im crushed by the shame of my own failure
and im crushed by the failure of my own shame
and it creates an empty, disconnected feeling

I'm not good at the right things
and other people seem to have halos and wings

This was made for a certain purpose
can't say why
but I think you know why

W
H
Y

and thats a fact
that we artist revel in

I was bored so I wrote this for you
I don't know what I hope to accomplish
Maybe my adhd wanted to be satisfied
Maybe it's because I'm a perfectionist
But not with poetry
I was bored so I wrote this for you
And I don't know why
It's beyond my understanding
A mindless function being fulfilled
Or something more
Something deep down inside that even I don't know about
Something in the inner workings of the body
I was bored so I wrote this for you
And I hold that statement true
no seriously I had no idea what I would accomplish

I guess I have forgotten
the journeys I've had in the past
the procrastination that made me feel good
but the reality that had me harassed

I stare at a screen
that they say is "oh-so unhealthy"
just doing what I do
and tell me

How many times our art has been celebrated
and how many times  has it not
and some people forget
I made the mistake of falling in with that lot

So blame me, yes me, me!
I'll tell you I'm so sorry
but you can't blame me for saying
online school is quite boring

I know it's one of them
one of them has the knife
3 have been lost 5 remain
a cold blooded killer is on the loose
with no outside help
we're all as good as dead

At least that's what I tell myself
I was woken in the night
she shook me awake
"we found something" she says
I see him with the knife
it's covered in blood

"I didn't do it I swear"
he begs saying he had nothing to do with it
then we take the knife
and give him what he gave us
we go back to sleep
to search for help in the morning

I wake up to see blood on my hands
I feel something cold under my pillow
I reach and see the knife
I clean it and put it where it used to be
was he even the murderer?

Someone's missing I think
he's missing
know there are only three
it's her or him
but who?

I hear a snap
he's dead
it was her!
it's just you and me
she says
an evil smile appears on her face
the last thing I see

A dazzling display
An exploding array

A dashing light
Flashing in night

Colors lashing
Beautiful smashing

Elegant shining
Audible whining

Your fireworks array
Makes the night bright as day

An arrow flying through the sky
does it hit it's mark, as it passes by

just like a shooting star
such grace and beauty

who was the archer
did he shoot for pleasure, or duty

But never will we know
for the body is so slow

compared to the speed
of a fast-moving arrow

The lonely bard sits
in the shade of a tree
strumming his lute
for you and me

he has been rhyming for quite some time
born with a gift
he plays, and plays
his fingers so swift

Alas, no one will pass
but he keeps on playing
he will stay here forever
even when his body starts decaying

He has become a legend
but what is left to see
a finely carven lute
resting next to a tree

I am a blank canvas, you are amazing. I'm inspired by you, but feel like a non creative painting. Open my eyes, please, let me see. Who am I really meant to be, what fate has been decided. I know I'm art, but can I be guided. Nothing spoken from the heart is crooked, but how long has the author spent on me, they didn't love me as much as you. I don't know how I don't know why but just the sight of makes me leap into the sky. Your the only thing that makes me happy, and I'm no longer a blank canvas. Like a flower blooming, or a caterpillar coming out of it's cocoon, I am now something of beauty, and I owe it all to you.

I'm feeling dizzy, can't stand strait. My head is spinning, my ears are ringing I can't remember anything.

Are you really happy, or not? That is the question.

I have chapped lips. I try to smile to hide my sadness. Then they crack, blood oozes. While my fingers are stained red, I feel something. It reminds me of you.

I used to feel compassion. Not now. I used to think of you. I've changed since then. You think I'm corrupted. I think you've been lied to. I'm not going. Never. Not again. It hurts too much. I can't, I'm not coming back.

You'll have to go to sleep eventually. When you do change the dream, be the dream. Reap the dream.

I hate you
                                                                                                               I know
                                                                                                I hate you more
I loathe you entirely
                                                                              I want to tear you apart
Your the devil incarnate
                                                                  You shredded my heart to pieces
Because I had to
                                                                 Your the worst person I know.
                                       In fact your the worst being in all of existence
I want to END you
                                                  I can say the same, but infinately worse
I'm deleting you
                                                      Do that then, give me the satisfaction

Silent
Hurting
Always there
Deadly
Omnipresent
Withering
Sadness

Darkness is my home
safe, and sound
I wait quietly, underground
rain, snow, wind, hail, those do not matter
for in the darkness, feelings break
emotions crack and shatter
for in this life of seclusion
some consider sickly
I see a home
a place to return to quickly
while some might lay basking in light
which I do not oppose
I find more peace and quiet
in a gray, colorless rose
while darkness shadows me, some say
my life starts to drift and decay
for I am fine with this I say
Darkness is my home

just like a star being lost to a supernova
beautiful, destructive
one last memory...

Is this me
what have I become
corrupted by darkness
it seems so long since the scarring begun
I thought I would heal
from the torment and hate
mentally and physically
cut with double edged blade

should I just stop now
pain has me hooked
I have no tears left to cry
I cover it up, overlooked
but deep down inside
I try so hard to hide
but scars can last forever
inside, and outside

Am I a plain being
that blends in with all
just another shade of grey
an empty call
for I feel unappreciated
unnoticed trying hard
for I am undifferentiated
feeling lost
just another broken shard
apart of something bigger
but sadly just as plain
like a dark rushing river
feeling all the same
empty, broken, boring
these things apply
lost, lifeless, mourning
the words just fly by
I try hard and what do I get
a colorless empty palette
a raindrop same as all others
uncared for tossed aside
just like all the others
a bleak being of wrong existence
a mistake made
erased indifferent
a failure a group of many
why there's too much there's plenty
then there are those good
who cast us shame
so perfect we are entertained
wishing we could just start over
life has no second chances
move over
it's a new generations turn
your done
look at your life you had no fun
your goals were never met
you see
there's too many of you and me
in truth were the same
but I'm just feeling plain