As the cold wind blows the rain across the street,
I still wonder what it would've been like if you were here.
I wonder what it would've been like if I hadn't lived in that dirt floor house,
Or if my parents had actually been around.

Now you’re sealed in wood and mortar,
With nothing but a picture of you in my mind.
Followed by the image of you hanging in the air,
And your father crying over the defibrillator.

I wonder what it would have been like if I had had a home,
If my first memory wasn't a father covered in blood of his own.
What I would be like if I could forever remove the memory,
Of me laughing in a tub covered in crimson of my body.

But in the end I have to be grateful.
From dirt floors and misery, to the doors of a university.
And a solemn promise to my future children,
That they won’t have to see the things I've seen.

I can’t sleep,
Something tearing at my brain,
I’m burning up my lungs.
I’m covering myself in paint.

This thing just never shuts off,
I’m alone again in my room,
Covered in a plague of loss,
I hope its ending soon.

Can’t escape those judging eyes,
I think I’m paranoid.
This game isn’t any fun,
My soul isn’t a toy.

They say to always love,
Words don’t convey the use,
It’s torn up and abused.
Just left to make pictures of.

On the first day of May, I saw the setting sun.
My strained body floating down a narrow path.
As the strings from my body flew to the unknown,
My shadow grew larger and I swear I heard it laugh.

The birds in the distance didn’t mean much to me,
As the whips of clouds drifted by.
The cross erased itself from the horizon,
And I was left to choose what was right.

I had nearly been sealed and suffocated,
When the oil scorched and cleansed out these lungs.
I breathed again for the first time in six years,
Shuddering at the things I had done.

I hear the ring across the room,
And I know who it is.
I can’t bring myself to accept the call,
But my fingers are more careless.

I can hear the ***** on your breath.
Your voice is sweet and delicate.
But my voice escapes your ears,
You don’t hear my tones laden with fear.

You tell me what’s on your flesh,
My dear you can try your best.
But I’ll tell you now I never wanted this.

There’s more I crave than just this call,
Where the smile that made me fall?
All I ever see is anguish in your teeth,
I’m much more than warmth,
For a drunken nights sleep.

Dear love, I’m so sorry.
I’ll have been used up and broken,
By the time you’re calling.

Dear Heartache, I love you.
But I think it’s time to leave,
It’s our moment to be parting.

Dear Confidence, I apologize.
I’ve only seen you for brief moments,
When will this friendship be started?

Dear Hate, I just can’t.
I’ve let you live here for so long,
And I’ve been left discarded.

Dear Sorrow, please no more.
My eyes can’t keep up.
This well is drying.

I can’t do this anymore,
I’m checking in.
They say my minds broken,
And my heart too thin.

You’ve been poisoned kind sir,
You can no longer love.
It’d be better to disregard,
Whoever your thinking of.

But there’s a knot in my chest,
And it’s eating me alive.
Well your heart’s too unstable,
You shouldn’t even try.

Wait till these kick in,
You won’t feel a thing.
Four doses of this medicine,
And you’ll hear your voice ring.

Charcoal grey expressions,
And a stark white slate.
Paper people pondering,
How to template fate.

Their lives are all drawn out,
In a linear direction.
Nothing ever changes,
When stencils draw perfection.

Calculate the angles,
And paste a paper house.
Everything falls so easy,
Living in a Paper Town.

The thought of you makes my stomach curdle,
How you used, broke, and left me.
And made me feel it was my fault.

The Thought of you changes my world,
Til I’m beaten and defeated,
Not worth a grain of salt.

The branches lead out from here.
The branches lead out from everywhere,
Entangling in a beauty that few see.
Flowing from branch to branch, root to root.
Entwining and holding and slipping and grasping.
Trying to make a bind that’s everlasting.

The branches get torn, cut, burned.
Leaving that slow branch to yearn.
As much as others try to steal,
As much as they try to keep away.
There’s something the vindictive always miss,
The gentle brush of a kiss,
As roots feel out blindly in the dark.

Nothing can stop the need to feel
The need to seek out under earth,
To drink, to eat, to breathe, to hold.
To grip the dirt between your toes.
A connection that isn’t seen,
So it’s never broken.
The emotion flowing from another’s eyes
That isn’t spoken.

But always felt.

With a rusty pick in hand,
I’m searching for the black.
To keep your rage fueled and fed,
But when I struck Gold,
I didn’t want you back.
But my lust for that metal,
Went further than I ever could.
It grasped that dry, eaten handle,
And sent me to a death trap.

With my lungs screaming more,
Contracting strings in my back,
A swinging axe in the dark,
I’m nothing but a snack.
But I want to breathe again,
Before these walls chew me in.
This is where you end,
This is where I begin.

A piece of you for a piece of me?
Ink spills my soul on a paper sheet.
And it’s all yours.
Won’t you send a part of you?
Art colored in hues of truth,
Depicted in Black and White.
A piece I can keep.