Why, oh why? my love , does the writing seem more real
than the words that I have told you,and the tears that I have spilled
it seems that only now,at the beginning of this day
I can tell you all I need,and you can not turn away
for what I write down on this page may well be set in stone
though I am merely inches, I may well be alone

I am laying in this bed of ours
inside this home we've built
wondering why you wont touch me
all you speak of is your guilt

you tell me how you want to change
that you're needing to improve
and all the while I'm laying here
just wondering what to do

these millions of thoughts run through my mind
not one better that the next
it all leads back to the same old guilt
it seems I've failed the test

you say that you're happy
while you cry yourself to sleep
but the one who's most afflicted
is the one you choose to keep

i'm a little bit confused
'cause with your attitude
i'm really getting in the mood
but if this is gonna be
casual intimacy
then i might as well
consider myself
*******.

i am standing beside a hole where a soulless body lays
afraid to peep inside
of who it might be
staring back
into my hazel eyes
could my innocent youth be harsh-fully swept away
if it was my mother whose eyes id have to face?

i am standing beside a hole where a soulless body lays
where my ears start to ring with echoes of heavy sobs that soon shred into weeps
whose funeral might this be?
was it possible that my late night bawling to god, to place that husband of hers under the rug, had finally been done?

i am standing beside a hole where a soulless body lays
when my mind immediately hits the ***
might this be the ceremony
to sendoff ,the person with whom i shared my soul?
might the bag of deceased bones
belong to the person
death was too afraid to take,
because of the ecstasy we both did generate?
would this ceremony actually be, my worst nightmare to come true?  

i am standing beside a hole where a soulless body lays
i am suddenly held hostage inside my own brain, forced to see all the nights id been swept away,
under the wings of insomnia
where id been dipped into a deception
making the sky seem like perfect company, in a romantic way
and the moon my dearest friend, in the best of ways

i am standing beside a hole where a soulless body lays
im fed up of being at this ceremony
i now want to leave
the place however
starts to fill with mobs
and never ending sobs
i see my parents greeting guests
and i see my best friend trying hardest to not break
for gods sake whose loss is being grieved in this hollow place
i stumble as i walk upon the open grave
filled with angry puzzles to piece
tears of all these eyes are by now enough, to create an ocean inside this place
an ocean however that i can not cleanse myself in to be saved

i am standing beside a hole where my soulless body lays
and soon i start to realize
ive been a tourist in my own grave

Cherry red nail polish chipped from nights before.
After blacking out she will later notice empty bottles sprawled out on the floor.
Ignoring her shame
she will once again play this game
by promising to have only one more.
Despite previous knowledge
she denies ever being an alcoholic.
She becomes out of control when she is full of liquor.
Why speak out about her problems? When drinking is so much quicker?
With hands decorated in chipped cherry red nail polish
She wonders if it could be symbolic.
She looks down, noticing the cracked lines of what was once a cherry red.
She considers retouching her nails but takes a drink instead.
She looks once more this time understanding the cracked lines of what was once a cherry red.
She considers retouching her nails but takes another drink instead.
She wonders if it could be symbolic
with hands decorated in chipped cherry red nail polish.
Why speak out about her problems? When drinking is so much quicker?
She becomes out of control when she is full of liquor.
She denies ever being an alcoholic.
Despite previous knowledge.
By promising to have only one more
she will once again play this game.
Ignoring her shame.
After blacking out she will later notice empty bottles sprawled out on the floor with
cherry red nail polish chipped from nights before.

it twisted
when i sat idle
hopeing off her horoscope
online, read a few
after that i do a painting
something like she’d do
little flowers smiling fruit
health veg and neon cities

it hard
when i sit back
tip ma cap down
chillin'
then wham
i slip and gotta climb out a pit
overrun with  a thousand clones of her
muddy and they’re all babbling questions
everything she ever said streams lucid
concerned 'help me’s tangle
soft 'love me’s whisper
i turn
and she asks me to leave

it easy
after a spliff
or a bottle of wine
a slice savoury unconsciousness
any bite of smoke

its wrong
that we’re going to forget this

she’s ignoring it hid round the corner
waiting till i'm gone
jumping into a river of ignorance
blaming it on being young

its
stupid
that i even give a ****

That even i care so much

tho yes
it over

but where do we leave it
somewhere we might find it?
charity shop?
the attic?
maybe she’ll give it to a friend
or she’ll paint over it and just know it was there

on her own she might trace where we drew
and shed just half a sigh
skip a heartbeat and roll back to bed
she’ll wish for that last kiss

but once you’ve killed it its dead

I'm drinking good coffee and eating good foods and watching fires burn low and gazing at crisp, clear, sparkly night skies.

And you aren't!

I'm reading books. I'm watching films. I'm listening to new music. I'm learning new things. I'm meeting new people and growing, growing, growing.

And you're not!

I'm creating art works and planning and writing and going new places and exploring new things. I am walking up city side walks and down country roads and hiking up old trails and seeing ruins.

And you are not.

I wish you were here with me; doing these things.

**** you. You aren't.