I've got whiplash from all the places your swinging me,
you've got me in heaven, you've got me in hell,
falling asleep against my chest, keeping me at arms length,
what am I and where do I stand on this blurred line you've drawn?

Under threat of death I bob and weave,
desperately dodging these juggernaut blows,
thrown by ghosts and devils I can't see,
and it's only a matter of time until I get caught.

But still, this one step from death adrenaline,
is the only time I can be sure I have  heart,
its the only thing I'm still in love with,
how could I ever leave that behind.

Late night headaches and trouble breathing,
limping up the stairs and wincing through hugs from my mother,
and yet all I can think of even with all that I've lost,
is that intangible thing I only have when I'm barely alive.

I've sold my soul for a one in a million gamble,
I've bargained my sanity for sweat and belief.
A belief that for once in my ******* life,
I can stay alive by moving forward instead of running away.

My heart beats a steady rhythm as I wage this fragile war.
My fists fly through the air and my feet trace a circle,
around an opponent only I can see.

As I sting and dance I watch it move,
liquid failure given shape,
threatening to devour me and all my pride.

I can't let it touch me, the demon that I fight,
I have to fight, have to win, or else I've lost it all.
because I am a sinner, but I still want to be the hero.
I am a monster, but I still want to slay demons.
I killed my angel, but I still want to play knight.
And so I trace a circle and throw punches at a ghost in an empty ring.

Staying up despite the pounding headache,
as my ghost grins at me from the mirror,
The same lines circling my brain like a snake,
wishing for miracles because I can't face my fears.

I know I hate myself but at this point I'm numb,
to my ghost padding along in my shadow,
just like I can't feel the thud as I hit the canvas,
or the cold of another night surrounded and alone.

I hate my voice that's so full of cliches,
but I'm a fraud poet so they're all I have,
I keep saying the same things over and over,
and expecting my ghost to listen this time.

I don't want to die happy, I want to die insane,
driven mad by my lust for success.
I need nothing and no one at my death bed,
because if my name is remembered I'm not dead.

I want to bleed and cry and break my body,
all for a few minutes of fame and glory.
Even surrounded I'll still be alone,
all so that when I'm in the ground I'll still be known.

I'll wander like Cain through the world,
with a damning mark I put on myself,
I'll wake up too early, go to bed too late,
I won't ever be happy, because I want to be great

I've relearned a lot of life lessons because of you, things I had let myself forget.
Never get invested in someone who demands that you be 'low maintenance' if you are going to stay in their lives. Don't fall for bedroom talk, it means nothing. Anyone who calls themselves selfish is likely telling the truth, especially if they know what they're asking will hurt you but they continually ask anyway. Cowards confuse anger with bravery, but you shouldn't. People who are incapable of looking past imperfections will not only be miserable, they will make anyone who tries to love them miserable as well. Working on flaws is important, but so is recognizing that any kind of relationship, platonic or otherwise, is based on a commitment to work past flaws that cannot be worked out because the whole of the person is worth that small sacrifice.

Sorry I fell for you. Bad call.
I was an emotional pit stop,
and now I'm *******,
and you do not care.

I get it. I actually do. I used to do the same.
You got what you needed from me.
A shoulder to cry on, some feelings,
and now I'm inconvenient.

I'm not angry at you, just myself,
because I keep being taught,
and I keep on forgetting,
the difference between someone who cares and someone who needs you.

I get away with it all the time.
I fight in crowded streets, in quiet stores,
I'll throw hay makers in china shops.
You bet your *** I brawl in public.

But it aint for the rush that I throw a punch,
nah baby its survival, straight darwinism.
I got enemies everywhere I turn,
and I can never keep them down.

They always got a bone to pick.
some got grudges, some just think Im a *****.
tomato tamato, I take em out they come back,
and start another brawl in public.

So if you see me sitting in an empty seat,
muttering and writing feverishly in the street,
stay out of the kitchen cause you can't stand the heat,
and leave me be while I brawl in public.

Self destruction is a prerequisite to be a fighter,
we play ****** knuckles with ourselves till we're nearly dead,
just to prove that we are unbreakable, invulnerable,
and yet we still end up staining everything red.

We're all scars and trophies, made of contradictions
disciplined yet still all ruled by addiction
we can win any fight but can't beat this affliction
that we bought with our souls and conviction,

And then one day father time refuses to wait,
your knuckles scar over and your nose heals straight,
and when you die all you'll be able to show at heaven's gate,
is these scars, empty trophies, and the beautiful violence you used to create.

Dark times and bleak signs circle in my head
As the devil whispers in my ear while I lie in bed
Coming like the raven at the final bell
To carry my unworthy soul down to cold cold hell

The dead prophets of false messiahs
Whisper eldritch mantras peddling the souls of pariahs
And begging me for my own life
As the new moon glints with impossible light on the edge of the knife

All these decaying archaic arcane ramblings bouncing in my skull
Slicing through my grey matter like knives and leaving me dull,
I come face to face with the dead prophets and the devil they serve,
And then I wake up and hide from my mirror.

God I'm so tired I just want to rest
but there's this dull pounding pain in my chest
ramming against my ribs when I try to lie down
and that's when I realize I'm still underwater, about to drown.

So I swim to the surface and try to stay strong
but I can't keep my head above water long
because the waves keep pushing me back under
like they follow the drumbeat of the crashing thunder.

my vision goes dark and my limbs get heavy as I gasp for air
but of course, just like everything, there's nothing there.
So I dive down to find the anchor around my ankle,
lean against it, close my eyes, and fall asleep.

I'm in the middle of a two face Gemini genocide,
people tell me that I'm Jekyll but the mirror says mister Hyde,
I have a room full versions of me that have already died,
keep em locked in the basement veins full of formaldehyde.

Oh won't someone come stitch me back together,
stretch my skin over new bones so I can feel better,
wash the aftertaste of my failure off of my tongue,
get the ashes of my innocence out of my lungs.

I'm sorry that I'm singing this, I swear I'm not your fault,
I want to be a better man, but this is my default.
I'm split in so many pieces that it seems I've lost my mind,
When did I choose pride, and leave my soul behind?

Oh won't someone come stitch me back together,
stretch my skin over new bones so I can feel better,
wash the aftertaste of my failure off of my tongue,
get the ashes of my innocence out of my lungs.

hope you don't see this side of me, I'm sorry if you do
I just wanted you to know that I'm trying to be new.
I don't want to be the way I am, I don't want to be Mr. Hyde,
please don't lose your faith in me, I'm still alive inside.

Oh won't someone come stitch me back together,
stretch my skin over new bones so I can feel better,
wash the aftertaste of my failure off of my tongue,
get the ashes of my innocence out of my lungs.