My wildest thoughts are like dreams, dreams without a speech
dreams without art
and dreams without an ending
‘Without peace
and without vengeance,
‘Without love and
Without death, and
In all of the above
I’ve listed my worst nightmares

‘The things we tend to forget,

Everyone will encounter the empty thought, and everyone will
choose to ignore it
and everyone will live the nightmares
while everyone is to scared of their dreams
But it’s our choice to confront them
Punish them into submission
Tightly grasp them so
we can never let go
So we can always squeeze onto our hope
and our hope
is not
                         Lost
Our hope is our dreams
Our hope is
Our wildest thoughts

‘Don’t marry the nightmare while you sleep with your dreams

Lines are dead
And the structure is ******
Messy
         All over the place
Some profound meaning
Is meant to be read
        So
Keep writing, maybe you’ll
Find it
One day
Deep down inside
Between the flesh and bone:

What it all means.

I died yesterday.
Doesn’t exactly mean anything
How could it?
I woke up, went downstairs
to see two kids eating, smiling.
I look across the table
to a chair full of nothing
trying to say something
She died yesterday
for something
I don’t know what for
but She died yesterday
and that’s it.

A great musician is someone whos a
Rhythmic Philosopher
getting life
perfect in the music
But most of the time being
completely useless at the real thing itself

My Paper is a blank reflection of myself waiting for my words to paint it in
its purest form
to show the world who I really am
and its never actually something that i want to read