I stared into the mirror last night
And I cried
But this time I cried not because
I disliked what I saw
But instead because of what you
Always saw in me
Because no matter how I looked
You found beauty in me
Even when I
Was simply a crumpled mess
You'd hold my hand with pride
And tell me I was beautiful
So thats why I cried
Because your words
Made me feel loved
Even if everything's changed
Those words
Meant everything
You mean everything.

If I wrote suicide note...
It wouldn't be a love letter
If I wrote a suicide note
Would you be in it
Would it sadden your conviction
Would you be my hopeful light that made me leave with a smile
If you read the note
Would tear ducts flow
Would you caring make a difference
Woul I be pushed aside or would it be more delibrate
If I wrote a suicide note
Do you think I would end it
Would life crush me to the point
Thyat I would morlly want to end it
When you read it and the truth spilled out
Could it make or brake your attention
My hateful restitution
My loving resolution
What would be the reason
Today or tomorrow
If you wrote a suicide note
Would i be in it or make the difference





Have you ever thought every consequential second me just exsisting or emotions thick as resin
Would you cry knowing I did. The guilt would it **** you that I lived and you weren't around to care or do anything about it. If you were there and tried as hard as you could and love me with warmth and not responsibility as I would you. I left it in the note as my best and worst

Alcohol only understands alcoholics
**** for stoners
power for politics
dark knights for the jokers
I casually forget
that I casually forget
What reason to resent
connect to the tempt
let it rip like a blade through the skin
unphased by the sin
An abysmal of interest
still bewildered by abashed movements and contemptment
plaugues by immortal sins
of mortal men
we are only equal by the hierarchy we rule by
actions and reactions do or die
unpleasent motives inflicted pain by mere touch
I trust my eyes are clouded by the logic in my mind
Shift to an undisposable appetite
set a riot after night
Excuse my Vocalization
take it how i meant it understand Veberalization
I am a ***** man
look at my ***** hands
Dull minds
Dull minds
Take your influence
make your influence
reality checks save lives
end lives with escapism
Uncaged birds with clipped wings
Freedom just isn't free
I am at your mercy
No matter how diabolical it can be

When we see it, it may be appealing, or it may be appalling – but surely it is natural, an Image straight from our minds projected on the screen of reality.

-The Manifestation Of "Infatuation"

When We Chase after it, it may be refreshing, or it may be exhausting –but surely it is natural, a force bound by the Law Of Emily that declares , "The Heart wants what the heart wants."

-The Aspiration of "Admiration"

When we Feel it, it may be exhilarating, or it may be infuriating – but surely –
It isn't natural,
A feeling that, in order to make us feel like we're flying – we would have to fall before hand.

-The Paradox of "Paradise"

When we lose it, it is only the latter of all three stages before it.
Appalled at the sight, of the conclusion to the exhausting flight within Paradise –A journey seemingly destined to last forever.

-The "End"

I'm afraid of affection
Exerted through many faults
My skin torn from limbs
just to regenerate.
My shell grows thicker
Beautiful butterfly of death
Cure me with poison
From the lethal remedy
To move forward I put faith in my feet
My legs crumble like cookies
If only I had to leap
To stare and wait till no one is looking
I've never seen the dark side of love
It is blind
I've never experienced the lighter side if hate
With my eyes opened wide
My kindness is a curse
The kind that gets submerged
Right before the purge
clip the lovely wings
And we all fall down
Dread not the bitter moth with the lurking eyes
It's not the beauty
It's the death of a butterfly

Winter drops of icy dew,

sprinkle down on moments that to me are new,

The hold on my hand tightens, you're afraid of slipping too,

on Winter drops of icy dew,

lips quite pink, eyes seemingly blue,

I'll take the warmth you place in my heart and melt away the things upsetting you.

We'll take a stroll, to a meadow of white.

Eyes seemingly blue take in a magical sight,

drops of ice twinkle in the light, not from the sun, but from your smile.

It's these moments that give me winter
blushes,

Just one thought of your presence, and my blood rushes.

I'll grab your hand, to the center we shall go

To build a family made entirely of snow,

If you'd like we'd make a family of our own,

Where smiles are made of skin rather than tiny river stones.

I wish that I was braver – a little less shy. But genies are a thing of make believe, so this wish remains inside

Of my mind

It is false like the sheep herder who calls,
Out about a ferocious beast who feeds on his sheep,
Even if there was no ferocious beast at all.

But at least he cried wolf, at least he cried out.

While I sit here in silence with the worst case of cotton mouth.

I've been struck by a drought, Words dry up faster than my ability to speak.

My tongue has been barren for days, no sound, genies are a thing of make believe.

I fear what might happen, meaning I embrace deciding not to take action. But when it comes to hoping, all of my thinking is wishful.

So if a genie were to be reading this, may he grant my three wishes in the form of spoken word delivered from my lips to her ears:


You're really Cute.