Get a start, get a life,
Go get you a pretty wife,
Go to school, pay your bills,
Don't forgot to write your will,
Smile more, worry less,
Look, you're making progress!
Buy car, take a trip,
Try to keep it young and hip,
Watch your weight, doll it up,
You really need to fill your cup,
Give it in, Cede to God,
In his power, you are awed,
And though I try, I can't believe,
The lies that I, myself, conceive,
To fight the cold, impending sound,
Of it all crumbling all around,
And myself being put into the ground

A little discipline oughtta do you good,
Just like my father, when in the mood,
Would lay his problems down on me,
Gave scars that turned to poetry,

So I learned to take the damage well,
And in that time, I learned to spell,
So pain would not mean misery,
And It could hide in poetry

Tonight I'll open the window, just a smidgen,
I'll turn on my night light, and I'll take off my covers,
With any luck, the snow, in it's serene beauty, will cover me,
With any luck, the perfect unique snowflake will dance to my bed

Colder, like something from a memory I had,
A younger self in a northern place, trouncing in snow,
Fighting the accumulation like I was meant to do so,
Then falling down, sinking, and letting the snow protect me,

So I invite the snow, offer my condolences, and allow it in,
Let it lazily make it's way over my body,
Let it's touch envelope me, make me aware of it's presence,
Let it crystallize and solidify around my meager form,

And let the days pass, whilst I sleep,
Allow time to trod on, in my absence,
Force my absence, so that frozen water may heal my mind,
And let me come back at my own pace, on my own time,

Even Colder still, my mind flees from the scene,
My body is numb to the white fluff that detains me,
My memory etches a figure standing, staring, misunderstanding my intent,
My heart slows down

But no days pass, I cannot sleep,
Time does not quicken, as if it would matter anyways,
I am present, mostly, but deaf to a lot,
So I'll close my window and grab my blanket and try to sleep

Helplessly pull my body, mind, and soul,
It tows me gently at first,
Luring me on so that claws may dig in while my guard is dropped,
Helplessly yanking me into the abyss,

It is naught but chaos here,
When I speak, the words echo back mockingly,
Jeering at me, questioning everything,
Determining that I will never be adequate,

I am native to this dark land,
I am a destroyer of the already destroyed,
Nothing is created here, nothing of worth,
Anything of worth is borrowed from someone or something else,

There is no room to breathe here, no oxygen in the air,
To think such vast space could harbor so little,
Nothingness rotating, floating, and gliding from nowhere to nowhere,
Nothing but space to think, and no good thoughts to think,

But I embrace the nothingness, for it is all I have,
I appease it with my loud silence, and let it's tendrils dig into me,
I let it berate and harass me, and I do not speak a word of it,
Because it is all I have, and I may not leave

You pulled me close,
Shoved my lips to yours,
Told me there was something,
Something hidden beneath all the stress and drama,
Some shining light to seep through and bring us together,
Some reason for the bleak, endless days, and the lonely, sleepless nights,
You told me it was love,
You loved seeing me hear what I wanted to hear,
Excited, like a stray dog getting attention,
Rubbed, and complimented, lured with sustenance,
Taken off guard, to end up in the firm embrace of a net,
The deed of the catcher, come to take it away and have it put it down,
So I believed you, again, for the third time,
And followed you, tail wagging, off to the pound.

A light blue tinge to a dull gray backdrop
Focus on the brighter of the two,
It's a matter of selection, with time in tow,
You need the brighter of the two,

I, too, require luminosity,
I shun this duller place,
Where echoes bounce and constantly berate,
Where a maroon chokes out the blue,

I should/could have done a better job,
But 50/50 didn't feel like 50/50,
It felt like I was grabbed and torn apart,
For nothing more than a touch and a (fun) game,

I can write these words for myself,
It's not scribbled, but typed feverishly,
Not in hatred, but maybe temporary disgust,
My mind trying to reject the truth,

The truth being I'm not ready,
I'm overly attached to sentiment, I stumbled,
I stumbled right into this dim cave,
Where there is naught but stone and soil,

Dig as feverishly as you type,
Put a seed in the hole, cover it quickly,
Don't hope or pray but just watch and wait,
Maybe one day the suns rays will parade in,

Perhaps, that day, the bright blue will envelope you,
Perhaps, that day, you'll crawl out of the hole you stumbled into
Or perhaps, when you get what you want, you can stay,
Realizing that a cave is not the worst place to be

I treat my life like a joke,
I drink, I smoke,
I can't keep a steady job,
I cave, I sob,
I'm not really one for human contact,
I don't attract,
I'm not sure if I want to live or die,
So I don't try,
I've nothing bearing semblance to a goal,
It's awful dull,

I hope to sing, to sing a song,
Of hope that I may carry along,
And find a reason to justify,
The bleeding heart and tired eyes,
A quest for which I could stake my life,
A reason for the pain and strife,
I'd be happy, to defend to the death,
A cause to justify my breath