The silhouette of our play ground,
I can still breathe our game;
The sun burns my eyelids;
As I rest from being sane;
Hush boy
Our worlds gone quite;
Your mind
Will try to fight it;
Chest to chest;
Grip me longer;
You push against my lips;
Bite alittle harder;
Winning for now;
But not for long;
You may be evil;
But I'm trained in "wrong"
My heart is ragged;
My lips grazed closer;
Sshhh,
This play of ours
Is far from over...

I've always been...
Self-destructive.

Every word I say to you
Is living proof.


And every word I don't say
Is my dying grace...

Truth is,
I don't understand what I'm feeling.

And I don't think my poetry does either....

I just realized that no matter what I do
or say
or conquer
or love
or ****
or create
or ****
or consume
or throw up
or give..........

It will never be enough.

For tonight there's one we lay to rest;
Not just a brother, not just a friend;
In blood we shared our honors true;
And in words we planned what we would do;
But the words they held no concrete;
And in stone is no more plans;
As tonight we lay to deepest rest;
A brother, and a man.

The night may be cold;
But its warmer than home;
Not just the building but the feeling;
She feels everywhere she roams;
The rain hits and melts the tar;
That the streetlights set on fire;
As her footsteps cloud her thinking;
She's walking on a wire;
Buttons up her jacket;
Turns her coat up to the cold;
She keeps walking with her eyes blurred;
As her tears follow on the road;
As the storm clouds bleed her silence;
And the thunder steals her screams;
She wraps her arms around her heart;
As she trembles at the seams;
She drops down at a corner;
As her soul begins to shake;
She's not asking for a miracle;
Just someone that isn't fake;
But he won't hold her tightly;
As the pain falls from her eyes;
And every breath becomes a battle field;
Where nothing makes it out alive;
The night wind is duly howling;
As her storm clouds slowly bleed;
As her heart loses its stitching;
And alone, her soul falls to its knees...

I can't tell what is helping;
And what's condescending;
Is this happiness starting?
Or sanity ending?
At the end of a rope;
So give me some more;
I'll tie up this noose;
Behind the closed door;
Thinking you're snapping;
So easily lit;
Really to scream;
Feels like a new fit;
On the verge of a breakdown;
Trying to control it;
But I can't even move it;
Nevermind mold it;
Fearing the touch;
But needing the feel;
Of someone around;
Someone that's real;
Cuz everyone is moving;
And everyone leaving;
So the cycle restarts;
And my hearts barely beating;
This feeling is new;
But the question is if its real;
Is this pity;
Or do they really feel?
Petrified of this ending;
I'm not changing quick enough.
Are they getting impatient?
Am I just too tough?
Don't know why he's trying;
They've failed before;
So do yourself a favor;
There's the door;
The panels are falling;
As I begin to scream;
This is a nightmare;
That I thought was a dream;
My minds shed, a household;
Abandoned, barely standing;
Broken plates and shattered panes;
Using shards for my branding;
Cuz I think I am cracking;
And the windows will shake;
And something tells me you won't hold me;
When my screaming soul rebreaks...