The tears in my eyes,
they sting
like black smoke from a burning fire.
It's intoxicating.
Dangerously beautiful
drawing you in
breathe it in
until your lungs are black as coal.
I'm choking on your smoke.
What an amazing feat!
My soul is crushed in the atmosphere.
When will it stop?
When I'm dead?
Or shall it stop before?
I'm so abstract.
Have I lost myself?
Or am I just seeing myself
for who I truly am
for the first time?
Stalling, stalling my falling.
Sincerity melts with the flames,
revealing the true face of evil.
I know it can never be the same.
Excuse me while I vent
don't try to understand
I know you never can
because I will never tell you.
(But why?)
Excuse me,
while I possibly lose my mind
a clear headspace I need to find
and that's where my savior jumps in.
My creativity
where music is my life support,
art is my blood
and literature is my brain.
There to keep me possibly sane.

Your eyes are as blue
as the depths of the deepest, darkest seas.
Let no others do them justice
as their radiance shines a path to my heart.
Two shining sapphires in the dark.

Silence isn't forgiveness.
I may stay quiet,
may seem sound
but that's only when people are around.
There is a difference.
And I'll avert my eyes to the ground
whenever you are around
as you pretend
it's okay.
I'm that type of person
that if I'm feeling a certain way
I'll act like I have nothing to say
but you should know by now
that's not true.
So when you act
like things haven't changed
like they've stayed the same
it hurts more than you know.
But people change,
and I guess that's fine.
Yeah, people change
and they'll change your mind.

Let's play a game,
it's called the Blame Game.
I'll pass the blame to you,
I'll pass it back to me.
I'm a puppet on your string,
I dance as you twirl your fingers.
You move pieces on the checkerboard
with your mind.
There's no need to come in contact anymore,
you've already done the damage.
You do nothing but sit back and watch
as I tear myself apart.
I now do it all for you.
Your work here is done.
Now watch as I fight with myself,
in the place where you once were.
Watch as I still cry, even though,
you’re not here to hurt me anymore.
Watch as I try to repair,
severe damage that you've done
to my body,
as I pick the splinters out of my heart
one by one,
that you've so elaborately placed.
And if I'm asked to,
for some reason,
I'll still put my heart on the line for you,
though you are unworthy of my loyalty,
just as you somehow deemed me unworthy
of your love.
And how?
How did you think it appropriate
to trade out your family
for such a relationship?
But I guess it's my fault, huh?
For not making my feelings clear?
Even though I tried so hard to be heard?
What else did you need?
Should I have screamed?
It couldn't get much clearer than that,
than my pain-filled shrieks
in your bleeding ears,
directly in front of your eyes,
oh so glazed over by “love”.
And yet I sometimes blame myself
even though I know
that if I was crying tears of blood,
you would have still turned the other cheek.
You've broken me so much,
I've lost sight of normalcy.
I can't find
the true definition of family anymore.
Let's play the Blame Game.
It only takes one person
as long as they are shattered enough.

Don't you see my heart inside
is breaking deeply, as I cry?
Or do you tell yourself these lies
as you stare at her with cursed, loving eyes.
I can't fully blame you, I try to hide
but you don't care to search,
don’t care to try.
I know I try to seem big and tall,
but inside of me feels very small,
and you’re the reason when I feel tears,
I wipe my eyes before they fall
because I'm ashamed.
I don't want to be a human,
full of these emotions,
and a huge throbbing heart
that can be stabbed until it bleeds.
and if I'm sad,
I don't want you to see
because that means
I let you get to me.
But it was truly inevitable
since I couldn't keep you away.
And it's a shame,
that you don't care you hurt me.
Yeah, you'll pretend you don't see,
and I'll pretend I don't care,
but I'm just feeling so weak.
And we’re still family, right?
But with the things that you've done,
you know you've broken that bond.
It's funny how you’re one of the only ones
I let into my heart.
I gave you a special place,
with a reserved seat,
and it didn't take you too long
to slowly rip it out clean.
And you try to act like you don't know,
or that you just didn't notice,
and I'm just so ignorant
that I went with the flow.
I still recall those good times
when we all used to play
we would have such good times,
we would waste the day away.
but now I realize the whole time,
I was only a pawn
to get closer to her
and when I was kicked out,
you two would play alone at dawn.
It was a cursed love.
It was never meant to be.
I guess it could be compared to
Romeo and Juliet,
with all intended irony.
You never really cared about me, it seems,
and yet we call this family.
I couldn’t believe you really loved me,
because that's not how family treats their loved ones.
and if it is,
I want nothing to do with it.
Please just stay away from me.
It just hurts too much.
I'm forced to face you,
and act like I'm okay
like I don't go through what I go through.
You expect me to lie for you
and for some reason I do.
I really wish for you to hurt,
the same way you made me,
but in doing so
I’d be admitting I let you hurt me.
I'm too ashamed.
even though I shouldn't be,
you should.
But you'll still act like you don't see,
You'll all still act,
like we're one big, happy family.

I'm a perfectionist.
I'll erase and restart until it's
Perfect.
You'll coat your face until it's
Perfect.
But what is
Perfect?
I read a biblical story
made for children around Halloween.
It was called
The
       Perfect
                   Pumpkin.
It was about how nobody's
Perfect,
but once we die and go to heaven,
God will make us
Perfect.
Inside,
and out.
I was taken aback by these words.
This was supposed to be my religion,
and yet it went against everything I stood for,
and yet it felt like they were disguising an ugly nightmare
with a happily ever after fantasy.
So, I wonder,
what is God's version of
Perfect?
Is he the one who installed this illusion,
this insecurity,
in our brains?
Now, I'm not saying that God isn't real,
nor heaven or hell.
But I would rather burn
in the fiery pits of hell
for standing for what I believe in,
than be rewarded in heaven
for compromising to corrupt ideals of
Perfection.

Where does time go
when a minute passes by?
Some people would say
that it disperses into the sky,
and that it comes back
when again comes it's time.
But I disagree.
I don't think it's that way
Because is the 6 pm today
the same 6 pm from yesterday?
No matter the symbols,
all time is different.
But if it's not here with us now,
does the past even exist?
If every second that passes
ceases to exist,
then where is our proof
that it ever really did?
Every second is different
and even in one second,
everyone's second is different.
A second for one
feels like it could never end
while a second for another
feels like it couldn't go quicker.
You can hardly count a second
and be for sure.
So what is time?
Is time even real?
And if it is
then where does time go
when it ceases to exist?