For so long I was blinded,
but now I see clearly.
You blamed me,
you can never be at fault.
Maybe twice you gave in
but the rest was barren.

In the beginning it was obvious,
I was struck with a new kind of substance.
but mixed in with the distance, lies and resistance.
It felt like for so long, I was inexistent.

I tried so hard,
but I was never your lifeguard.
I was just a distraction,
and I'm sure, soon enough you'll be on to the next one.

Is it wrong to feel mistreated?
To never be accepted?
I believe there's something wrong,
and I'm trying to stay strong.
But I'm not sure if I can deal with this anymore or any less.

Some say
That a picture is worth a thousand words
But what if each word
Was worth a thousand pictures?
That every single piece you write
Contains an amber memory
An emotion stained shard of glass
In the word "love"
An aching heart in the word restart
A laugh sown into the hollow of your smile
A desperate sense of awe and kindled fear
In the knowledge of what we write
Will out live us
That in a sense we artists
Who rip their chests open
Warranting our sorrows and joys onto the world
We bare our arms
We show our scars
Some of us to feel like we aren't alone
Others to be a light in someones darkest corner
A warm pulsating orb
To be here
To show
You aren't alone
That we're here
Bracing your heart against the hurricane


Some say that a picture is worth a thousand words
But what if each word
Is worth a thousand pictures?

Breathe in and out until the burning subsides.
The pain is so bad all I can do is help muffle your cries.
I don't know who did this to you or their reasons why,
But you know I'll find him and show him hell before he dies.

Night after night and I can't stop the endless tears coming like a flood.
Even though I found the man and came home bathed in his blood.
Nothing will take you from me again and of that I'm sure,
The memories will fade in time and soon I'll find you a cure.

But it's always the innocent who get ripped apart and mistreated.
The strong have little to lose & violence to them is happily greeted.
There has to be a way for me to keep this one safe from harms way.
I don't know how but I'll keep her in my arms until that very day.

There’s something in the way he holds me.  It’s an inescapable void.
Me the weary traveler, he the siren.  I cannot turn away from his song.


There’s something in the way he falls short.  It’s a story, far too often read.
An ongoing battle, waged in my soul.  Labored, my psyche falls casualty.


There’s something in him I cannot tarnish.  It can’t be scrubbed from existence.  
A type of purity, only seen through my eyes.  Alluring, it defies my ethics.  



There’s something about him.  His grasp, his clutch…my running…it grows tiring.
Whispered prayers are all I have left…I see myself falling: I see my death.


I see the cycle
commence again.