I take my imaginary pen
I write down my anger
I close my eyes and count to ten
just to breathe a little longer

It's laughable really
when I see you justifying
Sure, you're all touchy-feely
only goodwill, so hard-trying

When you said that to me
where was your heart at?
Why calling me your better-half-to-be
when all you wanted was a shoulder pat?

Oh you, with your wonderful poetry,
oh, lies so beautifully written down
please just stop, you don't know no poverty
in your emerald sea everything you wanted me to believe is to drown

I never thought you would make me think
the worst of you instead
And I swear I could only stand and stare and shrink
when you didn't care to lose your head

Now you haunt me like the headless horseman
and you will forever
but I do not worry for my sanity, oh boy of thoughts turned cyan
I walked with ghosts before and a headless one is so less clever

And if you ever come back looking for this head of yours
Think twice, try a little bit harder wannabe
It might stick out of the sand at your emerald sea shores
Your love for me was never poetry

morning lights peeks through the door
i walk across the screaming floor
not mindful of the blood that drips
nor obvious to the pain that seeps
into the crimson carpet of despair
i wonder how darkness got there
the door showed no signs of entry
yet last night the bottles weren't empty
i like to think that these kind of days
are something i'm not really meant to face
maybe one day it will all cease
let not that day be when i shall decease
for i wish to live life so unlike now
yet my mind violently demands how
the rooms here rattle as i walk across
synchronized not to life's ability to pause
and how it makes you feel like you're gone
or maybe in two places instead of one.