Fall in love with a writer,
let them write all your flaws
because when they're done
you'll see they possess beauty.

Fall in love with a writer
and tell them your regrets
they'll write them into fantasies
you'll never forget.

Fall in love with a writer
and tell them your fears
they'll write them until
you've conquered them.

Fall in love with a writer
and become the person
you've always wanted to be

There’s no peace for the wicked,
we drink consequence from our own cup.

Like a baby drawn to her mother’s ******;
I pacify myself.
Listening for the voice:
“it’ll be ok, everything’s’ ok”.
Only silence.

There’s no consolation in this bottle,
only more tears;
these eyes have run dry.

Need to find out a way out of this pit,
Up, up, up
out of a hellish reality of despair,
trying to find the words that’ll take me there.

Maybe I’ll write some more,
but I can only write what I know,
self-esteem,
so low.

I don’t understand the world.
I don’t wanna go back.
The world’s an illusion,
like professional wrestling,
it’s fake, it's phony, it’s a sham.
Yet we all sit here like gleeful wrestling fans,
submitting ourselves to an illusion we know isn’t real.

As the weak prey upon the weak, they feast upon themselves.
It’s time for me to turn the other cheek, get up and move on.

Oh Lord,
I come before you a broken man.
Beaten and betrayed,
scorned and condemned.

I want to live.
I want life.
I can’t take this destruction of death;
this cesspool.

Oh Lord,
fill me with Your wisdom,
teach me with Your guidance.
Save me from this infinity of inferno.

Though they may mock,
taunt
and speak out of turn,
they cannot seek You,
for You are not known to them.

They silence themselves,
becoming their own critics.
They beat on the wounded,
and depart the despaired.

They shall not know,
that which was never meant to be hidden.
A world quite near to here,
yet very far.
A world to destroy all the myths
of souled-out archetypes.

Long gone and forgotten will our world nearly be.
The other world remaining a precious jewel to those who know.
No type of hierarchy, a school of one.
Soon will this world be known to those who seek it.

Remember always the language of the universe,
the wisdom of those who do not speak,
the whispers of ancestral past.

Among the crowd,
a stranger lurks.
He looks like them,
acts like them,
although,
he doesn’t feel like them.

The eyes in the street are all the same –
“I want someone to know my pain”.
Swimming among the sea of faces,
a ghost moves amongst them.

Taunted by memories of the past,
the rewiring of brain chemistry into a mess.
Voices of torture,
of pain, of sorrow,
the picking of decaying flesh.
What’s left?

Another face in the crowd,
Just another guy with a story,
No more or less special than
the blade of grass that’s underneath him.
Just another name in the wind.

All I ever wanted,
was to see that you care.
A sign, an expression
a momentary lapse in time that says:
"I'm with you" "I have your back".
I don't want to hear words anymore,
I've heard all the words before.
I want to know it.

I'm sorry about the days of old,
when I showed no care towards you,
and now I dare to call your love into question?
Not so.
I only look for that which I lack,
as a thirsty man searches for something to drink,
I look to quench the thirst of my soul.
My soul is like an empty well that desires to be full again.

I'm overtaken with your presence,
and I tremble in fear,
my bones rattle at the thought of entering a world without you.
Love motivates, fear suffocates.
You're not all I need, you're all I have.