well we walk like critters crawling,
sprawlingly cosmopolitan in our nature.
We embrace all who feel to follow. But don’t
feel following should be forced on a creature.  

Stuff his lies down the neck of the preacher.
Stuff his tie down the neck of the teacher.  
Put the failed papers on his chest and set them on fire
May he rest in a relentless hell, or a cell with nothing but mirrors.

Handle that with care, my head couldn’t take it breaking.
its pretty fragile too , so I repeat 'take care'.  
you see, I used to take it almost everywhere
but now i get worked up and can’t keep my hands from shaking.
I think it means too much,  so much it scares
so much my head starts aching.  

But Its a long weekend, and I could be the one to break it.
Theres no use me keeping it in my pocket,
like a sad act with a picture in a locket
That’s why I’m giving it to you, so take it.
You don’t wanna say "i could have stopped it,
If I’d only looked and not just faked it. "

For the beauty of time is in its hands and its face,
They make me feel like I’m Caught in a race.
It’s the way they stay true no matter their place-
always behind the leader.
the minutes run on while the hours play chase.
never to seem too eager.  

So take it before I break down and beg yo

The two takers took to the start, their heads grew
with  the fumes and they thought themselves smart.
But She was harmless, too  heartless and headless to start with,
soon one was consumed and then thereafter parted.
Your Patience is a waste of your time
he kept reminding her, but it was fine to draw lines
as long as they weren't defining her. “ cut a couple
more, the floors couldn't be shinier. And do us a dance  
its my man’s first time here.”  

“I wanna make a show out of this”, “ a sick game”,
A fowl minded sin for men that know no shame.
the praying sick side of a man that cant be tamed.  
“After all she’s mine, only my mind can be blamed. “

I drew the lines a week ago today: It’s “hideous” and  
riddled some will even try and say of it
But My mind seems to sway very little on this day.
And I wont apologies for how he likes to play.

these straight lines will leave you mindless.
They’ll wind you up on the other side of kindness,
one too many times to wanna find it.

I can feel the blood in my veins.
Like cold steel. It rushes. But no pain.
Only discomfort in my quiet disdain.  
And that trembling little voice sounds
so desperate, he might as well be praying.  

So as the shaking erupts violently,
my chest caves as I scream silently.
The world sinks, it seems finally.  
Just like they told us it would:
it all ends, in ways unwieldy.

she twisted her hip as she fell, so too slipped into fit
she was screaming on the floor at the end of her wits.
This Rage, played with her split ways, each day took her deeper in her descent.
chemical imbalance they labelled the case- no intent for repent.
Because No one knew what the ******* doctor meant.

Has she really lost it? crossed the point of torment to torture, as her joints
were frosted. Honest, she talked like with her words but different voices .
And sometimes neither, she just lay there making noises.

And it’s pointless to try and help, or try and tell her that i know any better
all i can do is give her a skelp. But when the sharp points come out to play  
she turns noiseless, and stares blankly like something behind them is poisonous. sometimes she even smiles like all the while she’s been enjoying this.
A ploy amidst mania? caving her brain. so I hit her over the head and quickly cleaned up the stains.

she lay there like road ****- slain.  
But it was easier to watch her this way- quietly sleeping outside of her pain.

When she came back around, resounding relief inflated my chest.
For the last five minutes I had barely taken a single breath. Too consumed
with the thought that I’d just stolen her last. I laughed till it passed, then
resumed my calm as I asked:

"Do you want to be here?
Its hurting me to ask.
Do you want to be here? “

She spoke and was already belonging to the past.

I think we failed, sailed to no avail.
too far from where our tale began.
Well what was the plan again?  make it to a greener land
and walk hand in hand with the internet stuffed in a mannequin.  
and send them panicking, span across the whole globe challenging
what it truly means to be pointlessly rambling.

I’m no feart’ of dying here doing so.
"Haven’t you noticed no ones looking for us”

A tree on a hill, sits on top of my eye-line.  
Its roots protrude out of the ground round my feet.
The leaves are swept up by the quietest of wind.  
And its trunk is encased in a cold concrete.

But cracking, splitting at the middle it looks weak.
If I could only take a step I would climb this hill.
Or see fully, not through cracks of my sight.
I would open the tree and rearrange its insides.

Oh if I could lift these heavy weights.
Snap the shackles of nature that are sure to trip me.
I’d run like a child, chasing the mild days of summer.
And sit on top of that hill, till my mother would miss me.