Every corner, is just there,
And the former, sit so bare.
Everything, that I'm aware,
Has no thing, to hold me there.

Unblemished? A woman, yes but yet unfinished. A long way off from her goals and ambitions. On her way? Yes, but yet the road is long and hard, and riddled with frigid winters.

Your heart is not a bureaucrat,
waiting on tax returns.

Nothing is in writing,
nor verbal contract.
The only inking is flushed skin upon contact.

It is implied.
It's the high road.
It's when the bed shakes during a storm;
It's when the grass grows again in the morning.

I love those who are far away,
And romanticize the distance.

A person's still a person, but they can still put the stars in your sky.
A person's still a person but if you're hurting, they'll see the scars and ask why.
A person's still a person but what if they can light up your life.
A person's still a person, but a person can be your purpose, in time.

She's a model of imperfections,
Flaws fall on her face in ways that define grace,
She's a goddess without direction.
Her words encourage and lace dreams to a place you can reach if you just believed.
Her upper lip juts out a little too far so her teeth can clink yours in toast to good times when you kiss.
She's a little too short only so you can sweep her off her feet with a little more ease.

It's like the things that I write, don't sit quite right with the people I idolize., it's like the things that I write stay out of sight, and are never truly recognized. Though they cut like a knife, spread bare my insides, show you just what it's like, to be living a life, where you already have died.  Bare witness to my demise, it will end as a suicide in the future sometime, to that I testify.

Kept to myself in vagrant spaces, now left alienated and out of placement. It's kept my mind racing, but that's incarcerated in the basement. Now I'm just playing faces, praying this life will stop being so degrading. But I tried that and just keep on failing. Today I learned that my skins just a waste of spaces.

Revenge is sweet. But really is it?
Anger is defeat, seems more realistic.

It's a **** shame, how that happened, and how it is, was it magic? Or was it ****?

If we're talking taking risks and ignored advice.
When falling to your lips heard,
"Boy, better think twice,"
I asked if stars hurt the sky.
To grant a wish this longing kid;
In making yours and making mine,
Slipped and closed the distance between,
You and I.

how do you sleep?
when you feel so sick?
I just feel too weak.
Nothing will heal this, i need to weep
hurting, but you wouldn't see
how could you ever, put your faith in me.

I make myself sick.
I'm sick in the head
I pray for a fix
But we're already dead.

I wish to learn all the curves of your lips,
How they lie,
How they taste,
How they pray,
How they take smaller creatures,
And convince them to stay.

Smoking cigarettes again, haven't got much chance at anything I can barely think. As I lay here on, my, bed. Listening to the very music that makes my heart stop dead.
Stuck on death, solving all your problems with a slit of your wrist; wondering how you ever got like this. Is it really cause your mother drinks? Or because it'd "always work out" when it never did.

Sometimes I think to myself,
Ah!
The World's better off without me.
And then I think to myself again,
Ah!
I'm better off drunk.

How can I feel, that what's meant to be will be?
All that I had been, I've destroyed so happily.

I feel my spirit drift to yours,
It's not exactly a good thing, is it?
Do we know,
What it was,
All my colours,
And all of yours,
A blur,
A brown,
A morose.

Don't be afraid to bloom.
Don't be afraid to be a late bloomer.
Don't be afraid to be a late, late bloomer.
Don't be afraid to be the last,
Late bloomer.
All there is to know,
Is that you will bloom,
And there is nothing to fear.

I am not only some peaceful stream of the forest,
Twinkling beneath songbirds,
Watering romancing deer.

I am also the river that cuts through the mountain,
That carves the earth to better fit my ease.

The one bears dare not cross.
The cascading ire,
Raptors are unfit to tame,
With any bellow.

Men will come to know the rocky bottom,
And winding parts,
Men will come to know their helmets and life preservers,
Won't be salvation,
When I say that they shall drown.

Butterflies turn to moths in the drapery of your stomach.
They spread,
And the feast begins on the fabric lining the masonry of your summit.

Your satin sheets,
The place you come to cradle dreams.
Who knew,
Were vulnerable to these wing'd beasts.

**** a sweetheart,
Leaving cavities,
Remember me by's,
Memories,
Both warm and unkind.
All just a toothache.

I want to peel your skin as I peel your cloak,
Envelope you as any old song goes.
Curtains wail a blistering night,
Between you and I,
And the shutters ghost,
The furnace's spite is all it knows.

She makes me scream on the inside,
But like,
The good scream.
The scream like the one you'd type out as "asdfjhkjgfdh'l;"
The scream you'd exclaim for ice cream.
That scream.
That's a pretty good scream mate.

You were the feather, and I was the paw.
Who could have ever, been the strength that I saw.

A horror movie scene as the heroine escapes.
Everything is still besides her convalescing breath and the distant, chasing wind.
Not a noise is heard except the fall leave's rattle and the birch wood's moaning bark in the moonlight.
Her body slouches into the protection of a lone shed, and shrouds itself in the aroma of cut grass.
A tense brow relieves and tired eyes close, thankful to receive the momentary peace.

A possible misstep turns the wary peace on end with the jagged cut of broken leaves. The once relieved brow now concedes surprise as wild eyes are cast towards an opaque barricade.
Sly pieces of garden equipment leash a weathered jacket in place as she attempts to stand.
A cackle is heard, a shriek undone.
To spite the brittle wood, the formulaic jump-scare-skeleton-hand bursts through the shed's solicitous walls, set to declare the last of a weary soul as his own.
The wind catches up and spearheads any hole it can find.
It begins whistling around the dim room like a tornado elated to havoc behind a castle's walls.
The tree bark howls, the leaves, now delight.
We learn there is no reprieve for a begging champion.
The camera backs out of the splintered hole, and pans over a silhouetted forest to face the waning moon.
The hero succumbs with muted screams to a gore far below and out of frame.

Our only closure, a black screen, with bright white letters, slowly scrolling up.


The end.

The fire that kept you warm, could take your ******* house,
For ***** sake it could always just burn out.
Drop you off in some dead town,
And somehow through that, you have found, that you don't even know yourself.
Cause the things that you love could burn you down,
Whether it fades or goes out loud.
The things that you love could burn you down.
The ending only seems worse for now.

As this world degrades,
And we've had enough of the old ways.

I can only wonder what becomes,
After this new birth,
Decays.

I know this world's rules,
And those before,

And I may know of what comes next,

But I will not know what rules,
As they call the next of next,

The fool.

My blood pressure hasn't dropped, since the heart attack.
My heart hasn't stopped, since yours stopped beating.
Your heart hasn't started beating, since I stopped singing.
I haven't stopped singing to you, since the heart attack.

One part calm,
Two parts storm,
Three parts shipwreck on the shore.

Four parts home,
More parts gone,
All parts missing the calm before.

You'll never see my messy house,
She'll never see me so stressed out.
You'll never hear an I'm so sorry.
Apologies for what I've broken.

I may be all in black,
But promise inside is darker,
Haven't you ever heard?
Never judge a book by it's cover.

I won't rush myself,
It'll be just like you.
Eyes locked, and so we knew,
Love at first sight;
We'll fall like two fools.

My life is on the clock,
It seems I'm cold and lost.
My life is on the clock.
Ticking my way to empty thought.
My life is on the clock
Inching, to fully dark.
So what the **** do I want?
I want you, to touch my heart.