Sakura lines my feet
The stairs to hell never looked more charismatic
Sweet blood drips onto sacred life
Blossomed to accept my last breath
The skies dread to weep
Soil breathes in my absence
What comes from death is more beautiful than any sculptor could create with hands bare as the mind occupied
Crafted by the hands of gods but left hollow like dolls on stone shelves
Cherry picked favourites like prized possessions
Do not fear
I will leave the way I arrived
Without heart, thought or mind
Sakura for my casket
Leave the rest to burn

The cracks start to glisten through
Daddies crying, mummy’s bright blue
A whole life of forces trying to stay subdued
It’s easier to let loose than to keep his head held on, *******
Stuck in the Memphis blues without you, but when I’m around you I feel nothing but scared and bruised
The doors locked shut there’s nothing to come through
Tell me what I was supposed to do in a world of black and blue
Daddy, when’s mumma coming home
I saw you truck stopping, left your cigarettes on the stove
Smoke fills the room but tonight it’s not just your roar
Oil drips from the sink, broken home, I’m lost
I thought you were the devils son, you showed me from the flames over my cove
My hiding home is no more, your boy will never age old

Lies in July always sound sweeter in December
Truths in January are warmer in June
Times change, people change
The hard truths never do
I could write a million lies yet I only fool myself
I could write a million truths in the skies and moon, but yet I still never get through
Some people learn, others stay plugged in
Bridges burn, friendships earned and still I never get through
Sometimes the hardest thing to do
Is tell the lies from the truth
When the little white eyes float to diamond skies
You just wish you could’ve got to
And yet still I never get through
Don’t hold back my friend, don’t hold back my friend
The chance may fly away and never come back again
Then they’ll be nothing to prove
I could write just one truth
And yet I still never get through
When loves burnt too
I will still choose you

The biggest stranger occupies this husk of a human
They want me to know somebody, but I don’t even know myself
They want me to love somebody, but I can’t even love myself
It’s masochistic but it feels terrific, the pain helps get to know
The blade to my lifeless skin has a better, more meaningful connection than the one with me and my mind
It tells me I’m happy, it tells me I’m ill, it sends shock through my body and yet I do not feel
Scars appear with no pain, my attraction to things I shouldn’t, the people that I know the same but yet if I saw myself, I couldn’t put the face to the name
I want to get to know me, but knowing where to start is the problem.
I want to speak, but my feelings rob them, I want to express my ideas but my peers mock them. Hopefully one day I’ll get to know the one inside my soul, in the place I call home

The ink runs dry
But I have more to say
The pages run thinner
But I have more to write
The words are lost in the mind of the husk that occupies it
I wish I could scream, but I am too weak
Ravenous for satisfaction but the meat of creativity runs dry upon the bone
Suckling for more, but I only taste blood
Can I go on when the world holds me back?
Or am I shackled to the reality of life?
Breaking free to feel the grass on my feet, my breath in the cold air, my air through the lonely breeze
These are only dreams, reality takes me to an even darker space
Reality has a depressing grip and I feel it’s warm embrace

A jack of all trades
A master of none
I want to be good at something
I wish I had talent
Maybe music is my outlet, but it always falls flat
Maybe it’s my writing, but no one cares
Maybe it’s my comedy, but I am the joke they laugh it
Maybe it’s my sadness from which people might gain
Because people that always seem the happiest are the ones who deal with the most pain
Finding my way forward in a maze, on barefoot wading through the shards of glass
When things seem up, I’m always put back down, it’s always tearing me apart
I’m on my hands and knees praying for an outlet
Cut and bruised to the bone
Ripped apart from hatred and failure, my imagination torn to pieces
Creativity is my freedom, but society wants to hold me back
I need to paint a picture full of colour, but I am only given black

As the demon inside me takes my last breath
I start to reminisce on every dream, every promise, every wish
I feel I wasted my life on living the same as the person to my left and to right
Why did I have to feel sheltered and boxed in by the expectations of someone else
I should have taken a chance, I should have cared for my mental health
But instead I wasted my days boxed in by four walls
As a kid I had many dreams, as an adult I achieved none at all
So when my lifeless body is put six feet deep
Don’t make my mistake, follow your dream