it comes in different stages for different people. most just feel it like a freight train hitting them square in the chest; the tears are heavy, like iron, falling freely upon their own ghostly will; and then the emotions set in, but the realization always stays the same with everyone, creeping in at a steady pace no matter how strong you think you are. they start slowly from the inside and make a home within the crevice between your heart and lungs, and you cant breathe anymore, you cant think either. your mind becomes consumed, trying to find a light in all this darkness, struggling to find reason and a hope and anything good you can possibly think of just to make sense of the tragedy that has now become like hands around your neck slowly tightening more and more as each day comes and goes

but eventually the reality of it all passes over your head and you come to terms with it and you become okay, one step at a time. you start to rationalize the situation and become more attuned in figuring out how to conclude your own torrent of questions that has since engulfed you with grief for losing someone to a situation you have no conscious comprehension in knowing just how they made such a conclusion to their own person.

and this is how most people think, how most people confide in their knowledge or, even better, lack thereof. to the ones that do not, nor ever will understand or comprehend the situation as to why someone would ever be capable of concluding their own life, i have an insatiable jealousy for your way of thinking. because, ive been in that situation, many times, and it never gets easier. not only unto myself and my own thoughts and my own incredibly overbearing, chest-crushing sort of ostensible and existential pains, but ive been confronted with others', sometimes literally face to face, multiple times.

each time, you think it would become easier and easier to face death eye to eye; you think that, having had so much experience in it, its gaze would become easier to hold, but it never does. and the chills are all the same, no matter how calm on the outside you may seem. the face can be calm, the breathing can be normal, but the mind - in those moments - are most fragile. and the irrationalities and misconceptions become more and more real, like the doubts you have about your own existence become tangible sound; a voice, whispering just out of reach of your audible range, but still close enough to remind you that you're alive and how much you dont want to be just that, all the same.

its as though your heart and very soul becomes a blank slate; a canvas for all the eternally conflicting discrepancies you have felt for your person, painted across it in an erratic splash of blood and tears, left as a reminder to your fears to keep thinking, "is this what i want?" but the only answer you can find is bawling your eyes until your pupils become red and rash from dryness, for days the strenuous pounding of your heart being the only true friend you have left on this planet, but all you can do is listen and talk to yourself in that familiar emptiness you have nothing else to call but "home."

for people like me, like us, we come to find the answers are always hidden in the places we can never reach; a scorn to our testament that is our life, seething in dissonance for all things "good" and "normal," echoing blank chanting of empty fate and faithless days where we don't know who we are or why we're here no better than anyone else would think if you were to ask them, but the difference being that we hold these devaluations to be true every waking hour. we don't sleep sound and we don't taste the same sweetness normal people do; where in the shadows of others, we feel safest, but the darkness is all we have and all we've ever known. and by normal, i don't mean better. i just mean different. and it's our difference we strive to convey, but the message always goes unheard, like yelling in your sleep: our words become quicksand and we have nothing left to show for it until it's utterly too late and we have no other choice to make.

but for the ones that have to see others making the conclusion before you, the struggle to find peace begins anew, one person at a time. First the chills, the denial that it happened at all. Then the anger swirls like goosebumps on your skin, as real as any other pigment or scar you find, but you can't pick it away, nor does it wash off just like that. It sticks with you, it becomes a part of you, forever. Then the sadness comes, the realization that they're gone, and that's that.

And sometimes, there comes a breakdown. You begin to quiver in your eyes and lip, suffocating on the urge to keep in the inevitable tears you are completely powerless to; but it happens anyways, day after day, without any recourse or decision on your part to stop it all the same as those who took themselves. And now you're not even awake anymore, but you feel like you're stuck dreaming even when you're "awake," reaching at every corner of the planet just to find an anchor to reality. you begin reaching for your phone or going online, hoping to find some sort of alternative to what is happening in the moment; a message, a voice, anything just letting you know “everything is okay, this isn’t real,” all the while thinking that if you search at all then those answers will be had, as simple as that. but you always know it's never true and it's never like that at all, and you realize it has happened, because it already did

You're literally alone and helpless to your own self-defeating mechanical failure – your body and movements become stiff, your energy completely gone and your thoughts drifting into blankness. in one last effort, you think to yourself people might help. But the same people that put you in that position to feel that level of misery are useless and provide no bastion of hope or faith that things will be okay, so you give up not only on them, but everyone. because the ones who should matter most and love you with the greatest kind of love, you should come to expect would be there for anything. and they're not, and you have no clue what to do, so you're left trying to ask the questions, fighting with your own consciousness just to provide a means for comfort from somewhere or something. but it's always the same: you become lost again, and the questions fade.

And you fall asleep in your own mind, mute to everything and everyone. And you're burdened by the weight of this loss, and the loss of innocence years ago, and the loss of your faith. everything becomes past tense, but you're used to it, yet it never gets easier. the listlessness is your voice now, and you're dead on the inside, sitting there alone, remembering where your feelings started to lead you to this dark place once more where the thoughts become wishes and the wishes become motivation to conclude the very same things. and sometimes, you dont want to, but sometimes, the fate you felt were on your heels for as long as you can remember, it jumps forward and holds its hand out, and by that moment, its just inevitable the only thing you have left to do

nobody can change that. you can only choose to change yourself. but sometimes, its just too hard to do anything at all. and the moment passes, and tomorrow is just another day. but this time, its a little bit harder, because your steps forward become quite a bit heavier with the unwarranted burden of grief knowing you have to move on without your friend, because now they're gone, and because of this, a small part of you wishes you were too.

I'm beginning to lose myself. You caught me at the edge of something, I found you mourning your soul out.

All I want is to make it out on the other side, where or whenever that is.  

I'm beginning to lose faith in the rest of everything, and I've been sinking incredibly fast.

You saw me near my deepest point. We were moments away from never knowing anything at all..

I became displaced by the very things I've always needed most: people. I became disillusioned from it, literally. I started to become numb again.

I simply want to find home, I've never had that.

I sent songs that I had hoped could speak for me. I believe music is my last chance to convey anything meaningful, anymore. But, more than ever, even the wonders and visions I used to get when listening; that feeling, it's gone too, and I don't know how much longer it would continue to be anything pleasant, or meaningful to me, or even felt at all.

I'm struggling, caught between the lines of the sky above and the water below as the waves keep grasping at my neck and twisting my body down to the bones like I was designed to slip into that darkness underneath.

Im fighting myself to not become entirely numb and mute. I'm fighting to simply not give up on everything, and everyone, including myself.

I'm fighting to survive, when before it was an idle battle. This is the end of that strife, the last battlefield I'll step on, because I'm tired; my soul is so exhausted and dense with the misery that others wrought from themselves and put into me; I'm sad, ridden with holes as empty as the space between my silhouette and my shadow

I'm staggering here on this empty field looking for any semblance of a visage or sign of who and what is entirely, and only; and utterly on my side; a clear design of something that not only would want to give me hope, but could instill it; because without just that, I know this war is already lost..

I'm looking for something real (with you), but not expecting a single thing. Just hoping that in return someday the feelings can be the same. Yet in between now and then, hope slides away, hides away in a place where no shame is born in here; unafraid to make the right choices and to say all the things I mean to say to you and only you.

It all holds meaning beyond what is said, much further than face value, coming straight from within my own head and deep within my being. Dignity and pride suffice to say the least of what my heart truly sings for you. In rapture, torn between waiting to see where this all goes and finding peace in knowing you're here at all sends me stumbling through the feelings, engulfed in a torrent of know how, deciding; always concluding that the truth is the only key to happiness, even yours. So that's all I ever give you.

I don't possess the luxury to feel alive

This broken soul is daunted by mired ties

The shell that holds these withered bones and stinted cries

Stains rotten with guilt underneath
this tainted flesh; will ultimately be my surmise

i retain the strength of character that of the ocean’s floor

unwavering in nature, i do not break; i do not change, i merely drift and shape and form along with the currents as they bear their weight upon me.

but my weakest shortcoming is that i reside in permanent darkness- unknown, unheard and unseen where it is infinitely cold and quiet, alone

i simply wish, even if merely for one day in my life, to feel like the sun: warm, bright and seen by all; needed, known and felt.

I am the conduit
When feelings hit, they strike deep
Like lightning, unfathomable strength More fleeting than the jaded moments
It comes to fade like shallow breaths
But the scars remain
Reminding me of a forever, lost

Misspelled shadows
A creeping psalm of hope
I am the line crossed
I am the light lost
I am the entity that can't be found
Scorned by solemn apathy
I become the withered and unbound

Ransom unjust fate
Just to feel okay by yourself
You are the silence I seek
Courageous and unfettered by longing
My love seethes in empty corridors
Wandering past each frame of mind
Doorways leading to crippled lines

Threads unjust, no beginning or end
This woven featurette is yours to weep
Watch me dance hollowly on screen
Stepping over each piece of glass
Like the ghostly waltz of yesteryear
Find me there, underneath the crown of hate

I am the conduit
I am the fateless misery you strive to hate
Strike me down, fell my cause
Bring me to my knees
Misery seems to be my favorite mistake
The taste of your lips a listless waste

It quivers the edge of my lips; my lungs scream, but the words exhale silently and unknown through bated breath; they dance within my mind and slowly creep into the crevasses where you fell, too, within my heart in places I left for you to live in; sharing truths you can't hear yet, making stories we have not lived yet: those words permeate my existence, except within my eyes, as they can only see what truly is.

But that's my secret, my dear..

It's that clear vision that lets me know, those words can only be true.

I feel like sleeping
I feel like sleep; tired and sick
bemoaning conversations, groans turned into rants
screaming sycophantic nuances like flies stuck to ****
gone on counting, willing things to be out of sheer desperation

I cant recall when last I fell to the ground alone
dissonance comes and goes like fire slows the defying cold shoulders
but frost burn still hurts immensely
negligence desensitizing everything I touch

if dreams are the last escape from what is real
then what is real anymore?
when I close my eyes its all the same
tears still soak the pillow when I am the only mistake

irrelevancy is all there is anymore
I feel like sleeping
but when I get there, I hope I never awake

I've dreamt of you
and now you're here
even when I'm awake

A solemn heart, it seems, beset with grief for things it can not touch sings silent songs of longing for a warmth to set it free..

A quiet soul, as patient as the moons caressing gaze upon the earth, seeks refuge in the trusting light of hope and aching curiosity from which that heart burns so bright..

And tomorrow seems like but a dream, the answers to urges consumed by festering desire locked away behind a wall of doubt; and the courage to know bound by neglect, wreaking havoc on the mind

I wonder..

i feel like i am a lost sonnet, born amongst a world designed to only listen to its own prose

The sign of a drunken person is not through the sound of vibrant disillusion shouting obscenities through existential inebriation, but in the length of their face when they wake up one day to that stark realization that whatever once was can never be again.

The eyes become darker, mute and cold, the mind obscured by all the things they probably cared about when they had the opportunity but never merely took; and it is in their demeanor where life seethes nowhere in the voice except where it is merely enough to get them through just one more begrudging day of sinister regret gnawing at their heels every waking moment.

Hollow souls show us what we never want to be but somehow so many of us succumb to the same discrepancies and injustices of belittlement from the world around us: sober eyes and sharp tongues convincing us we are nothing more than what we think we are; and what we are to begin with is nothing, taking shape from the beginning of it all, ready to be molded into something grand and good – we must all start from somewhere, but most are subjugated before any of it can even begin; and ultimately, many of us never truly live at all.

Drunken, with the desire to simply live.

I can be who I will be
And I will be who I can
But never would any of those be
Any less than all I am

I gaze at you, belonging
Your eyes become my song of hope
I see within myself all that can be
And I dream bigger dreams than ever
I only hope you transpose this feeling
I wish to compose together someday

"My mind is everywhere right now.. [it] isn't focused on one thing when I have so much going on right now"

I know deeply. I know best, outside of it all. Trust me, it pains me every day.

From the sweet messages to our time together, there is an emptiness I can literally see. In you, between us: I can feel your pain, I can literally feel it, like it's filling my veins. I do truly feel it all.

It's never not on my mind, the struggles you go through.

The pain you feel.. I felt yours, while I still have my own. I embrace you, not knowing how or why, but as if it were the only thing I knew to do; like it was alwasy meant to be, meant for you; to be calm, to give you a place of reprieve.

Even if just for a moment I could give you some sense of peace, or even joy, I could know you will be okay. To see you smile, to hear your laughter, but in spite?.. I know, everything will be okay.

But until that moment, until a time when the dust settles and some sense of normality or goodness can be had without the sense of dread burning down the lines that keep one's bridges safe and secure, I can never be truly satisfied, or content, or even happy, on my own. Not that I would be incapable, but I would not choose to feel that without knowing you do too.

I would not leave you behind, I would not set you aside, I will never ignore you. Because, I've seen your soul; I've touched your aura, I know your kindness, and to watch an angel burn like that instills this rattling pain that resonates through me, entirely. It hurts, more than anything I've known before. It hurts me to know you're struggling; the indecisiveness and foggy mind..

In secret places you still remember, I know it whispers to you softly, all the things you wish you never had to know; and it breaks my heart over and over to know yours could ever be so broken right now, too..

Silent pleas are meaningless in the face of overwhelming odds. The strength to move forward is not always as easy for some than others, yet the others who can afford such staunch accord seem to never comprehend how difficult a task it is to simply rise from bed.

The ones who see most seem to always be most blind to the qualms of those with such resonant concern for the pithy; even the innate ire of one begets the inherent ire of all.

Slowly, thoughts become tangible, changing from empty shadows to a festering aura. It leeches life from all things good and meaningful, and there begins the downfall.

Things which once were the epitome of joy - sometimes subtly, sometimes abruptly - become festering reminders of what once was; they sit rotting at the pit of a dissonant cacophony of sore misdirection, doubt, and unwavering fear, a solemn reminder of yesterday and everything which can not be had anymore.

Anger suffices where patience once stood watch over all interactions. In that brings suffering from doubt for all things said and done, all things come and gone, and all things not yet relevant, real, or existent. The agony builds in each passing moment, staggering and belittling; suffocation enduring, mired belligerent tones of sheer desolation sets the stage for a Grey, toneless perception.

Once stagnant, all fades away. Sounds echo broadly, profusely; words fall short in every regard; feeling stops existing, plight becomes numb: an emptiness no other void can retain or convey becomes standard, and the moment fades away becoming not one, but many. Becoming persistent, real, and the only thing true.

Emptiness suffices where a whole sum of love, experience, and joy once was. All things considered, nothing brings memory of such passions. Nothing breaks the void away. Nothing changes, nothing progresses.

Emptiness consumes everything, even rationality of resolution. All one can think of is escaping this nonsensical devouring void. But it's not possible, because nothing good exists here.

And the cycle repeats

I gaze at you, and my eyes find home

the sun sets with much disdain for the morrow; the wind, stale with defeat, whispers echoing clandestine guilt of things never meant to be.

the heart burrows deep unto solemn internal recourse, bound by flame and disgust, pleading to be set free and seen - to no avail

where does the mind go when the heart can't see? where do all the gentle words flee when there is no feeling left of hope or love?

to beseech is to abstain - they never listen. begotten by the ignorant, time seems lost in itself. where there was doubt, so came the demise of hope.

seek anew, rise above the pain. listen, speak, learn. the pale, sultry face of redemption is close. my savior and kindness. sweet humble voice of reason: save me from this doubt. your eyes speak to me and your mind drives the curiosity within wild with passionate conjecture.

you may be closer than you think

these thoughts fester, blistering; glorified toxicity, virulent, mundane and absolutely consuming in every single way.

I love to hate it and I hate to love it, but I do; and sometimes I wonder what it’s like to be selfish, as they say I can. “It’s okay to be a little bit” but what about more? when in the past I was never, don’t I deserve to cash in on the blunder that was my life up until this point? it was all a lesson waiting to be frustratingly spat back in my face, concluding to the one single plane of time and space I was spent to end up here where I am today.

it was never a dream, it was always me that was never needed or wanted; it was always selfishness that guided it all and I was just the punchline to 27 years of contempt. and I still wonder, I think because I know: I need to go, I need to go

and I wonder, who would need me more than ever after the fact? Who would stay behind and grieve for me, but I curiously berate my consciousness with thoughts, more importantly, of “who would go?”

nobody but me. nobody still, no one. I would go alone.

But here, I am the same. At least on the other side, I don’t have to be the product of pain and the reason of disdain. swallowed whole again.. swallowed whole

I’ll leave this earth like a passionate torrent of dust and emptiness and corroded flesh mired by the taint of a Friday night’s ugliest forgotten texts - “hey, where are you?” said the blinding screen, faceless as ever and echoing screams of torment: why must I remain unseen?

no amount of effort, no amount of partiality begets the conundrum more than simply trying to believe in anything else. reality disguises itself as a promise, but the words never stuck. you lied to me, they all do - it’s fine, I’m used to it. my words never meant anything, too - until now

i will go

have you ever known what its like
to see a tortured heart try to embrace a broken one?
its a beautiful tragedy of sorts
a non uniform symmetry
breaking all the rules abound
by horizon lines that speak of a better tomorrow

but the sun just wont set alone
not of all the things that had been
even though a misery defeats purpose
in believing there can be anything more than pain

but i wouldnt settle for less than saying
everything on my empty mind
because its meant to be remembered
remembered by you

and have you ever felt what its like
to be waiting patiently for something that never could be
at least, to you, you think it isnt even true
but i have seen who you are
and i can not waste another breath faking
that everything you had and didnt have anymore
could be the last step amongst a shallow pool of fate

but i still doubt
i still wonder
i still question
i still see behind your jaded eyes
they speak things to me you dont mean to really say
and all of this i know just feels right where it is
right in knowing not to take it all seriously
and to drift away above the crashing waves
we both feel we're sinking in

even though we're drowning together
its for two complete different reasons
even though we're pretending
we pass notes to each other beneath the table
and i am the only one who has thrown it all out there
but i couldn't be more alive

knowing you and who you want to be
and all the things you wanted to stay right
i can safely say that it was never meant for me, too

but you
you sing to me
and all i wanna do is sing to you

intentions skewed; blistering fate resides in reality
never too late, never too late, never too late
eschewed response, your bitter call
just as usual, just as usual, just as usual

am i of a higher morality or just another facade?
you decide, you decide, you decide
you always ******* decide

it's all about the wrong when the right feels so heartless
to sing a song of injustice is just as hallowed be thy names
weaker, weaker, weaker sins fade
as the line between good and bad; right and wrong
it all subsides to echos of yesterday

the dawn turns redder with lust everyday
and none seem quicker to succeed than those who fall blind
privileges bound to soft mutters of infringement and dignity lost to the fire
ashes, ashes, we all fall down

My heart lies elsewhere, my mind lies to me

I'd trade my fate to find a means to make the answer I seek come true, set free unto the will of sour circumstance and scathing plight; just to know how not to contrive meaning from something so unfathomably valuable.. to me

But I knock on doors laden with deep scratches and battered accents, prevalent with weary, somber aesthetic: withered by time, alone

I will keep searching, moving forward.. the voice I seek still calls to me

I am ill-content, unspoken, unbound

It speaks familiar words, this ghost of pride bereft of all it had surmised; no rhyme or reason unto its own accord

Soft hymns of fate fall short their own innate value, wrought with seething dissonance and disdain; but they're never spoken

Clenched fists, eyes with lonely souls, hearts with sullen cries of hope; they unfold without remorse nor splendid candor

All things left behind, intentions fall short of their meaning; once again, romance finds such morose yet somber, gleaming demise

heart's forlorn atrophy
doubt haunting like ghosts
screaming my name in vain

this isnt misery, saddness or anger
its the last call on the final night, before..
the bottom of the hole

Happiness in drought
Though the rain did not fall
from these eyes when you said
you were his

My heart was already yours

Meaning lost in mediocrity
A spark ignited from curious ardor
Excellence in eloquent discourse

My heart was still yours

Opon sultry lips, we met in the night
Did pale, sweet ignorance unite
two souls who ache for each others embrace
The song of heart's fealty to another
calling back to life what senses were relinquished
in our moment there

My heart is only yours

And so the mind now quivers
at the thought of needing me
So softly spoken from your tongue
"I do not want you to go away"
But the curiosity grows sour with defeat
wondering how it could not be only
my arms you seek
But my patience never rests for you

And my heart will always be yours

tell me my words bear any weight

the willing engage each other in such withering decay of life
like rending flesh and bone, it becomes tangible
grit teeth gnashing together all which was forced to choke down

i swallow pride to face the day,
the taste of iron lines my gums

tell me what im worth before i find a means to settle
tell me how to retreat
tell me

It's raining outside. I woke up gently to it tapping on the window; the sound enraptures me, I kept my eyes shut for a time to simply embrace the moment.

It reminded me of "her," I felt that voice in every droplet that touched the glass; like those loving words and fluency with the hearts involved, I even felt it in the way the cold air caressed my skin.

The rain is my peace, my inevitable calm. It brings me a joy like nothing else, and instills a contentment unrivaled by any other nuance.

I sensed that there, because I've come to find: the rain, those feelings, they've always been her

I hear it in your tone, I feel it in your eyes, I sense it in the cadence of your voice and breath; I see what you think I can't, I know what you think I don't

You don't care

It's not a greater sense of uncaring for all things, but a lack of care for things that should be considered; and instead of finding a common ground, or using any reasonable sensibilities, you dismiss every bit of resistance to the insalubrious discontent you harbor through pure negligence, pride blinding you to the pleas of those around you

You stifle me

The disruptive, belittling nature of your distaste for anything objective has come at a cost; and now, I lie in limbo from your deflective soul: you never enraptured me, you never captured my heart like a true mother should; no ideal preface resides in my observations, but merely fact and law of emotion

You make me feel worthless

Introspect whispered into my mind, and it showed me a truth I never cared to know: you never even tried to capture my essence, my soul, my heart, or my love; you simply let things be as they were, and I was  merely incidental to your existence

You showed love in the most obscure fashion, but you never followed through; you never held any convictions to what you said, or with whatever you responded in times I needed you most

You're incapable of comprehending the implications of your words and actions

A ghost of a man, invisible to the world at large; ultimately haunted by his own reality - you showed me you could never care, because your only clause for dire intent are your intrinsic doubts for anything other than what you experience; your selfishness proceeds you, it condemns you, it mires you, and yet it's everyone else that are the only ones that feel the repercussions

You've never once said sorry to me

I know you'll never read this, but if I had one last chance to just convey the heavy-handed affects of your neglect, it would be: your actions, and inaction, stifle my own sense of care. You've left me in limbo, trying to understand how I should, or could feel about you; you've left me to question my love for one of the only people in my existence that I should be able to reliably known, for certain, love me all the same; you've garnered such abhorrent trends, traits, and habits that consistently, and constantly, rival everyone you come in contact with. The neglect has left my heart tainted, worried, and lonely; you've made me question where I stand, and where I can be.

You can't seem to understand how you're hurting people

That will live with me until you pass, and until the day I die as well. I'll never know what you truly felt, because you hide it under such a thick guise; a facade you've made out of what seems to be necessity, but mostly just arrogant dissonance.

You're not bad to people, but you're explicitly not good either

I don't know how to love you, anymore, because I don't comprehend how you love me. I don't know where I stand, I don't know where to be. I don't know where to go anymore with these feelings. I suffer through nostalgia for things I never had, and digress all intent to a lesser understanding of myself, for it. I suffocate near you, I want to weep yet cringe at doing so for not understanding whether you even deserve my pity, my remorse, my forgiveness, or my love.

I will never understand my own worth, to you

you were never bad to me, not directly, but you never were there for me in the ways I needed you most. you abandoned me, a long time ago, and I will never understand whether that's my fault, or strictly your own. My heart feels a sickness within it, one that makes my chest convulse; like nothing I've felt before. it's wrong, it's nothing, it's everything; it's impure, it's disdain. it's aching to feel anything at all, from you.

you hurt me, and you'll never comprehend, understand, or know why. Because of this, I know we will leave this world wholly apart, and I will never be able to come to terms with that; I will forever live with and inevitably die with that being my only reality

My soul feels sick

injustice sings irreverent hymns of daunting cause, living life without reprieve in second cadence to bereavement

it's where the shadow meets the light where boundaries aren't kept safe, deceiving even the most woefully ignorant

i assault my memories with lazy typewriter days
and these crazy moments i forget to sing
remind me of  your voice
because you say it sweeter anyways

and the meaning changes from red to green
never letting up and never saying stop
so we go and keep on going
until the horizon ends

and all we see is yesterday fade
while the summer creeps up to wake us up tomorrow
together - sometimes i like to think forever

and we'll get there soon enough
we'll get there when we say enough, our hearts explode with potential
where regret is simply like the doubt two lovers make when keeping promises
yeah


beauty stops breaking every bone
when the caller is you
and our lips align when we share the same secrets
over that talk box
make believe becomes reality
when i know its you who dialed first


and with a flick of a string or three
we can turn "I" into "We"
or at least "I am" into "we are"
wearing down thin these paper walls we hide behind

its just that easy if you want it to be
i know I do

Defeat is my surmise; what wrought from even the purest intention wilts away by wanton ignorance

Surfeit, the ire of holds past begin to clench my heart with stoic nostalgia

How wise it were to have embraced such depth of heartbreak in all my effort's past; to see the light we must step through darkness periodically.. I simply wish I hadn't need to have done that with you; you were so bright, which lit my path clearly for the first time ever

"two threads cut from the same cloth"

...

I can't stop falling for you, every new moment we share

a faint sway grasps my body
the wind haunts me with staunch whispers of defeat
the vision i seek, blinded by the blank slate of minute crevasses
aching, wretched, withered, and old
the creaking splinters of a wooden door
black and acrid with a stench which feels so familiar
this scent i've come to know only as home

my body rocks to and fro, so close yet so far
every second never knowing which direction i'll fall
stuck in a personal purgatory, questioning what's behind
lost between what i dream of the life i want
and what in life i seek would merely only ever be dreams
i sink beneath the doubt of it all, it envelopes me like a blanket
but i remain so cold
tired, lost, desolate, worried

nostalgia is all that keeps me bound to this place
my head gently banging on the passage ahead
and i know, if i step through, i will fall
it's all that's left between me and the cliff beyond
i tremble with fear in thinking
when i find the key, would i creak a lonely smile?

i find no peace elsewhere
i hold no secrets here
i find no place that cares
i hold no value in anything without fear

my last true freedom is release

Stop
Falling backwards

I wanna spend my love on you
got me doing all the things I do
investing time and faith in you
you gotta do, what you gotta do

holding down listless commentary
sifting through every memory of us
building up, holding my breath
just to take a moment of you in

Stop
falling backwards
take us to the here and now
momentum breaking down

I wanna spend my love on you
distilled dreams caught me thinking
untold sights and sounds, dancing around in the clouds
questioning this way we livin'

Stop
falling backwards

If I could surmise us a plan
That wouldn't take much to bring us out of, it..
complacent, adjacent
but never close enough, to you

Oh, you..

Stop
Falling backwards
But I know where I wanna spend my time
and all I wanna do, all I want..

I wanna spend my love on you

I'll sleep the days away knowing you're not here

Depression drowns me in guilt and shame..

The lips of fate taste sweeter than the lips of hope

You found peace among the storm
I sought blindly in the distance
Once, our eyes met; no more
Forlorn, begotten, but misplaced
Regret is my eternal lover
We will never be that sultry fate

Stalwart shadows
Empty light eschewing darkness

This fog engulfs me
Doubt residing beneath my breath
No one fears, here
Nobody listens to silent screams

Contempt sets in
Emptiness guides dithered legacy
A shallow grave consumes the plight

Among a world of deception and cowardice, intelligence and honesty go hand in hand as well as a devil's tongue beseeches Godly candor

stoic, I remain

my heart starves

I am tormented.

I never sleep on the ones I love most.

I never worry for the ones that don't matter.

I never stop giving, I never stop listening. Not for a moment does any of this make me weary.

My heart weighs more than the burdens that drag me down, but compassion is not something that has or will ever encumber me.

As long as I am here, I simply am; as long as I can care, I only do.

I thought of you today,
It was grander than anything else

Seldom do we find our own reality gnawing at the right door
Senseless guise and fruitless time arrived from feeding on the wrong domain

Indecision obfuscating want and need
Imploring absolution as an only means to achieve hope
Begetting desolation is the end result in spite of it all

We are found, when
We let go of what was tearing down our walls
We are done, when
The lie becomes the forged duality
We are lost, when
Hopeless dreams derive from tainted purity

Love is not a way to seek reprise
The heart demands a sacrifice of old
Each new dawn beseeches zero compromise

We either live long enough to see our desires through and die alone without surmise

Or we strive to push through all the insalubrious conjecture long enough to see what's true

Sanctity, depravity, hand in hand echoing
Peace does not become the solution until chaos has its way without vision
We see ourselves wrought through trial of flame
Burnt by years of decimating neglect, impoverished longing for what soul would embrace our own

I see you, and I see the sun; blinding impressions waking every eye closed by incessant deception

I seek you, and I feel the earth beneath my soles; through embodied disposition, resonating "you have begun the right direction"

I feel you, and I feel a place to call my own

I want you, and I find peace of mind to  extricate the withering denial of prior disappointment

I need you, we feel the stark contrast of what was and begin anew

I want to spend my time and effort creating stronger paths that lead us to where we both desire to go

And the rest is misery
Fiery contemplation
Delerious disposition
An exposé of all we aren't
Indecision left at the crest of dawn
Seething repitiore in words and meaning, disdained and left to fester away from all that matters of the heart

We are strong, and the resolute sinks in

We are proud, and misery's addiction fades into oblivion

We are meant to be, savory, undeniable, absolute, fateless but reliably designed hand in hand

You are the string cut from the edge of the woven cloth, I am the seam with withered edges; our hearts the hands that begin to write anew the chapter which binds our ties; our shared strength lies in the knots we bound

Suffer never again
Cry never alone
Waste no time nor effort
Be as one to behold

We are living apart, together
Someday soon, we live as one
We forge sanctuary beyond all weather
In due time, our strife be done

You are my revelry
You are my empathy
You are my fateless waltz into the unknown
You are my dawn, my night, my favored tone
You are my heart
You are my warmth
You are the glow with which I have to guide my path
You are my undeniable way home

But do you feel a semblance?...

As sure as I breathe, I desire you; like the rain desires to fall, like the light desires to shine; I fell for you, and my heart stays warm with days brightened by thoughts of us

Too much loss
Too little time
Too far gone
Too many tears

Writhen with doubt, stricken with silent fear

She was the wind, and he the sea

Her soft kisses commanding his attention; his depth and breadth  embracing her every touch

Apart, two powerful yet gentle beings, existing in tandem

Together, a force to be reckoned with

That is the only love I care to be: unconditional, natural, unrelenting, eternal

i struggle throughout the day to find any semblance of hope or kindness that can show moving forward at all is worth the time, effort, pain, and grind to simply exist

i tremble at the most nuanced implications; i become cold, and my skin aches with sheer terror over being alive, striving to comprehend between each sunrise and sunset why the desolation hasnt taken me as of yet

and then the plot comes, and i break

each and every time i begin to feel the tangible sensation of worthlessness and hopelessness i cry; alone, harboring diligent conviction for everything i wish i could do

the actualization of mortality is an ever-present ghost haunting me where i rest, where i sleep, where i walk among the growing crowd of grey, listless faces. it overcomes my efforts, it drowns me in subjugating thoughts, flights of fantasy for the dream to give something meaningful; to drive change in a place, for things and people, that could bring goodness or kindness to them too; to deliver unto my own being a sense of purpose and meaningfulness that surpasses the mass mediocrity which suffocates this world and transcends my own hope to do good unto the world at large into something more powerful than words, or wishes, or dreams

i become overwhelmed with the cost of being alive, the choking sensation of doubt which derives through strife and worry for all things monetary which beguile any path towards meaningful philanthropy

in this world, only the rich can afford to live or be free of worry, and i wasn't designed for this world to begin with; i wasn't meant to be, literally, and yet i wasn't given chance or love to find the means for myself before the miring angst and pain which stifled me had made me succumb to it, as such

every choice begets a driving fear which cripples any means to move forward

i have been behind in everything, from everyone, for so long that it becomes painful to even think to wake another day, and the sombre grasp of reality that what given chance or hope or intent i could ever have for others, let alone this world, come crumbling down in an avalanche of susceptibility, vulnerability, and agonizing defeat - i wish nothing more, in those moments, to end my life

nothing and nobody would miss me so that it would hinder their efforts - there could be zero affect in the long run, something which i find peace in knowing: at least it wouldn't be of any loss to the grand scheme, or the short run

i would leave, as i was meant to never be to begin with

There's nobody else like you; and just like that, when I realized this truth: suddenly, I couldn't find a means to care to look for anyone, or anything else. I knew when I felt it to my core, it resonated within my very bones.