Are there people
Without voices in their heads?
Monsters tormenting and
Demons taunting them?
Because I’ve lived my entire life
Fighting for my sanity
My grip on reality
Desperately trying to hear my own voice
In all of the chaos
This is just how I am
It’s how I live
And it astounds me
That anyone could be different

I'm stealing glances,
trying to hide behind
useless conversation

I'm taking my chances,
trying to conceal all my
misappropriations

Am I hurting or am I healing?
I'm not yet sure of what I'm feeling
I just sense your magic run through me
Like a thousand volts of ecstasy

I'm counting the seconds,
trying to delay the
pull-down of the curtains

I look to the heavens,
trying to beseech
the God that never listened

Am I hurting or am I healing?
I'm not yet sure of what I'm feeling
I just sense your abandon stagger me
Like a thousand volts of misery

Oh, you.
when I think of you,
it's as if sparks start flying above my head
when I look at you,
drums of arrhythmia keep beating in my chest

Am I hurting or am I healing?
I'm not yet sure of what I'm feeling..
Am I hurting or am I healing?
I'm not yet sure of what I'm feeling..

Time is money
And all my money is spent
On the letters I typed in
and pressed delete instead of send

Wasted my recesses
on machine made black coffee,
That was as devoid of sweetness
as the empty chair opposite me

All those hours
of thinking may have been in vain
For now I crave just a minute
to gaze upon your face again

Last night I saw it there
Lingering beneath
The thick emotional fog
A creature, a monster
A suppressed storm
Writhing, screaming
Bruised and scarred
Full of old memories
And I was so relieved
To pull the fog back over
And bury it in the night

Heart:
I have a book of songs,
a collection of antique emotions,
carefully crafted for someone
Like how seedlings germinate
inside the womb of the good green Earth
feeling the warmth of a watchful Sun

Yet I pick up another,
a chronicle sans embellishments,
A tale every bit pure, every bit unspun
A familiar fear grips me -
clouds me, maims me, ****** me
as I open it with glum expectations

But I feel myself break,
to know of my absence from this tome,
with each page I anxiously turn
Did I not deserve
a chapter, a line, atleast a word?
Maybe I will find a footnote - none!

Mind:
Oh my dear heart,
Do not expect in return something better
because you've surrendered to her memories
Equivalence is just, but justice is not a quality

How do you plan to **** the one
whom you've already granted immortality?