i rose in structure, guided and conroled
carefully tendered and formatted to be
organized and on track
but as soon
as i left my home
i lost all that, though it barely ever took hold.
I just drank an entire *** of coffee and am now heading to bed
my floor is made of clothes and my shelves are made of books
and the glow in the dark stars on my ceiling are for the little girl
who wasn't allowed to tarnish her perfectly painted room
and i think being raised in such control has lead to an
excessive chaotic behaviour.

I'm tripping ******* the seam between the sidewalks
listless and breathless I'm falling back and forth,
holding out for a helping hand,
waiting for my knight.

I've been in bed for over 24 hours
looking at everyone I grew up with
and wondering if I'm sad.

Now I lay me down to sleep
Now the dreams will conquer me
Smoke that swirls is my death
My sweet sweet sin
There's nothing left
Now I lay my head to rest
And hope I may
For death in dreams
I know we're young
But we're not free
Not to die as we please.
So I'll smoke these cigarettes
Offer them my soul
And in exchange
They'll swallow me whole
This is the death I choose.
Amen.

I dream of ******.
My mistress, my mother.
******, ****** my dear...

I dream of Chaos.
My friend and my brother.
Chaos let them shake in fear....

I dream of Death
My reflection, my other.
Staring at me in the mirror...

I dream of Uncertainty
Or I think I do...
My father, oh father....
What shall we do..............

I think.. I think I dreamt about you.
Or maybe its a memory...
just a remnant of your face
your silhouette before me
its dark and cool but temperate
and shadows dance upon your face
while my head plays that familiar
song repeatedly.

I need somewhere to roam
where my dark thoughts can be
without judgement.

No one seems to get my humour,
apparently my suicidal thoughts
aren't funny

My cynicism has seeped into my veins
and now my heart beats to its awful cadence
and I've found comfort in its crude caress

the coaxing leering laughter and the coke crusted smiles hold me together through my daily trials until the mountains fade and plains stretch far and my childhood chains resurface along with old scars.

I'm surrounded by people in similar states
and yet I'm the only one of my tastes...
I'm the only company I've ever known.

i see love and light and cringe
at its generic quality, all the same
all beautiful and endearing and encouraging
and i can't help but feel the cynic in me laughing
at the mawkish displays and efforts
and at my own generic skepticism

just one charming quality of my
self deprecating form of narcissism

When thoughts stream through my head-
They acclimate into a presence-
Dark and smothering-
Sinister Nothing.

These many scars whisper I should have died young.

he was a desperate and lonely plea in the dark, she a nervous laugh and waning spark
together they scared one another off but contrast bade them compliments
and one without the other leaves a bad taste in my mouth

Give me a dream in ****** white I'll give you a love that's pure and tight.
Hold my hand and treat me nice and I'll try not to turn to my typical ice.

A broken heart and seering pain bring words carved of gold and dripping in honey. To attain true art one must either die for it or lose a soul, as the cost of worthless beauty is everything and nothing at all. I hope you know I died for you.

I've met people like you.
Loud, boisterous, dangerous, charismatic, charming, perfect.
You, force of nature, unable to be forgotten.
steam rolling over the people like me.

All my best friends have forgotten me. But I remember them.
My friends were the loud and the powerful, protecting me, meek and sheltered. So years after I've left, their impression is seared into my brain while I'm just an insignificant whisper deep in the back of their memories.  
My friends are the **** and mysterious. The ones everyone wants to be. I'm only kept by their side because of my docile nature, every group needs a quiet one. Unfortunately the quiet ones are easy to forget...

Useless duplicitous skill rotting from within as you shun this world.
Your worth lies in creation, rendition, replication. Everything imitating another.
And without you, really, nothing changes. All that's lost is carbon copy, and I think we're all weary of repetition.

Your mood is mellow meek mild
until its not
You don't explode ignite enrage,
you simmer
You seep and poison and spread

our spindly legs carry us far
and brittle bones make for light cargo,
with sweeping steps and toppling grace
who cares if the skin sinks deep in our face.
you're all pigs, rolling in mud
and here we tower, watch from above
sure bones are sickly and skin translucent
what a small price to pay to rise above your dirt.

a righteous contradiction
I'll hold your interest long
enough to captivate your soul.

Dragon flies and lanterns
cast shadows through my mind
causing jesters on the wall
to cautiously unwind,
with a heavy heart of liquor
I beg them to go on,
do try to heal my soul
its fallen, maybe gone.

Windy blues and tortured greys, my nights are leaking into days, and over mountains cold and dreary, my bones are shaking, dry and weary.
I pray you hold your flesh close by, lest it catch the wind and fly.

She's a boss *** *****
with diamonds in her eyes
and mercury flowing over her skin.
When she walks the world
tumbles, crumbles, easily humbled.
She's got a devil's tongue
with a lick of fire in her veins
and she's all I've ever
dreamt of being.

Tummy full of worms and mind full of death
A wriggling roiling pain and painfully bad breath
I am not your babe nor a pristine lass
But I’m certainly the skinniest in this ****** up class

Oh honey, you'll be fine
divine and holding out hope
an angel with no god, no home.
Oh babe your ignorance
looks so good on you
stay steeped in wholesome lies
safe from dreadful truth.
Oh sweetheart, your dumb
******* head is so perfect,
so rottenly pure, its mawkish
scent brings me to my knees.

You're gone again and I know the feeling, a familiar lingering pain.
I knew you'd leave, it's not your fault, but it hurts all the same.
They say you're doing good, serving our country's valiant goals...
but the system is corrupt and its hard to pretend we're not selling souls...

I don't know who I am.
And I know I never have.
For some reason its hitting me harder than before,
or at least from what I remember.
I remember it being bad when my mom was a wreck
and I, a strictly A student, received my first F.
I remember it being bad when my first step dad left,
and the weird assurances he made that he wouldn't abandon me.
I never thought he would, until he tried to reassure me.
But the earliest memory I have of not knowing myself, of it being bad,
was when I was little, in court, because my dad wanted to adopt me,
and a man I'd never met wouldn't let him.
I was young, and I realized I didn't know who I was.
I was 12 and I didn't know who I was.
I was 16 and I didn't know who I was.
Now I'm 20 and I don't know who I am.
My mom was 36, and didn't know who she was.
I'm writing this as documentation.
A thought taken down, so as not to be forgotten.
All sorts of people talk about forgetting who they are,
and finding themselves again.
I want my future self to know, that as of yet,
I've never known who I was.

You're undeniable, deplorable and ultimately a hoax
that speaks to me on that superficial level that's sunk below

Disconnected syllables of broken names trying to be whole
fill my dreams and echo through my home
while the eyes of a billion childlike selves cast their judgement...
Who are you.
Dislocated limbs pile in corners of my room
and I've forgotten where each fits,
and to which long past figure they belong, but still their eyes question...
Who are you.
Disappearing thoughts leave mist in their wake
only remembered by their now empty space
and a distant weakening whisper...
Who are you.