It isn't often that the sun refuses to rise.
Lately it seems to need encouragement.
Rising just a little later each day.
And when it is the sole reason that the passing of time is so named.
Everything caters to meet the new requirements.
Disregarding lunar activity.
Heliocentric minds have never felt so embellished.
A chaotic routine indeed.
Favoring those who won the right to stay apexed.
Only when so many fight to stay at the top.
Do all those in the middle lose center.
Compressing the foundation into neat distortions of the past.
Like laughing at irony meant to sting.
Or playing a stringless instrument​ to a deaf audience.
Captivating all the more.
For beauty lies in the only I that matters.

Neon lights paint the streets.
Iridescent. Luminous. A myriad of
Colours floods my mind. They are
Overwhelming, suffocating. I don't want it.
Listless, restless, I'm still searching for the
Echoes; the monochrome echoes of your shapeless voice.

Pave me a path to the moon
I'll walk the whole way
Encouraged
By the silver dust craters
And white light

It looks to be a gentle place
A place to go to close your eyes
And exhale.
A place to go
To have your face touched
And heart filled

On the moon
I will be peaceful
I will revel in the
Weightlessness of it all
And store that feeling in my heart
Remembering it in moments
When I am feeling
Crushed by this heavy earth

And in the meantime
While my path is being paved
I'll keep my moon dream alive
By late night star gazing
And keeping
Silver dust in my pocket

Never act like your a writer .
Or say the things you believe others want to hear.
Art is in never being certain.
The page has no time for half *** lines .

Do not be what you think a writer is.
Writers are ego driven ******* to self absorbed to see anything in front of them.
And thats just there good quality's .


Don't pen it the way you believe that will please others take it down the road as far as it has to go .

Let it get messy let it be awkward.
If your thinking bout other people your ****** to begin with .

You the page the ******* work that is all that matters .
That is what makes you a writer .

Not people blowing smoke up your *** .
Not how many people read it.
Who publishes it and if you made a dime off it.

Make that page bleed .
And **** those who dont get it.
Lemmings have often had to be told whats in .

They think there hip they want to hang around those who have it in hopes they can maybe find it as well.

They are like cancer you listen long enough to there ******* and they poison the well of your imagination.

Never take advice from someone who can't do what you can.

The world is not a play.

Never act just be one with the page.

I never act.

day after day
i promised you
i would never leave
now as i sit alone
broken and shattered
i wish i had asked you
to promise me too

This.

You.
Me.
Us.

It feels like I knew you and everything you are
Before I even met you.

I feel so comfortable when I'm with you.
Like every moment I spend with you
Is more than just a moment.
It's all I ever wanted
And flawless and mine

You are really so much to me and
I don’t think that anyone could get how
You make me feel as if I am
Better than I am.

But nothing lasts forever and
I know this better than anyone.
With my tattered heart's edges
And my abandonment issues.
I know that despite your promises
You will leave.
And I can't stand the thought of being without you.

Not being able to hold your hand,
To hear you tell me you love me,
To get those texts from you
That make me lose my mind.
And make me feel sane all at once,
It's my nightmare.

I know that despite what you feel
Right now, one day you'll see
The beasts in me,
And you will leave.

Babe,
I love you.
I love you so much,
More than anything in the world.
But nothing lasts forever
And you will leave
Eventually.

But for now,
I'll just put you inside of my chest
And hold you in my arms,
Because at least one of those places,
You can't leave.

While waiting at the river Styx, in twisted time untaught,
from branches of the gallows tree, in recollections wrought,
your soul, a beggar’s blanket, hangs in crazy quilted knots,
with dangling pearls and diamond studs in dripping crimson clots,
midst gaping wounds and bulging eyes like fouling apricots,
for wrapped like rope around your throat’s the Reaper’s grim garrote.

How do I describe a smile?
Charming, joyful, soft
So bounce around
And laugh a while
That's how I describe a smile

How do I describe a smile?
Loving, cheerful, kind
So run very fast
And cheer for miles
That's how I describe a smile