Looking at pictures reminds me of the good parts. how I use to capture happiness in a jar. Sealed like a pasture. Gated on guard. Protection from being killed. Now rapture has spilled. Escaped the closed ring. In flows constant, unrelenting sting. Crows picks at my heart, it pumps. Innate ticks, timely arts. But it dumps blood into only the bad parts. I try to get over this crud. Sight is the one fleeing I don’t miss. Even still I can’t see the light. It hurts but It won’t quite break me I  Am resilient. Which has become more consequent than welcomeu

I think and I drink, Wright songs and I sing. To get out of this self I've constructed of idealistic personalities. They aren't me im on the brink. I've built my whole life playing tricks with bricks. Closing in what I am to those around me, posing skin the cover of a magazine, of lies. So the **** I hide won't get covered with flies. And I realize I'm becomming of a man so sad he can't even find pride. Not in accomplishment nor companionship. It's fair to say friends are friends until the end sends an envelope of notes unkind giving light to bind myself with what's inside. Because I might someday try. My soul is a composition of led zeppelin and stairway to heaven, baethoven's Symphony number seven. Bellowing strings low and bold. Ascending rings and tones echoing to show a bullet thats blown a hole in my imagination. then strangling inhalation. Creation will cease, a fillnal breath to be at peace. Maybe a surprise. But that'll be the day the music dies.

I lie here debating
At times awaiting
Far a little clarity
In your sincerity
Will you give me
Just some honesty
Is it only my mind
Or you being kind

Here I am contemplating
Its not me perpetrating
But i feel your distance
I mean for instance
I tell you how I feel in truth
I've even given you proof
You use to reciprocate
Now you never initiate
I don't want to leave
So I'm asking you please
Do you want me anymore
And do you know it for sure