Love isn't something he related to as he dove down beneath the black water.
Even for the fog that seemed to permeate the water, his mind felt clear.
Clear that he was on his own.
That his pain was swallowing him up and he couldn't do anything about it.
It was all consuming and those depths so cold only seemed to numb his body but not his emotions and so he stayed submerged as he made his way towards the bottom as though another stupid achievement would improve his feelings.
As though a life threatening distraction would be enough to lure his mind to a constant repeat of why he was on his own. It was peaceful in the water too.
It was raining too and it's heavy drops made him believe he was safer below then he was above.
His fingers stretched out to stroke the bottom and clutch the icy sand that would shout he'd done it.
But his fingers were not responsive and his thoughts almost slower.
The thought of anyone else wasn't instant or painful, but distant and for the first time irrelevant.
Yet even underwater you can feel your tears drip round your face like never before.
There was no view just, darkness.
Quiet and still.
To stay would be happiness to stay would mean not having to love hi-

But happiness isn't found when drowning at the bottom of the ocean.
And happiness wasn't real, but California was.
For him it was the land of the melancholy where every sunset brought new life and not that that meant new love but it meant hope could be found through the etched of orange.

Did the world proclaim we loose?
Or was it just me
Did it in fact not end when my heart exploded from the confides of my chest
Once oppressed now free on display in all its finality
The way it stops and shuts down
Do I stop and give up now
Pull down my banners burn my flags
Watch as it ends and sit and laugh
How I never lost but just pressumed I had
When I could have given up but kept going even when my vision went black and the world stopped spinning because I stopped winning but it doesn't mean that I'm finished it means that I've lost and thus by this logic I can still win
And so I claim this victory
For I lose such battles only to come back a thousand times stronger

Such was blue sea under black sky
Crescent in today's time
14 to 1 was the black rose I gifted
But that poison was mislead and never intended
The pain struck an arterie but my bullets always come back around
Maybe that's why I suffer for so much longer or at least that's what I'm told
Now I'm starved of oxygen such was my deprivation of friends
I couldn't escape so instead I made an exit through the whole in your heart and took out those by your side
This sadness is Unrequited for I made a villain out of me
It's a shame to say that I did break so now I cry silently because I lack the luxury to be free such like the one you write
The inescapable fait I now understand so well you a writer foreshadowing my failure and ultimate demise
I was a poet who chose battles so my death was no surprise

To he honest I'm pretty ******* tired of being on my own
Im not really
But still my lack of love makes me angry
Yet I'm Y
               oU
                    N
                        g
That's what everyone else says anyway
Still I'm crazy and no longer problematic
Happy but never enough to prevent sadness
Out to most but still hiding from the majority
Avoiding the conflict I once used to untimely cause and angry at my protagonistic temperament
Raising it's head once in a foreign land
But it didn't last long because previous pain is still there
The oppositions have since dropped from the ceiling to an unknown cause but my webs are still in position camping out in the corner
a silk prospector expressing only malevolent intent
Never really meaning and now that im controlling the pain it's hard to admit, but there's part of me that still reigns in the areas of that room
Skulking through the tears usually my own labelled jester for those on that egotistical throne
So maybe my confidence flickering and unnerving, split between the characters I get to play between the seasons is one of the significant catalysts and thousands of reasons that I'm now on my own
everyone an opposition on my radar
the choice,
to be a villain for the people of my past or be trampled over by those in my present, an insight into my future.
That's if I make it because my obvious disdain is a recognizable trait like my unbearing love and attraction for Unrequited beauty and my I'll advised impulse to avoid the problem
                     make a list of all my excuses
           And Run to the next person most likely to become my biggest predator when I unfurl infront my secrets and ambitions secret Acts of betrayal while on independent side missions
    Diagnosed as ****** and unmedicated
              Mad when alone
    Discontent with my social standing
  And just wanting someone special to.                         bring home