He played that guitar
like cupid on a broken heart
or a harmony upon a harp.

The sad instrument wept
his tears unto the dry crowd
and they sighed in saturation.

And once he was drained
of everything he kept contained
they lit their lighters, begging for more.

Alas, he was alive no longer,
and had nothing but great nothings
left to give them.

So they took the silence,
and gave it back to him.

I don't know why
Maybe so you'd like me
Only one side of me
I fear you getting to know
That side
The one that talks
Of death
Way too often
That is rude
Because that's affection
This is hell
Because you believe me
To be a static character
I feel so two faced
You get confused at
My jokes
Like
every salad is a Caesar salad if you stab it enough
That's funny
you want to know me
From so many miles
Away
Well then
Your questions aren't enough
My humor is sometimes
Dark and *****
My explanation are
Too long winded
I don't believe in your god
My imagination is
Dark and goes too far
So do my ideas
I'm scared
And I like to be alone
When my emotions
Close in
That's only part of me
The one you don't see
Dark and depraved
Are the stories
I write
Following the sometimes
Worst case situations
Maybe you've see
And I'm sorry to say this
But
You're kind of gullible
Like Brutus
The fool
I feel so two faced
What do I do?

It's more like having
Too many ideas
Half formed
They sound so brilliant
Until page two
Having ideas for page
Two hundred and eight
Or the best ending
For the story
That has two
Lines down
I can't write anything
If has a title
Write ten minutes
On this
Write that scene
That's in chapter three
I'm writing chapter one
Thirty on going ideas
Most seem to have it
I need to finish one
**please

Protestantism class, mid term
63%, I passed the exam
Fair enough, as I don't really care
What happened on the 6th day
Our teacher is nice though
Only three students in his class

The bells goes off
We gather our things
And wait in the hallway
Still in deep conversation
With our teacher
He puts the key in the lock

Walks to the back to close
The windows tight
I look in his eyes as he makes his way
To the door and with confusion on his face
He watches the door close before him
The keys are on my side

Maybe one day

           I'll be able to put it into words

Maybe one day

           *I'll have no need to