I'm not dead. I'm just not living yet, and that's scary, 'init? The peeps, beeps, bops, and sch-loops of life gnaw at my head, warning me that silence is unattainable, and noise is everywhere.

When I was young, I tried to be the loudest thing in my environment, tried to scream louder then the muffled yelling downstairs, tried to cry till my face became a distorted mess, and tears come easier than a smile.

When I was young, I wanted to be anyone else, to run away, to hide from it all, I wasn't content with my sub-par, if even that, lot in life...

Now, I cry my heart out, and leave my lungs to rest, my whole body has become that distorted mess, my smile is so easy, it discards the tears, till I'm left alone with my fears. The yelling is clearer, for it was always me, fighting with...

Myself.

Physical: My beard is still both scary to look at, and incredibly scruffy. I still have a messed up lip, from the time I was bloodied. My head is still *****, and in total disrepair. My skin is still soft, and sorta fair. I still dress in rags, make it seem like I'm homeless. So yes, I still look, like, totally bogus.

Mental: I'm still emotionally immature, and pretend to be fine. Fine is the word I use when running outta time. I still chase girls, only for them to break my heart. I still feel like something on my inside, is falling apart. I still laugh out loud, at nothing at all. I still feel the urge to pop pills, miss the rush of Adderall.

Emotional: I still cry when angry, haven't found a way around it. I still walk under the sun, and run when it's moonlight. I still hate simple things. Still believe I just lost my wings.

Summary- Something scares me. And by something, I mean everything. I just fear being afraid the most.

I guess, something I've learned, is that poetry is a-lot like life. It's not about following, nor flipping the rules. It's about the effort you attempt to put into each situation. No matter what, do what you love, and love what you do. God, Buddha, Allah, whoever you believe in?

They have a grander plan than you can't possibly understand.

How possible is it to change everything you know, become better as a person, stop looking at others, and give U, the single most remarkable person I have ever met, in my entirety of existence, a clue that I like U?

End of the world,
End of our butterfly kisses.
End of me calling you mine,
And people calling you Mrs.,.

All because one of us was a psychopath,
And you can’t begin to understand, how happy i was to put a cap in your ***.

****






Sorry, that's just the easy way to grab someones attention nowadays. Are you getting enough sleep? How about water?