there's nothing romantic about
stinging, shaking legs
and a still silence
surrounding lovers that creates
screams in their heads --
where did i go wrong
i'm such an idiot
there's nothing beautiful
about blood and self-loathing,
insecurities and guilt.
there's no turning around.
there's only moving forward.
and maybe they'll both be different,
but they'll probably stay the same.
and there's nothing --
nothing --
pretty about that.

Decrepid
I watch you spy their futures
Scooping dreams with sillky fingers
Far too frail to dig,
Fear not,
The sweat from my brow will bring us life.
Sustaining and sweet
Care not,
Though you can not see them.
The huming birds sing

Yes, I know that
The sun is beating down,
Pounding your back with heat
As you're working.
You're working hard
Selling memories not to be forgotten.
You think you're grown now.
You are a man
It seems to you...
And it seems to you
Only fitting
That you do what you please.
Well, you think you're free now
Like you've never been free before.
You're just another boy on the bullivard.
But can you take it,
Ooh, the harshness of this lifestyle?
As you wait for them to come along
Will you come undone?
Your time,
Your time is running,
Running out.
What are you feeling now?
I split no hairs
About the little things.
I say only what is relevant.
I see
You need a warning.
You ride like the wind
Through the pages of your life.
They change like the faces in the night.
I know your lonely.
How could you not be?

So we close our eyes
and tell ourselves
that help will come
tomorrow.
But tomorrow's hope
quickly turns to despair
and then despair fades into nighttime
and then tomorrow is over
and help never came.
So we close our eyes
and tell ourselves
that help will come
tomorrow.

A flower bending
in the wind doesn't actually
yield, though it seems so

It reminded me of the way you talk

Repetitive.

A perfection of revolutions.

Telling me of things already known.

I tasted the ignorance on your lips.

Fill me up with your everything.

Your breath. The wind.

Stale air.

I don’t feel cool.

You’re pushing air in circles.

Chopping up all the times I asked for forgiveness.

Forgive me.

Until this moment.

Please give me a breeze of all the moments you have watched me act ungodly.

I have always wanted to let you go

Like a sloth when he grabs his own arm,

only to find out it is not a branch.

I want to fall away from you.

A free fall of every emotion I can't justify.

Love is not something we possess.

I hate myself for not loving you.

I can still taste the ***** on my mouth,
your hands around my waist, tracing my ribs.
I can still hear those sweet, sweet lies you told
me at three in morning.
"I love you"
"I love you"
"I love you"
I can still remember the way you pretended
that my skin was flawless, that my eyes were
the prettiest ones you'd ever seen.
I can remember the way you fell asleep next to me,
every breath heating the side of my neck.
I can remember you hugging me goodbye,
promising to call later.
Out of all the things I can remember,
why must you be the one to forget?
I gave you my love, I gave you my heart.
You had my feelings gripped inside of your
beautiful hands.
Instead of creating a magnificent story,
you ended the book after reading the back cover.
You threw me aside, not even bothering to tell me why.  
I can still feel the brokenness inside of me.
I can feel.
I can feel.
I can feel.