When the clicks go click and the rifle has a kick;
Behind your head. Those bullets rip
a part of your life, from the outside- in. your heart.
It trusts a little harder.
;My razor has the power on the counter, And im stuck in the shower.
Trying to climb this curtain tower.. spinning with the room.
Still.. I lay, without power.
My arms, weary.
My legs are weak
and my nose. Clogged purely with powder. But it's not flower;
My drink is sour, I try to cover it with caffeine, Gum, and hours;
I want it to work,
But without options or chowder. The choice is;  live or die. I haven’t power,
No money, Just a coward. But I see it.
nor money; or regret,
the pill will make it better. But with drug tests, and stomach upsets I can’t.. I can’t waste it. A chance to be made. Or forfeit. But I won’t quit..  
It’ll hurt a bit. At least for a time,
But **** it,
I’m crushing a little white downer

I feel Relieved, sick, somewhat dead.
I’ve taken my life, or I guess What’s left.
I’m blessed, Stressed, deprived, upset..
And out of breath.
I see my mother, and the lover I left
The blast of a cover. Maybe I’ll forget
But the number I get
For the feeling I suppress  
All the memories,
I’ve begun to forget
The constant feeling. The ache  in my chest
I don’t know what will happen, or what I’ll see next.
But I close my eyes and hope for the best
Im just...  
just so god ****** depressed
And the only thing I feel, a ******* red hot cigarette.
twist and burn on my wrist
The hurt!
And the poison killing my every breath
I’m ******* tired
I just want to rest
It’s dripping now and the tub is wet
I’ve said a prayer and hope for the best
But I don’t care. I just want to end.

I’m not sure what to wright or if what I wrote is right, but it think the words show. the ink still flows, throughout my extremity to the left. and somehow I doubt I’ll stop till death. I have more to say than I can with breath. I look forward to the end of the day so I can put it to test. I swear I’ll break if I don’t just get it out. I need to dump the well now. I cannot deal with a drought.

Is hunger driving me ill and cardio vascular insufficiency real, I’d saw a blackness through hunger, as I’ve begun to feel, I’ve turned and run to a meal as the pain was too much to deal. I don’t foresee a change in my future, I’m alive, but can’t tell, my heart palpitates, it’s a broken bell. Ever reminding me of fates long had conclusion. The season finale, where the main character dies or moves away . But I don’t have a town far enough away. I have a ticket to hell and I’ve already paid but **** it.. oh well

Are these questions I have, dead blessings? I’m sad. out of this world, here with this girl. Ask me if there’s even a chance. like ants, small, Incase. of course, in a place without doors. But see, I’m a runner from design, legs built to run, they’re mine. In Weather indifference, muscle? There’s some. Put together for distance. cause in these days I’m become indifferent so neatly as the seas waves nearly crash, orderly, blindly, expected, yet kindly undetected. I’m gone, directed by fear. Set by and on . Far away, for if I stay. surely I drear these days, because in the summers end. the days will grow cold and this life will become old. in two months I’ll be gone, I’ll just let you move on

I am on the verge of indifference
To the lack that is my very existence of the world as I’ve lived it. For years it’s been a necessity to believe in it. a time when I walk out, out of the shelter, out of my job, out of time. It’s awful and I’m fine.
But this weight that’s kept me. The people, the commitments made in the world of community. The void I’ve filled. Is my a greatest let down, so I sit hear stead fast on the pier of thorny crowns. To keep the peace that’s haunting my weary presence as a man. It’s kept me from my plan.

I don’t have an actual **** of a clue who I am anymore, I’m in a constant bizarre. Thought expo-rational, friend reducing path to anything but me. All too confusing. Especially bruising, that self proscribed *** kicking I’m inflicting. I’m illicit for a hand to befriend in the upmost fuckedest place a guy can. It’s like I’m running outta sand. Trying to catch the last grain. In the jar that’s encapsulated my life from birth-till now
But I’m present for lack of luck and the clock ticks on in gravity’s kingdom of ****..

I don’t have any actual ******* clue who I am anymore. I’m in a constant bizarre. Intro personal fight, to find a friend.reducing my path to anything but me. While at the same time, I illicit a hand to befriend in the upmost fuckedest place a guy can.
It’s like I’m running outta sand. Trying to catch the last grain. In a jar that’s eternally empty.
In my life from birth until,
whoever knows when.
Liberate my last waking breath. I believe in democracy, but this **** man.. it’s a little too overwhelmingly congressional to please my over average sadistically sanctioned peace of.. ****, Where is my mind? But I’m here and present for lack of luck the clock ticks on in gravity’s kingdom of ****

Is hunger driving me ill and cardio vascular insufficiency real, I’d saw a blackness through hunger, as I’ve begun to feel, I’ve turned and run to a meal as the pain was too much to deal. I don’t foresee a change in my future, I’m alive, but can’t tell, my heart palpitates, it’s a broken bell. Ever reminding me of fates long had conclusion. The season finale, where the main character dies or moves away . But I don’t have a town far enough away. I have a ticket to hell and I’ve already paid screaming die to myself, with an imaginary gun on the shelf

permanence, a relief like a drug where the high never stops and the come up never tops. Eternal unknown. But I don’t fear death, as final judgment would only be left to chance. However this life I occupy. Has my body forever in a sunshine hell hoping for a coffin heaven I don’t even believe in

It's what's oppressed to relieve the stress that burns on, I am depressed but falling out of lonely recess. Beginning to see through eyes, I am not alive. Though without these pills, I hide, for a I promise I won't die. But it's these lies that keep me insecure inside. I guess it's just the narcotic in me. What brings out the sicotic envy of our relationship. Save it *****, face me and just relay that nip to you’re hellish pit.

I Write sad things about bad dreams, I lie awake and walk away to the songs of my inner screams. Waltzing dead And Truely it seems as if these dreams are me in the head of a broken man far away from me in actuality, in his own reality. On another galaxy. I want a break this feeling that I'm not awake.

I and you, and you and me and together we, can be another lovely ending. But forever we are severed. It's not fair, it's just better. But I don't like it past November. It's been cold and I remember, when  we were forever. I don't like it. We could never ever be together. So I am writing you this letter. But that's not me, I don't hate thee in fact I think your kinda lovely. It's okay that I don't like you. I'm just a lot happier when I'm with you. Sorry I can't send this, it's between me and me, so you will never, ever see. This poetry, for me

If I could be your only one, would you give me one son. Nah it's cool. You aren't done. Just tore. we can just sit hear on the hood of you're.. car thinking about a life in gear. Maybe we're a fool.. couple. But me and you can look at each other, and it's funny I kinda drool. Just look at me, looking at you. You've been the star of my show. And it's a little silly though. Kinda shallow honest. so, do i see us two?.. Together. be fair we're not in school. Learning about each others.. life. We're in a bed under the covers... doing what the good guy does with his.. wife. But we're not married.  No I don't have that luck. No, no we just... hangout. That doesn't rhyme. Change that last line. I mean.. ****.

I've hopped I'd die once or twice
I'd coped and try to pay the price
But it wasn't my body that cried
Its my mind whose sinful
Ending siezes to address
The Arguements im blessed with
Flowing though and through
In one ear, the words rule
Out the other. They're cool
Heartless words duel
But I'm not a fool
Just used like a tool
But if so, why be so cruel
Its really only thought
Held, and taught
They've got me trapped
Like the wolf I'm caught
Its escape I sought
But I'm stuck here
With running tears
I just want them to stop
While I push this mop

I'm not going to heaven
That's the ****** gift I've been given,
The muzzle of a rifle is as close I will ever be to heaven. Most of the nights I stay awake waiting on leaving.
Why must I stay every time I try to end this bleeding

I want to bash my head against a flat surface until the paint on the walls and matter of my brains are so indivisibly the same. Where I'm spread out so fine everyone can see me unrenounced, unconfined. Clearly, indecent, True. Liquids, and solids combined. Broken from the encasing of my skull. The Impulses electrically, chemicaly controlled. Pleading for an exit, with a plan so bold. I release, held back by a knot. It's the end of the road. Or the beginning of a new plot? Spent these last few weeks, planning for the end. Eating I was not. No reason for food, a back up plan, a rock. All of my possessions to sell. Drinking more, in order to know for sure. Thirty milliliters at a time. I got closer to the day, without a filter in mind Every night till the end of the week. My life had become meek. I would shake, I was madness. Entirely sadness. It only made sence and the feelings still intense. The answer was obvious. I no longer had to worry about us. You were you and I was me, waiting around tired, unhappily.

I Hates a funny frase, he hates, you hates, we hates. But do any of you even hesitate. Saying a word of unexpressible taste. I mean, you mean, we mean the same thing. But do Any of us really dream to be on the Devils team?

The reflection of the car imprinted on the crystal clear glass of he grocery store slides along the path from door to door. I really wish I could stay. but every time I close my eyes, this image will play. over and over. Rows of lights staged neatly upon the ceiling of my entire life, giving false sight by florescent light. Its just.. the world outside is so bright. We've created shade, to seal us from nature. And we call it architecture. And that's our true failure.

The worst kind of cruelty is by those who  never meant mutality, honesty by nature, hateful by brutality Bent meaning from a creature who's presents was a necessity. An engagement for construction in criticism. A unique perspective turned a destructive pessimism.

A game of cat and mouse. Chasing my self around my house. I've been racing for an exit, an escape, a way out. The door is locked and the walls are lined with grout. I've grown to the ceiling. My room is crushing, I am nieling. Locked in my tomb. I am looking for healing. Shaking with hunger, I'm on strike. I don't wish to continue my plunder, life is a slowly drifting slumber. The Comfort is numbing. My days are limited now to a finite number. I am at ease in the most sadistic of ways. Calming nerves by the bottle. Death serves me so I Cottle. pills will bring me curves. The short, sort with an upper to snort, downer to swollow. It is fair that my life is hollow. I hate to rued the ***** to illude my crude attitude I've stewed. So I will no longer relish food. Still, by choice. Perish

I want to bash my head against a flat surface until the paint on the walls and matter of my brains are so indivisibly the same. Where I'm spread out so fine everyone can see me unconfined, unrenounced. Clearly, indecent and True. Liquids, and solids combined. Broken from the encasing of my skull. Impulses electrically, chemicaly controlled. Pleading for an exit, with a plan so bold. a I take a step to release, held back by a knot. Is it the end of the road. Or the beginning of a new plot?

As much as I try the only one who can make me happy stares into the mirror every morning questioning every reason to stay alive
I wanna leave this all behind, but I can't
So here I am 4: 25 with morning here and no end in sight

screem die please,
and maybe he will stop it
An excuse for crime or treason
****** damage is opening up
Or killing due, rhyme and reason
To those things within we crave
A reckoning of justice
Striken with our judges cane
Leaving only a mark or stain
Dye on the bedding of life
Red wine spilled in pursuit
Of irreversible  rectitude

I don't know habitually.
My lips have a detachment from my mind.  words I want to say don't come out kind.
Usually subtracting the right words.
Filling those empty spaces and lines
Replaced by scar brazing, back assward
Form of what I thought I meant to say.
Unapologetic knowing sorry never binds

I know something about everything. I can tell you about the 26 chromosomes who carry the genetic code that gives me an excuse to know it takes three days to get to the moon. Or that a 16 penny nail has lines across the head, what for grip.
of course?
But I never ******* know what to say.

It really doesn't make sence though I continue to believe in the possibility. I wonder continuously through my self, looking deeply for a sign of life, unforgiven I stay bound by lost desire. ImPartial they stay, understandably away. Distinguished by my force of self understanding. on the outside like a lock, deadbolts with the key-side on the inside, looking out. Clearly fearing more to what lies within then who wishes to reach in my home of dead-end. On the front porch they wait. Sending letters under my doorway. Standing in a puddle of broken glass, pieces of my past reflecting uncontrolled, Directly in their eyes. Expecting nothing in return, maybe a second glance. Friends first. But of course with each step they are close, to the slight twist of a hand. Those mentioned shards of memory cut but a little deeper. Just as fast it seemed possible. Their feet reconcile the fact of my nature. Telling the truth without the slightest of fib. It is me they now so clearly wish to rid.

I tell myself every waking,
sleepless moment you're not here
yet each time you are near
again  my nervousness won't disappear
Creating an unstoppable ache in my chest
my restless blood pump evacuates
Pressure breaks each and every vessel
In anticipation, as if through ever breathtaking mountain air.
Gasping for a drink of the right words to ease the silence that keeps me gazing into the fog of two hazel encompassed pupils that are the door to the soul of the person I wish I could be.
With, In essence it is the ideal sorce of happiness
Truely inspiring my sence of understanding
Morphed mostly unto gratitude
Given the recent release of the knot
Which has held so tightly upon My throat of compassion.
Fear, no compultion alone.
By Extraordinarily exceptional lust
Portrayed by the people who I cared for the most
Has given me unreputible reluctance to trust those of the opposite fitting
But then again maybe it takes
An even more extraordinary creature to release my reluctance of relationship
And free me to the empathy that is unconditional love
Not nearly as Extraordinarily
That is. She is. Right here next to me