people can accidentally send you pictures
with the love of your life,  living without you
and not think anything of it- what a miracle

Pain and payment saturate me
Beyond the better disbelief of this
Leave my body on the pavement

Pray this degradations done separating
Whispers heard through closed doors
Leave me in a blatant panic attack, panting

Your head on my chest, i think of us
Keeps me warm so wont you write soon?
all i asked of the guardian angels

She said you will be a much better author than I, I smiled and said
I know you will be fine

I didnt want to see her like that
After she taught me to live
They probably played her favorite music
I probably would have cried
Its too late to hug her goodbye
But i say it almost every day
Ive already said it once
And sang with some angels
I wasn't there at the funeral
But i will always be there

"poetry's dead,"
he wrote.

See "Laws of Physics"

1. You will have a body.
2. You will have a mind.
3. You can do whatever you want with either.
4. You will hurt.
5. You will feel joy.
6. Love is not guaranteed, though it is a possibility.
7. You do not owe anyone anything. Although, (see rule 8), people may decide you do.
8. Some people will be more powerful than you. This can mean influence, size, weapons, or intelligence.
9. There are no laws (excepting the Laws of Physics). Although, (see rule 8), people may decide there are.
10. You will not have time to see it all.
11. You cannot choose to whom, or where, you are born.
12. You will die.
13. Any prospective afterlife will not be revealed until after the time of death.

These are the rules. They are entirely non-negotiable. Should you find them agreeable, you are welcome to experience life and all it has to offer. Life is non-refundable. Life cannot be re-sold. Life is without material value.

To proceed, please sign here-


X__________

I rattle on like the wind if you let me
I make a million plans a minute
To go a million places
And **** a million women.
I spin silken sterling yarn with my silver tongue
But I can't do much else.
Not too surprisingly, plenty of people don't care for me.
And for a while I was among them-
The product of an overanalytical mind and a policy of no-******* cynical honesty (or maybe honest cynicism), I suppose.

However, on my good days I know it to be true, that I
Can't change them, can't change me.
Why try?

I was built
To fly by the seat of my pants
And try to use my best judgement-
Though I'm probably going to lose my mind
And all my money
And friends
In the process.

We'll see.

The road stretches infinitely onward,
To the bitter end-

God knows I'll get there someday.

Excuse me sir, but could you leave her alone. She didn't ask for you here and she's terrified you might look at her with your eyes so self-serving.
Excuse me sir, but please never speak like that again. Your giving men a bad name, a man like you are the reason boys like me never had a chance. It's men like you that taught women how to be terrified. It's men like you that taught them how they should see themselves. It's men like you that make me sick. It's a man like you I wish I could I could see the blood run out of your face, as my boot comes down to close your mouth for the last time. It's men like you who need a knife to separate your body from your soul. Slick with red and never satisfied, that knife I wish I held in my hand. I know what I do with my anger will never change what you've done to the beauty in women. But maybe selfishly, i might feel less embarrassed to be apart of your same gender, If only I could hold the hammer that stopped you in your tracks. Blood trickling down your face while tears stream off mine. My eyes so bloodshot I can't see your pain anymore. Because I don't care how you feel, a man like you doesn't deserve a listening ear or an eye that cares, a man like you deserves to drown in hot oil, so you can feel the blisters rise and pop just like the burn you've left in that girl's spirit. Except your pain cannot compare, so I intend to make you withstand as much as I can give you before I stick a barrel in your mouth and clear your throat with lead. I'll hollow you'r chest so you might finally know what it's like to feel empty because of someone else.

They fit so unnaturally you could swear they were pieces from different puzzles. The one part you have control over, the one piece you can manipulate, might fit alongside someone else's, but you know the color will never match up.
The lines mismatched, ends desperately trying to find each other by any means. Trying to squeeze a connection so tight you might be able to relate.
It's the kind of cosmic joke that makes you cry so seriously that you know you could go the next week without saying a word.
because it's so not funny you would rather sleep for days on end than try to convince yourself it's worth getting up in the morning.

-RÆ

I keep making plans to disappear
Sometimes they become a part of me
Something that i might not understand
Why do i want to become that man-?
Forced with decisions second hand
Of course what it takes to go to France
Release a virus , or impeach the hands.
What it would take to be that be that and
Not be the same person that i always am
Wake up one day to me gone  and sigh
****

No matter how hard I pushed, I couldn't be the cure of her disease.
Without fail, my pressing reason, trying to grind out the addiction plaguing her life, would bounce right back to remind me that it isn't my sobriety to claim.
She needed her own help, not mine.

Though I know now it was never my job, and I knew all along it was never my fault, it does sting my withered heart to know it was never my responsibility.
That maybe I never did and never could make a difference.

But the saddest page of this story is where I finally come to terms with the jealousy flowing through my veins. Pure unparalleled jealousy and hatred for a chemical that without fail has controlled countless lives.
Jealousy that stems from the realization that I couldn't and won't ever be her drug of choice. I'm not as good as that simple compound.
Everything my life had to offer pales in comparison to an intangible high.
My humor, my laughter, and my smile were worthless compared to the instant satisfaction that her drug gave her. My life becomes secondary to an inanimate chemical.
My heart became a side order to an entree of addiction.

-RÆ