to cause this Avalanche,
I just didn't feel complete.
So I delve into myself and knocked on the door that said "do not enter" convinced myself a better part of me somehow lived in there.
Never conceiving truly the idea of what laid on the other side,
When the door locked I found a different way inside...
I tore apart at my soul with a new strategy in mind,
With acid and hallucinogenics I felt I could find the beauty inside of me...

"I'm sorry I didn't know.."
When I snuck in the window to see what I was hiding,
My jaw drops and my eyes swell immediately.
I try to turn back but what has been seen has burned it's way back into my memories.
I started to speak the forbidden words aloud,
I held my hands over my mouths trying to keep my big secret from pouring out but my attempts proved futile.
With this compulsive nature I could hardly say I have any control over what I say.
With realizations only seen when I say words out loud,
Because I just don't think inside this stupid head of mine,
No but I feel so deeply and make a home for dread,
Because I'm no wise man,
I'm just a fool whose been there and back again...

All this time I thought I was numb,
doomed to never feel but when the drugs sink in to my soil *** of a head.
The appeal is so drawing and I just want to look at it.
I'm magnificent, I thought as I gazed into my soul.
I deluded myself with delusions to perceive this beautiful garden,
But when I tried tending to the garden myself,
to see if I could somehow make it any more beautiful,
I realized it was only a illusion.
The flowers were never even there..
Horrified I looked down at my hands and asked what could have caused this?
Raising the question what do I have to hide?
I felt there was something deep underneath this soil *** front,
so wretched and putrid!
What was I keeping from myself?
I've always been the honest and outspoken type so what was it?
Come on, What did I have to hide?!
Curiosity drove me to do it but a tab too many forced me into it!
I slipped into myself and down the rabbit hole I went,
"Hay man are you okay?"
"Yeah man I just had a bad trip"
I saw the truest part of my soul and cried on arrival,
The first thought that came to mind I spoke aloud,
"Well this is going to be hard to accept"
I said absolutely emotionless...

To tell you the truth,
My decent into madness was like waiting for a train,
You could see the tracks shaking and knew that it was coming soon.
You take out a photo of your beloved mother,
But The photograph of her you that kept in your chest pocket was no longer yours,
The ground had ate her but on the back of the photograph reads,
"Be back sooner than you think, I love you but Vegas makes me feel more complete"
This was the first lie I ever told myself,
It was a good imitation of her hand writing but only wishful thinking at best,
But what I didn't know was that a simple thought could throw me into madness,
As I deluded the truth and didn't accept what was in front of my face,
A horrific reality had such a cruel embrace!
And I was not ready for the taste of the concrete that paved rock bottom,
So I let go of the string that kept my mind close by.
I was always the artistic and creative type,
My friends all described me as poetic.
So I wanted to stay by their side ya know?
So I started to think in a factual manner even though it was killing me,
and all the lessons I had learned were derived from my past mistakes,
So I went out looking trying to find if I had skipped over any lessons,
But what I didn't realize I blacked out parts of my memory to protect the image of self in mind until I partook into this journey.
I saw myself screaming "when is mother getting back from Vegas, I hate you all and I just want her to come back!"
In my mind Vegas was not heaven but a location,
In my mind I didn't break down crying in front of a funeral,
Not able to accept how cruel and sudden reality could be.
In my mind she didn't sink into the depths of my forgetful memory,
She was still very much alive but away at the same time.
I couldn't bare the thought of decay taking plague on her vessel.
I realized with a mind like mine you have a tendency to scribble out and rewrite without even noticing.
Her death was ten years ago and if I'm being horribly honest.. I don't even remember her at all...

See I lose people inside my dysfunctional head so I grip onto the ones I have left in the present,
But life is ripping us apart so fast as I tear into my soul to keep hold of them.
The memories I treasure they all fade,
Even the memories that **** me are erased.
See nothing was safe inside my head except for me,
I guess I treasured identity and the ground I keep.
For it's like a room that you tidy up compulsively,
Anything unflattering gets thrown away and is never to be seen.
I guess that's why I talk about my accident so much,
When a madman came and struck me with his truck,
I even saved someone's life but let's not talk about that,
He went on and did some horrible and inhuman things and that's all I can say,
I don't speak aloud what I don't want to recall,
And I wait for my mind to come and sweep the walls.
So I can rid of this attachment that connects me to you,
So I can be pure and free from this up bringing!
But I was good and I did the right thing,
I slam my fist into my head at the thought of the stain!
For there is damage done but I don't want to forget what actually happened,
so I pry my minds eye wide open and all I see is pain and torture,
The skew of life,
Tainted and mutilated,
The twisted curve of fate...
Really I can deal with my own heart break but what good was my own happiness if I couldn't truthfully share it with others?
I needed others to be happy in such a selfish way,
So I rejected happiness and let go of the restraints I placed upon myself.


I gazed into my soul long and hard,
I guess I saw the potential in the black coal,
and even thought I could make a diamond,
I began to write a book and told everyone about it,
"A comma madman period"
I had picked out the name before I even began to write it.
I think it was my ****** up way of telling the truth to myself,
That somehow I knew but my conscious mind was overlooking it.
Youth filled experience,
The breath taking fulfillment,
I described it as a coming of age,
But it was more like being sentenced to life when the voices started going off in my head again,
The steal bars or my mind closing in,
And I suddenly in terror I remembered every time they went off before,
Every single memory I tried to erase...

How do you make sense of these waves of consciousness holding both madness and clarity?
I wanted to be wise honestly,
But I was no wise man,
I was a fool who had been there and back again.
If there is at all a lesson that I can pick apart from this madness,
It is to never break in when the door in your mind says "do not enter"
You'll find yourself at a train station separate from reality,
A real cold desolate place as the tracks begin to shake,
And you're shown your entire life in full as the train passes and you look in on the windows.
The silver winds grab you and **** you dry of experience and passion,
Because when you see your life in full  how can you pretend to be excited again?

In a world where we had it all,
There was absent fathers and hypochondriacs for mothers all around,
Maybe I could be normal one day,
I thought such stupid things all to myself.

Thinking back none of this was my fault,
But the one who points blame gets their finger cut off,
And I've learned to not speak unless spoken to,
After all this time are you even proud of me?
What do I have to prove to get through to you?

All these pretty little pills,
They're the only thing that matters,
They were there when you weren't,
And admittingly I need them to get me through the days,
It was hard to say the least,
Such a lack of control,
But it's all okay,
can you just put your trust into me,
I promise the children are as fine as can be.

How can I rebuild hopelessness,
When we're all so hopelessly hopeful?
Picking at our scabs like their nothing,
And I know in the most dismal of days my heart will sink down into my stomach,
I know this so why do we pretend that everything is just going to be fine.

It's never gonna be okay I see this now,
The forecast is pain and suffering,
I've learned to accept this so why can't you just fake a pretty little smile?
And now I'm even alright when I know I'm not..

The children are crying their ******* eyes out,
Self medicating with these pretty little pills in their mouths,
And before it all goes south and I put this gun in my mouth,
Paint my thoughts all over the walls,
Well I just want to preserve the person I made myself out to be,
The one who makes it through the day,
So no one forgets how strong I can be!

I got lost in a feeling, pried myself open to be understood when every part of my nature said to conceal. I wanted to feel human like the rest of them, I wanted to stop feeling so alien. Distance had become me so I exposed myself and now I’m faltering. My deepest crevices of thought are now known, this openness that kills me has also served me. I realized I was raw art, that the strokes of a paint brush within the walls of my mind were defined by complexities of thought echoing so loud until my lips sung my soul once again. I realized that not everyone could simply understand and I wanted to revoke all I said, I wanted to close myself again but I couldn’t erase the damage already done…
Well I got lost in a feeling, I became slave to it and did all I could to serve this unquenchable thirst that my soul holds. I grab at my heart with both hands and clench so tight at the restraints of this suit of skin that keeps me held in. I felt like painting the walls with my brain and it wasn’t for my disdain towards this life I lead, I was actually fond of life but that’s the thing. See I was so devoured by a moment, that I couldn’t bare letting go, and I knew time would shift and the faces would change but I was so loyal I didn’t want to adapt. I was in love with everyone I knew and life was tearing us apart, breaking us down and I saw the light behind so many eyes that used to burn with the intensity of the sun, fall so dim it resembled an empty void and one by one iron wills were broken.
I felt like crying in rooms full of people, when the alcohol was long gone and everyone escaped but I just sat there absorbing the fact that I was the only one present. That I got so lost in this feeling, in this very moment, I could no longer run. So I waited patiently for intoxication to leave my mind and I walk outside to my car, I put the key in the ignition and drive. The sun is now rising and there’s a baby blue fuzz surrounding me. I parked in front of my house and thought about the hell that awaits for me behind closed doors. So I drove, I broke free, I gave myself away to the bohemian screaming to be set free. Reality was sure to crash upon me, I looked at the sun while it caved in and I called up an old friend but was reminded of how desolate a moment can be when the answering machine fooled me...
I looked out the window and everyone was going on with their lives in full acceptance. The man walking to the grocery store, the people gathered around the bus stop, and I fell slave yet again. I parked the car in the parking lot behind the bus stop being sure to lock my keys inside so I wouldn’t turn back and dug for some change and I walked up to the bus stop as the bus was just arriving, this moment I can only describe as fate. I dreamed of a clean slate and it was right there in front of me the whole time, my life became centered around riding the busses and people watching. I dug my head in a book in fear of being noticed but somehow I feel as if my deepest fear was my only hope now.
So I was waiting for the right moment, a moment to set my mind free on some poor individual and then the bus stopped, it was late and I was the only one on now. Some of the bus drivers knew me by name and I didn’t know whether to feel proud or pathetic about that but as the bus screeched to the stop before the last one. I saw a leg extend, and pull up a person of slender figure, it was a beautiful woman around my age, I felt sorry for her because the only stop after this one was the bus station and that’s where the bus driver awkwardly kicks you off and tells you to go home.
This is the moment that got me, I was in complete and utter submission as I buried my head into an upside down book, the title read “I am the messenger” and out of all the seats she picked the back corner next to me, she sat too close and I couldn’t focus on my book at all, I was too caught by her presence, I didn’t even realize my book was upside down. She looks down towards my book and doesn’t say a word as she adjust it to be right side up and pats the book twice, almost to assure it will stay upright. I looked over to her with my empty cold eyes and starred dully and she smiled a sweet, closed eye smile.
The coals in my head must had found the furnace again because in that moment I was relit, the fire behind my eyes roared and my soul was awoken again. I felt so very human but I also felt so very human, my shyness lead me to falter and she linked her arm to mine and said “do you mind?” I hadn’t spoken in so long, so very long, I almost forgot how and I said “uh-uh… of course” I clear my throat immediately after and say “I would introduce myself but I don’t believe in names” she smiled with understanding and told me to read aloud and I did with no questions. Two chapter later the bus screeches to a halt and the bus driver gestures for us to leave.
The girl grabs me by the wrist and guides me away, we start walking to a diner that you can see the light to in the far distance. Nothing existed besides for us as far as I was concerned, only the path beneath our feet. She starts telling me how she’s seen me before that she’s been watching me from a distance, and she knew I road the bus all the way to the end and that she wanted to ask me why but I couldn’t tell her why exactly because I didn’t know myself.
So I said what I felt “I fell out of existence and the bus helps me feel like I exist” she smiles again and we are just now sitting down for stale coffee and waffles. She starts drawing on napkins asking me questions, the first one read “why did you fall out of existence?”
I scribbled down “I didn’t feel human” and slid it back to her.
She flips the napkin over and writes a simple “why?”
And I scribble down “well that’s hard to explain”
and she writes “well I can understand”
and right as she slides the napkin over the waffles arrive and the sun is rebirthed as it rises and she looks at me and says “it’s a baby blue fuzz you know?”
As she stuffs a fork full of waffle into her mouth. I’m breathless and overwhelmed by a moment that can only be explained by fate and I feel like crying but I disguise it with a yawn. I write down on a new napkin “I think I feel human” and I crumple it up and put it in my pocket.
She asked what I wrote and I respond “the moment."

How fun, to play the devils advocate at every branch.
You flex perspective but come off inconsiderate,
but isn't that a matter of absolute imminence?
When does one truly cross the line of incompetence?
See you could never make everyone happy,
I've learned this!

So as you play pacifier to society,
about the time you make your way across this over developed nursery.
The dominos... Well they will begin to fall!
Crashing down in this pure chain reaction of human displays of art.
All crying out to be heard,
All with eyes swelled so deep they resemble reservoirs.
See any one can be a hero in an instance,
I've learned this!

But watch as faces change when the hero calls for a savior.
Pay the favor back, a man asks to an empty sky,
Pleading... I've saved so why can't I be saved.
The notion of selfishness over rules selflessness,
I'm starting to question if it even exists...

Now time stands still in moments of hopelessness,
And hearts will break when the devil wakes!
Self actualization storming my consciousness,
We want to be seen as Gods looking down at our children,
The ones we saved...
But how do we validate our savior complex when the ones we saved, saved us...
Really you can truly help someone within an instance,
Don't misconstrue, I believe this, I do...
But whose to say a good act could ever live on into the infinite.
The pacifiers, they all fall with mouths dropped in awe,
Am I ungrateful to be given this position of playing God?
Why does my passion call for revenge when my heart calls for condolence,
Utterly twisted, what makes sense definitely mustn't be me...
Imagine being at the bottom of the abyss but being too proud to reach for a rope that assist.
Now whose to fool the trickster himself,
when all I see is how we cling desperately to validation, affirmation and recognition.
Well I don't need it, no I'm not that petty.

To be honest, to be disgustingly truthful,
I wanted to be seen as God when I pushed that man out of the way,
Self sacrifice played sweet delusions that put my own self importance at bay,
I sat there measuring what it truly means to be worthy of transcending this human mold,
Honestly I wanted him to cry in his new fathers arms.
This lease of life I co-signed with one swift motion and here comes the car,
Fury erupts in a soul that was long corrupt before given my choice.
These are the moment where I confided my fears of being human,
I wanted to be God but I could only live so long in this angelic delusion...

I watched from afar and saw as the man I saved grew,
My child was dismal in hope,
And he grew, oh how he grew but I wasn't proud of his development,
No, I saw evil shaking behind his eyes,
Begging to be released,
Tortured souls mutilated into figures bounded by destiny...
See I watched him grow, my child, the man I saved,
Saw him do unspeakable, disgusting things...
Now I plead to my past self,
Screaming besides reality,
The one who could have never known,
This weight is unbearable and my knees are faltering!
I stand now calm before the storm,
Wise as all hell but cynical to the point of corruption,
I saw too much and now my soul it cries,
The boy who once dreamed to be God now can't even be human,
He was robbed of that right with guilt overcoming him,
Now his eyes are these cold, stone-like marbles,
And his soul can no longer be seen,
With darkness becoming of me...

...

Once though it seems so long ago,
This soul resembled a crimson light,
And burned bright as all hell,
igniting passion and will to fight,
Then came the great dim,
Now no longer do I burn infinite,
I protected myself within oh so sweet delusions,
Muffled this roaring, all powerful flame that was my soul until it resembled a mere candle,
Flickering ever so dimly.
I use to burn with the intensity of the sun!
And now, now I was just no one but a victim of circumstance.
As I grew numbness became of me,
And I sought an escape in an immensely cruel reality,
Fate was all too unmercifully and with it now ruling me...
I knew I could never break free from the chains of destiny,
The silver winds that follow me,
The constant whistle ringing in my ear,
I was now, what I was not before,
awake and aware to this candle burning method that is my soul,
Mirror images display a candle burning at both ends,
And we all knew that this could never last,
So why must we pretend?
That the boy who played God could ever truly feel human again...

Viciousness and hostility is projecting the devil inside yourself upon others,
The far thought in the back of your mind that you can't accept, so you lash out!
Not being able to understand yourself must be hard right?
There must be a darkness that lurks inside that you don't care for understanding.
So it shines, it's shines a kind of dark glow,
where the evil inside you is now very much real and no longer a passing dark thought that fades with the progression of a day.
You were provided no escape in a battleground that is a head, that is a prison.

Your voice that shakes like earth quakes,
you never wanted to be pathetic,
so you sought the road of intimidation,
controlling others with fear.

You were so scared of becoming pathetic and the irony in this situation is you fought so hard creating a facade that came off to be strong and hostile,
but really you were the trapped one,
slave to the devil inside of yourself.
I could say I feel sorry for you but that cards over played by now and you don't deserve my condolence.

It's a sort of tough love you know?
It forms like callus in the crevice of an ear drum,
makes you go numb,
I felt deaf for so long trying to clean out my ears of the damage that was done.

You hung there on the cross showing me what not to be,
I resented you in so many ways but then came maturity,
As I slowly realized that in many ways you showed me who not to be,
You sacrificed yourself with such nobility.

It's a shame we don't get to speak through eyes blind coated with concrete,
with ears that don't hear,
pleads all so sincere and neat.
Your skin is aging but you don't see,
contradictory, image of self in mind but the mirror isn't so kind.

With all that said I am no one to cast blame,
more as I am an outlet for understanding,
you were provided no escape in a battleground that is a head, that is a prison.

She just lays there still with a crooked smile holding a bouquet of roses in her cold hands. The accentuated brightness in her cheeks is all I can notice over anything else. It's three in the afternoon and I can only imagine the sun to be hot on her skin as she lays there motionless. I now in this point of time stand in front of a crowd holding up a piece of paper that was previously compulsively folded to about as small as I could possibly get it. Honestly I never ever wanted to open it again.

Their eyes all fixated on me, drawing for an emotional response. I felt an overwhelming responsibility to say what the others could not but even then I found myself drifting into a daze of absolute apathy. My mind was far too withdrawn, I must confess. I sought refuge behind my own eyes. I felt the distance becoming me. I found myself taking in the scenery, I wanted to remember the day as it was and nothing more. My tendency to romanticize has left my eyes sore.

All I could think was everything seemed so green and it was far too bright given the circumstance at hand. The trees looked young with age and I thought it to be kind of ironic given where I'm at. Honestly I wanted so dreadfully bad for God to cry when I could not. I felt wrong for not shedding a single tear when she passed, but never did I question that I was the one who was shook the most.

So here I am utterly numb examining the stitches on a suit I've worn once prior. This suit once tied with wonderful memories of the sacred bond of my parents marriage, now tainted with a day that shall only be recalled as a day of departure. I asked why but thought it to be all too meaningless, a gesture almost but I thought what was the point of it all? no one could ever possibly tell me what this all could mean, they lacked the proper experience to do so.  Death shook the hearts of so many, what made me so special? My overwhelming feeling of self importance played sweet delusions in my head, suddenly I was alone among many, and lacked the ability to connect with anyone truly. From that point on I was acting.

I felt so very alone and saw it as a product of an unfair Gods doing. Nothing on this earth could have made my hands stop sweating in the heat of it all, almost as if they were crying when my eyes could not. The paper I was holding became smeared with sweat and what I wrote was barely even legible after that. My mouth is so dry and my throat won't stop choking up, I can barely speak.  

I look to the crowd and draw no emotional response, I am so alone, I see this now. The echo of despair bounces against the walls of my mind, it's settling in all at once and I begin to lose my ability to even talk. The priest comes to relieve me of this heavy task of reading underneath such emotional pressure and guides me to my seat. I am shaking and he takes what I wrote to honor her, the least I could have done after all she did for me was finish reading that **** letter!

He carries on in my place, his intentions I like to believe were pure while assisting me onto this next branch of my life, he could have never known the branch was bound to break, he could have never known how his actions would traumatize me. With that seemingly kind gesture of finishing my speech in my place, he started the beginning of all my irrational fears, he instilled my phobia of accomplishment. Echoing louder than all the other nonsense fears and delusions that found themselves bottled up in the new found battleground that was my head. He was a scapegoat to direct all the blame and give me a reason, if I couldn't read one measly letter and give that speech I wrote to honor her departure, how could I ever accomplish anything ever? The one thing I needed to do I couldn't even finish, I was weak and I knew it. Absolutely and completely unprepared for the conditioning that was to take place in the near coming future. I was nothing without her and I knew that, deeper now than ever before.

I can only describe the feeling as when you're having a nightmare and you become so afraid you wake up in shock, shaking in fear, but I couldn't wake up no matter what I did. I pinched myself to add to the cruel concrete of reality, to assure myself all of this was real and with doing so I felt a grave dread sinking in me when I didn't wake in a fright that I so desperately craved, I was stuck here in this no good reality. My life had become an on going paralysis from that point on.

The funeral progression came and went and the woman I once saw as my mother was just a memory and a fading one at that. I didn't know what I felt, there was an indistinct numbness and I couldn't really understand any of my emotions. It was my first time experiencing true apathy. I kissed her still cheek warmed by the harsh sun, threw soil on the coffin and watched as the people left to go on with their lives, maybe I should have followed in their steps but as she sank into the ground apart of me did as well.

I wen't through the motions that were to come. I made appearances and I shook so many hands, shared countless embraces, so many forms of condolences offered my way but I could feel nothing. I was a hand to hold and a mask to bury all your guilts. I must have been a skilled actor or everyone is as self absorbed as I was. They lacked the empathy to understand how anyone besides their selves felt. No one knew how truly empty I was becoming.

I wore a mask, first of many I must say, see you needed to be able to act just to avoid people using you. They didn't ask how I was holding up because of general concern, they only asked to put their own guilt at rest, go through the motions and pretend to be sad, so they don't feel like the horrible people they actually really are. Maybe I picked up on all that guilt and transcended the mold of my own emotional limits but it was hopeless.

They related everything to themselves and how they felt about it, they seemingly had the mental capacity of apes and were all trapped in their heads just as much as I was. Thinking back nothing existed during that time to fix how I felt, or mend all the pain I had been feeling.

Many condolences were offered and the fridge filled more and more with food that my increasingly lacking appetite and the settling sickness I felt in my gut telling me this was all wrong. "How could food possibly make the loss of a life better?" I thought resentfully.
I looked for a place to direct all the blame I could but was left with finger pointing back at me, I was alone, grieving and all I could feel was overwhelming guilt. A guilt so astounding, so large of a package, I could compare it to holding the sun on your shoulders, with immense weight and searing hot pain coursing through my veins. A weight so crushing it felt like I was going to be obliterated into dust scatted across the far corners of the cosmos in a single second. I kept feeling like I was going to break any second but held a calm composure as if it were my job. Now the obvious answer was to find an escape, to redirect this madness, to give relief to the anguish I had felt. I didn't want to ever feel pain of that caliber ever again, and I was going to do everything to assure that but how I ask.. How could one ever have a clear conscience, when they felt guilty for things they had not even done?

I want to know of the pain that screams from the inner depth of what you call a soul.

Black and tangent, the painfully mundane, selfishly masochistic… This nature, you hold.


Now I am asking not as a friend who picks you up and fills your head with mindless affirmations,

But as a teacher who guides you through tragedy, hear me!

See it is somewhat of a skill of mine to lend hands to the hopelessly hopeless.


An animal in the corner that bites when you get too close!
We are desperately thin with skin not so tough.
Our hearts are racing and we'll never know what to make of it,
When the loss is so great and pure with potency.
Certainty bares a concrete I am not ready to cement together.


See I am not a friend but a teacher who guides you through calamity, hear me!

Lash at me as you may, I will forgive you every single time.

See I have been you in my past selves and I exercise no superiority when I say… I understand you, I was you.


The questions we ask ourselves are all dreadful in contempt,

We do not know where to place blame so we self inflict.

Our hearts are far too heavy and our passions are burning out quick!


We always say things we don’t mean and accepting this as our human condition was an awful task, I do admit.
But here I am again not a friend in the moments that matter the most but a teacher of cold nature presenting how to grow through such despairs.


I’ll walk through your personal hell and feel as you feel,

I will do all of this asking nothing in return.

For you are a rose with thorns I allow to sliver into my paper like skin.

Aged far too young but I stand infinite!

I often think theirs not a tragedy that makes me of a resenting stance,

Hostilities measured and I don't want any part of it!


See as dying is an art , so is living I now see to full fruition and if you’re bright you will take sail upon the majesty of the bigger picture that guides you into the world of possibilities.

The sacrifice that must be made to open the eyes of those not yet paying attention is far too grave of a price to pay,
I now repent...


See living is an act and we all must participate,

But I bare words far too heavy for the likes of the dull mind.

So proceed with caution-

And when I have my way with you, you will no longer be the same just as I was mutilated and forsaken by deaths untimely swing!

...

The days will come off more radiant I swear, just give it time, be patient my student.

Your undying appreciation for the lives we live will flood your veins for the rest of your days to come,

And the love for this life will blossom once again, from the most hopeless of places,
Though doubtful in the perceptions of present, you will smile once again, this I promise.

You will be like a Phoenix rising from your ashes of perpetual sorrows, so grand and magnificent!

But as for I, I believe in equal exchange.

I will drain your wounds and allow them to become my very own...