Turn up the silence and block out the sun,
Alone in my room, a bottle and a gun.
It goes click twice, I'll see another day,
Tears start to fall, can't carry on this way.

I don't always know what to say
Or even what to do.
When long paragraphs of genuine praise
Go unanswered, this is my excuse.

You give me praise like I don't deserve
And don't comprehend how to respond to.
In the end, I read and reread
And think of what to tell you.

I count you as a mentor, a friend
I respect your opinion.
I think of you as a light, a guide,
Sense is your dominion.

I wanted to thank you for noticing misplaced words
In a blog for rhyme-schemes and thoughts.
I want to thank you for seeing the best in me
And continuing to see when I cannot.

i want you twisted around my finger
around my hand around me
i want your mind i want your soul
i want your blood i want your body

i want to break you let me hurt you
let me rip your mind apart
let me sew your skin back together
give me your soul, give me your heart

we can bleed together you can rip out my tongue
we can sleep together in the morning sun
we can hate each other so intensely we die
we can love each other through the night

im ******* free falling im suffocating
im obsessed with you im intrigued im undone
i want inside your brain your life
i cant get the words off my tongue

i want to cradle you protect you
i want to adore you freely like you deserve
i want to shower you in affection
i want to wrap you up in soft words

But none of this is acceptable to say;
I can control myself, I can refrain.
Would you love me like this, a plastic, thin mask?
Would you love me when I hold the insanity back?

I am here then. I am genuinely untrue.
i am here then in love with but not loving you.
I am here then, my thoughts are pure as driven snow.
i am here then, I am sane, i am here for you.

Build this structure block by block
He was intriguing, infinitely appealing,
Building his way to the quiet peace of the top.

Build this city block by block
He was outspokenly subdued, a mystery to grip to
A tower, a steady force, a rock.

Build this utopia block by block
He was terrific, immaculately deific,
Captivating in the only way humans are not.

Build this Elysium block by block
Oh, I think you know him not, I think you may be all talk,
These palace gates will ever remain locked.

Build this friendship block by block
Oh, I think I know him not, oh I know I can't run nor walk,
But I am certain I want to be caught.

That one decision could inspire hope,
I never thought, I never knew; I hadn't the slightest clue,
This is what saved me; how I cope.

I'll build this life block by block
Thank you, I was on the edge, I was through,
Block by simple block until time finally stops.

"I'm sorry"'s and "forgive me"'s
Never rang less true.
I'd rather forget those I can't latch to.

There wasn't a dynamic, it's not intrigue
I wrapped myself up in your harsh words
Because I wanted to bleed.

If I could analyze this feeling
I'd say there's no feeling here at all,
That you were a passing fling.

I'm sorry that I'm not sorry for this
I don't have friends, you're not an exception
Just another number on a long, long list.

I see a galaxy of useless things
That I've set aside time to worship.
Bags of organs, blood, and meat.

If the boredom wasn't quite so intense.
If you could have pinned me down.
If you could have held my attention.

If I cared more for you, if I cared for you at all.
If I never got tired of your words.
If I never grew weary of answering your calls.

Would I respond better to commands?
-I have my theories on myself-
Would I thrive with my decisions in your hands?

If I cared for anything.
If I could feel more than amusement.
If I was less unsettling.

If I could curb the violence.
If I could put in the effort.
If my comfort wasn't found in silence.

If.
If.
If.

If I could remember artistry.
If I could fill these words with meanings.
Alas; sociopathy.


Insanity

You'd think there'd be words there.
That was a stanza's worth of space.
You'd think there'd be hidden meaning.
But there wasn't. Whoops.

I thought poetry would keep me.
I thought rhymes would hold me.
I thought feeling would guide my hand.
But it didn't. Whoops.

I thought I'd write forever.
I thought my creativity would last.
You thought there'd be worth here.
You thought this was time well spent.

But.

Whoops.
There's nothing here.