When i am asleep, i dream naturally
My mind forms images that are not calculated by any mathematical or grammatical sanity
They are squiggles beyond the bounds of time and space
They are fierce and rough and out of place
My dreams are not a part of my world or a substantial image of my face
And if i truly think about them in my rational state, i can't explain them or argue their case
So they must be nothings, thats all i can say
But when I'm awake and can see and form and draw and structure my reality
I can create my world and decide its ebbs and flows, be the the future of it all dim
So if being asleep means being trapped in the realm of insanity
Then being awake must mean freedom in my reality

I don't like passions
That passion the lovers speak of
I keep those fires at a great distance
I use them for heaters
I can feel their heat and not allow them in
To breath life to foolish hopes or give entry to sins
I don't like passions or those types of things

Torched my soul to cure the bleeding
Ate myself whole to stop the feeling
Burnt to a crisp, I stumble and fidget
The man at the back of me step forward and whispered
That it hurts when it hurts, there's no peace when healing

Our hands couldn't touch because they were too similar
So we decided to put our backs together instead
And faced opposite sides of the world
So that our lips would never utter the same words ever again

fingertips on my chest
Palms to my rib cage
He feels me before he touches me

he's untouchable

I used to drink alone,
But empty bottles emptied out the spaces between me, myself and I
Us three opinionated things accusing one another of being the godhead of our body
Talking until dawn about how ****** the beer tastes and hollow the bottles have gotten