I sold my soul

I sold my soul again last night
Six times up on the block
I traded for a friend of mine
I thought it was a lock

Don't speak to me of Jesus
Don't speak of what is fair
I sold my soul again last night
For a friend no longer there

Cancer took him early
He had so much more to give
I sold my soul again last night
In hopes that he would live

I guess the devil owns me
At least he comes to talk
God, just is a bully
But the devil walks the walk

My friend won't be forgotten
Of this fact I am sure
I sold my soul again today
To make sure someone finds a cure

"Precious, brave little bird, it's not you, it's never you, it's me."

And that was the kindest way
Anyone's ever left me.
There was no looking me in the eyes,
There were no disputes in color--
A simple text in white font,
Explaining everything without the words needed.

I was too much,
And they felt they were too little.

People walk out of my life all the time.
There's a lot of temporary people
That stumble upon me,
With no intention of staying or being honest.
But I'm a permanent type of person--
So let me tell you, we don't often mix well.

But it was different upon her exit,
Because I know she intended to stay--
But life doesn't always work out that way.
And I wonder if she knew
That she was one of the best people
I had ever met.

And somewhere inside my heart,
Where I have etched all across the walls in
Calligraphy much more beautiful than my own handwriting,
"Please be strong; Please be brave."
I have also hidden away parts of myself
That will forever be
Her brave little bird.

if your gonna rob a bank rob it big and make sure you got a plane waiting
because the FBI and a host of other law enforcement will want to nail your ****
and how much cash can one person carry anyhow? and you will have to pay the pilot so your small stash is getting smaller and you have not even left the ground and now two people are involved which makes it kinda tricky because it will never be a secret you can keep to yourself
get yourself a job kid there can be romance in the mundane
even if it takes a lifetime its better than being in jail.

i had a dream once
but now i am awake

Theft I try to contemplate.
What is it that lingers,
On finger tips,
On stranger's lips.
What is mine, tell me when?

I shake the tingling weight.
Why is it, that desire,
On silver trinkets,
On breast couplets.
Hath lead me lost. In vain?

Who had it first? What god.
When is mine forever,
On eve of death,
On ****** unknown.
Who? That pleasure is beneath you.

nothing is safe from these hands

how many know i used to write
in lowercase when
the senses died in my fingertips
do you remember
a time when i thought that it was better
you hated me than loved me
because i didn't have to fight it?
tired
has always been code for depressed
stressed has always been code for
undressed in front of the mirror shaking at the knees
because i don't like what i see.
i have been in denial
as to whether i am fine
for a few weeks because i don't have the option
of weakness right now

why
how
why
how

i don't know
who i am and i'm sorry
that you don't either and it confuses you.

sandbox.
for castles
to be washed away.
the heart needs
to be fed.
magic wand.
now you see it,
now you don't.
play with it,
jongleur,
the moon sand.