Don't get coffee.
Don't kiss her.
Don't fall in love.
Don't think about her every moment.
Don't let those blue eyes pierce your soul like they have time and time again.
Don't let those lips poison your mind with the stinging venom of her serpent heartstrings.
Don't do it again expecting something to change with a happily ever after.
Don't convince yourself that you're done falling.
Don't think for a second it's over.
Don't forget it's just starting again.
Fall in love.
The last time.
For the confused and in love. But hey, what's the difference?
For those stuck in a moment of unsure bliss
My eyes bleed with exhaustion.
My thoughts are fuzzy like my brain is stuffed with styrofoam.
My body sinks into the ugly carpet floor of my basement.
My mouth tastes sour with the flavor of an unslept soul.
I lie here writing instead of sleeping because it feels like the only thing I can do well, consciously.
My back aches with an elders pain at late seventeen.
I crave the warm embrace of my bed but am too stuck like sap to move.
I'm rambling here in my brain instead of resting my frigid existence.
My thoughts are slow and choppy now with the hesitation of drifty words.
My rusted, chipping ears hear nothing but silence and a distant coo-coo clock.
The chirps of a bird only found in my dark, dusty insanity.
The world weighs upon children such as these in a universe such as this.
I'm just, tired. Tired...
Take it as you will. This **** is crazy.
Why is it that when I start to feel alive,
It feels like the wrong thing to do?
Why is it that I am convinced that I don't deserve the greatness I'm gifted?
Why is it that the warmth I feel is always quickly faded and frozen?
Why is it that when it feels like the final victory, the war is just beginning?
Why is it that I am secretly the monster I swore to despise?
When will my soul be freed?
I write in the midnight corner of now and what is to come. Sifting through the ashes of the forgotten. I seek what I fail to find in a light I can scarcely see. The rain washes the sins from my skin so that the ones inside can bleed back out. My words catch the air with gentle, intense passion. I caress the broken cheek hoping to fix it and finding only myself more broken. I know not of what is to come but I can prepare myself with the ammunition of my past. The brittle autumn wind calms me with the vibrant colors of a dying world. My mind wanders into the absent recesses of my twisted imagination. The words I write copy the voices in my torn heartstrings. I lust for the cold rain fingers that embezzle my mind. My soul is painted with the bright blackness of a blackhole's laughter. There is a butterfly caged in my stomach and I'm too afraid to let it free.
- - -
When will I know that I've found rapture?
For the broken and lost like me
Let's go skate,
Wear all black,
And day dream,
In the dead of night.
For the young ones
We're all rebels WITH a cause.
We all have something that we would put above all else.
For all the rebels out there