Every single day from the a.m. to the p.m.
One should try his best and carpe diem
Just please listen to this requiem
I'll make it obvious so you can see 'em

Negative thoughts are diseases, it's rife
Hang on, what are you doing with that knife
Learn to make the most out of your life
Before you're ****** by the reaper's scythe

It's still your choice, I'm just voicing out my opinion
Take the Hobson's choice, and we'll rejoice.

english teachers detest me
because i never capitalize my i’s
but they never once bothered
to come and ask me why

uppercase is a privilege
at least, it is in my mind.
it’s reserved for war heroes
or a painter who is blind

i have done nothing remarkable
i have hardly even tried
everything good i’ve done
is eventually cast aside

why do i deserve an uppercase?
or for that matter, why do you?
we’ve done plenty of bad
when there’s plenty of good to do

english teachers detest me
because i never capitalize my i’s
but i will have reason to someday
and i hope that is not a lie

I want to write a song that flowers in the darkness
A tune that smiles under the moon
Swelling sounds that swoon and confound
Singing hymnals of love that astound
Hands helping the healing start
May not be able to restore broken hearts
But maybe I could write something
That eases suffering
Perhaps something to make them smile
Or something that makes them laugh
With words I tare myself in half
To give those sentences back
And do something good

I know
And you don't

You don't like me
And neither do I

I am yours
But you're not mine

I walk alone
head down,
no one around.
Just wishing
I had someone
to be around.
Look up.
It's me.

My best friend
clutched my fingers like an
oyster on its pink, luscious flesh,
and kissed me
once on each cheek,
in the manner of a ship forcing the sea apart when against the wind,
then shoved me excitedly to her father’s coffin,
and begun crooning to him how I’ve been a good girl,
and how my college grades were very exceptional,
with an air of a flighty tea-party mutual introduction
before giggling with the
lost, hollow smile of a drunkard.
In the kitchen,
her youngest brother
absently-mindedly whipped up a feast of
grainy meatballs,
their father’s favourite dish, he carefully explains,
with murky crow-claws etched beneath his peach-pink eyes
and a tipsy smile that reminded me of barbed wires,
before placing a bowl on the coffin
as if forcing his father to eat,
while the preacher majestically proclaimed outside,
with the red, jagged glare of the funeral lights,
about how it is God’s will to bring him,
to a better place.

When you broke down
I saw it all
There wasn't a reason for it
At least none that we remember
There never is
Everything happens in the moment
The life never loved to its fullest
When you broke down
You saw it all
The creation of us
And the destruction of me
When you see the stars and the moon collide
Do you cry as much as you can
Or do you simply hold that image in your eyes
Letting it fuel your new found affection
Letting it reflect the lamp light in an almost dark room
Scaring the hell outta me
When I see them looking at me