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Postal Leo Feb 2019
Hurt.
Alone.
Drunk, on you.
On who?
Who are you?
Lost.
Confused.
High, on her.
On them?
None left.


*When you bottle up passion, anger, and otherwise, any man could tell you that your either a lover, a cheater, or completely alone. So, which are you?
Postal Leo Feb 2019
Feel the need to make their father proud?
Walk around their school with their head bowed, getting kinda tired of hate, turning off your alarm just to make yourself late.
Feel completely joyless, but not hopeless. You met your hope everyday, and she's the one that does this.
Makes you wanna die, cry, and you suffocate, every-time she lies.
You hear the Blue-jay repeat you, and the Mockingbird sing.
That's life.
Everything is so empty, but you swear your alive.
What does it even meant to be....
Who cares.
You stopped reading already.
Postal Leo Feb 2019
I
was
CALLED
a ******.

How nice of you.

Clearly your a cordial personality.
Postal Leo Feb 2019
Non-originality.
Common for your generation.
Our.
Us.
Together.
Forever?
Not ever.
Postal Leo Feb 2019
I'm so,
Scared,
When I stare,
Off into space.

That if i stop,
Staring,
And uncross my eyes,
I'll see...

Everything.
No longer able to hide behind the soft lashes,
And beautiful smiles,
That you gave.

And realize...
This diner *****.
Postal Leo Feb 2019
Untitled Document. What a strange set of words, that speaks to me oh so completely, like the druid doth a bird. Now, I get quite lost in words such as these, for I know not what i am either. But the fact that i can help you, Untitled Document, means quite a bit to me. Means i can, form and shape you, and make you as I please. Tell you the stories of your brothers and sisters, who already have great success in this world. But what will you be? That is a question, i truly sit here and ponder, for i think i know half your destiny as it is! You were created to be special, for success! And I know, Good Mr. Document, you’ll make it in this world, all you need is a few more t’s, maybe the word flower, leave you alone for a minute or two, up to an hour. And keep crafting my most special mix i have yet to make. Writing is easy, all you need to know is how to bake.

Orphan. This word makes the least sense of all to me, to never “make sense”, to not quite “belong”. Because even when i was getting beaten by my dad, or hit by my stepmom, i knew still there was love, just a lot of hurt feelings. My words can be like venom, and now I do see clearly, what’s it like. Because life moves on. Dad gave up, found a new wife, new Mom. But i guess i don’t belong in that picture perfect family. Way too many issues, even talking to me seems to be a calamity. So i got kicked to the curb, tossed aside like a mutt. But i still realize the love, he didn't wanna give up. But my Aunt, wonderful lady, told me things, that forever freeze my heart. Made me realize i was just a lost kid, orphan. Right from the start. Mom is afraid to see me, scared i'll start a fight. And, like he does with girls, this christmas he took her side.

Suicide. Standing between life and death isn’t fun. Joke’s over, we laughed, but now can this be done? I’m tired of hating myself, while doing nothing wrong. My god, if this keeps up, one blam and I'll be gone. It’s confusing, walking the valley of death. Putting on a brave face, so no one thinks your scared. I’ve done it all before. Don’t think your alone, or that i love you, you disgusting *****! Sorry… Sometimes, i just get angry, and scared, and lonely, and Jesus ******* Christ! This is what you wanted, wasn’t it? For me to be exposed, to feel lost, and hopeless. Well, I got what you deserve, you miserable wretch! Now leave me be, as I pull out the gun, **** it, two shots in my head will put me back in place. ******* God, I’m like a rabbit running the turtles race. History says I’ll lose, but I believe if I believe, for it’s too late, to turn back, and run, cry, that perhaps I have an infinitesimal, that means almost ******* impossible chance… To live. To laugh. To love. To be happy. To be wanted. To want. To breath. To breath. To breath.
Belonging is important, and everyone feels the need to be under the grand illusion of belonging.
Postal Leo Feb 2019
Migraine building up,
Could have anything in life, ‘cept a little love.
Because as much as I try to sit through the pain,
All i can hear outside is rain!

This is my eulogy song, print it in black.
This is my happy ever never, as in never coming back!
I tried so hard to love you,
Now i would prefer, to undiscover you.
What happened to the me, that was happy and hyper?
Got taken away, no one paid… The Piper.

In a perfect world, I would be a different man,
Instead of the scared rabbit, the dog with the plan.
But i don’t see us ever working out,
Now can you tell me what that’s about?
Your lies and deceptions now fall on deaf ears,
I’m in tears!

Trying to find a way to calm my rage.
So I start a new empty canvas. Just another blank page.
But as much as i would love to, i just can't cope,
Keep churning out songs, I’m losing all hope.

I used to believe, i had a purpose.
Now i'm stuck on my own, waiting for my faith to resurface.
Staring at this no-longer blank page, maybe it can guide me.
Maybe it can come to life, in actuality!
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