The game stops being fun,
When you spend a night full-throttle,
And can't remember if your headache's,
from a needle or a bottle.
The game stops being cool,
When you throw up in your yard,
When you look inside your mirror,
And behind your eye's you're scarred.
The game stops being fine,
When you start to fear a hug,
Because you almost check their pockets,
For some money, for some drugs.
The game comes to an end,
When you realize what you are,
When you give in to your urges,
And you OD in your car.

I reel you in with honeyed words,
That only you can read.
I reel you in with hooks and spears,
I reel to make you bleed.
I speak to you in riddles,
Decode them with my smile.
I speak to you in poetry,
I speak to you in guile.
It's not you I'm deceiving,
I'm too busy with myself.
I write my book of ciphers,
It's there for you on the shelf.

Green tea, red fire,
Glowing in the place.
Black screen, white tusk,
A poised trunk with grace.
Pupil-less and empty,
Stare into the soul.
Thick flesh-less life,
Ebony and coal.
Distinctly creepy in its eyes,
But beautiful without.
Distracting from its evil,
With the fountain of its spout.

There is nothing worse,
Than waking up from a dream,
To see that she's gone.

Take a trip on a pill,
It'll be quite a ride,
Swallow the tablet,
and swallow your pride.
Lose yourself in the haze,
That it casts on your mind,
Open your eyes,
The stars are aligned.
In this trance you can see,
The you you want to be,
But don't get too close,
Or you'll never be free.

Breath the air in zeroes and ones,
Gather your forces and gather your guns,
Feel electricity flowing through you,
Paint oozing red from pulsating blue.
A network of neurons fuels violent vigor,
Process their fear and pull on the trigger.

Was it a mistake?
Or rather, what kind? Was it,
Carelessness or recklessness,
That brought you to hit send.
It's like every time I start to think everything is going to be okay,
You come back and knock that down.
In person, or in my texts, or in my memories, or thoughts or this ******* stupid website where we confess the ****** things in our souls.
If you want to talk, I will.
But if you have said all you have to say to me,
If you don't want to be the best friend I once had,
Then do me a favor, and lose my number.
Because I can't keep being knocked down.
I can't keep lying in bed and holding the stupid clown I was raised with close and cry while it stares back at me without any ******* eyes and then be expected to wake up in the morning and go to the school where every ******* hallway reminds me of one of the times I made you smile.
I can't keep being spied on by my former friends, by the security guards, by my brother and by that ******* staircase.
I can't keep living in this ****** world like nothing is wrong. Because it all is.
It's all just wrong, worng, wnorg, gnorw, ngrwo.