Why does it hurt so much to get up?

Oh how I wished I could dream

Some escape from this prison called reality

My head is never my safe haven

I just want a day without worry

No more stress, no more worrying about finding you

I just want to look in your eyes again

As we look up into the stars

I just want to see the reflection of the water on your eyes

I just want to feel you next to me

I've always been in the snow

I've always found it fascinating

How something so essential to us

Can freeze and become unique

Only to never be appreciated

For what do we do?

We plow it away

Away from our paths

And drudge on by

Oblivious to the lifetime of stories

We slowly crunch underfoot

I've always wondered why

Why god cries frozen now

And as I stand in the snow

With no protection

Of the mental or physical kind

I can't help but mirror gods actions

And create decrepit copies of my own

So much like my own words

I can never be the original

Only a sham of a copy

This is an oppressive cold

The cold that bring the dead memories

Or maybe the memories of the dead

Back to life

The kind of cold kings are afraid of

The ones that **** indiscriminately

The grip of the reaper is absolute

And only in his grasp

Do we find what made us happy

The streets have been skinned of their inhabitants.
The bone glistens as the high moon worships.

You know it well,
all life with a price.
A tag to every word that escapes a lip.
That no life is eternal,
or at least far as we know.
You must do,
to have,
then soon we all go.
But rather than fretting,
rather than dark depths.
Take the price tag and pay it,
as it won't rip off.
Take the price tag and pay it,
though it may rip you off.
Take the price tag and pay it,
since there is never a choice.
Take this price tag and pay it,
and work for what you want,
or demolish the store you built,
leaving holes in all you've got,
watching the land beneath you tilt.

i wrote a poem in a bathroom stall
somewhere in a city
where i fell in love
between inked skin and
glasses of amber liquid.
a band i've never heard of was playing
in the basement and i was
wishing on prolonged goodbyes,
only to surrender to
technicolor street signs
and
broken nights of
what could have been.