Poetry is art
      Poetry is visual

Poets can see the words

The way a play write
Can see the actors on stage
       with every line he writes

The way a musician
Can see the notes dance on air
       with every key she plays

The way a sculptor
Can see the final sculpture
       with every cut of their knife

The way a painter
Can see the waves of the ocean
        with every stroke of blue
                  on a blank canvas

Poetry is visual
      Poetry is art
            Poets are artists
       They write **from the heart

The words keep t
                               w
                              i
                               ­  s
                                  t
                           ­     i
                                   n
                                 g
                                      in my mind
               Truths and lies
       Becoming h
                             a
                            r
                             d
                          e
                              r
  ­                               and harder to find
              Blurred together
      between h
                         o
                       l
                         l
                     o
                         w
                               and grey lines
         The differences becoming
               o
                 b
               s
                  t
              a
                 c
               l
                  e
               s
                   more difficult to define
    And life has lost all its
                                           l
                                             o
                                            v
                 ­                              e
                                                  and **rhyme

The truth is bleeding out of my pores
And yet the feelings are all bottled up inside
I fall out of my skin, disappearing out the back door
Losing my mind, struggling to find the best place to hide
Running laps around the sounds of my own screams
Trying to decide which dreams I should or should not believe
Thinking that my life is no more than it seems
And these struggles I have are sent by the devil to deceive
It works; the lies, the hate, the pain that I'm put through
It makes me break down and I get scared of the truth
But the suicidal thoughts in my mind all lead back to you
And the tears that stream down my cheeks burn like a fire
That's bigger than all the flames of rage from my youth
It hurts; it builds in my soul before it pours out my eyes
Becoming rivers that flood my life with disguises and lies
I don't know how to make it all fade away, to disappear
Because it's more than I can handle and I hate to admit it
But it fuels my spirit and awakens all my childhood fears
Chilling me to my core, causing me to give up, simply quit
How do I do that? How do I commit myself to suicide?
Is that what I really want? Is that truly what I need?
Do I believe that my life is only my choice to decide?
And if I hide in the corners of my mind, will I still bleed?
These are the things I ask myself every morning when I wake up
As I stare at all the sugar settled at the bottom of my coffee cup
Then the caffeine hits me and I finally start to think clearly
What was I thinking? There is no way in hell I'll ever give up

Theres more in this life than I think I can handle,
legos pile around me,
hell is becoming more understandable.
Every little mistake I've made
burns my soul with unending flames,
the memories toy with my mind
like Lego games.  
Building blocks around my heart
and shredding the bits of humanity I have left apart.
Stacking up the walls higher
and stronger to keep the emotions away,
if it all falls down
the insanity and anger will come out to play.
So these Lego games that block out all the hurt
need to stand tall,
I can't let anything break down or my life will
crumble
and
*f
  a
    l
      l.

The demons crawl
Under my skin.
They show themselves.
Occasionally.
When my inhibitions
Are lowered
& my hackles are up.
Testing, daring,
Taunting & scaring.

Why would I fear you?
I put you there.
Look at me.
See me.
you should be scared!

The band tightens
Around my chest
And I struggle to breathe.
Tears build up
Behind my eyes
But I cannot cry.
The room closes
In upon me
But I cannot move.
He asks me
What's wrong
But I can't find the words.
Locked in a cage
Of my own design
And I've lost the key.
Let me drink myself
Into oblivion
That I may forget
Where I am
Who I am
How I am

Time passes
Nothing lasts
Nobody cares
Nobody there
Heart cries
Love hurts
Minds shatter
People go
So alone
Nothing matters
Without you
Lost love
All gone
Just say
Two words

I am a pin cushion that with
Each head a droplet of blood
Sits, a movement of skin and
Flesh and a hundred heartbeats
Fall like rain drops to the floor.

I feel each one penetrating my
Being, a shower of my essence
And as one smudges the below,
Yet another hundred heartbeats
Once again fill preciously up.

My life ebbing slowly upon the
Unforgiving floor, I lose apart of
Myself with each breath, I would
Shed tears, but all that would fall
Would be my life blood.

I am a toy of the maker of elaborate
Death, I see others in there clear
Rooms each suffers a different fate,
If this wasn't Life I would think it
Hell, but I cough and Like  a fountain
Blood pools out.

Captured by gravity, so pretty as
They leave and descend to nothingness,
I am a pin cushion of life as it bleeds
From me weeping like regretful tears.
I am getting cold, screams have
Silenced motionless moments our now
mine to wordlessly endure.

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No words spoken from the dead taken by another's hand,
never knowing why they are cold on the ground.