Temperatures drop inside my organic pump
and my rising sun
Has shed its last smile
Is it save out there?
Can I ignore their stares?
Is this my final goodbye?
Am I too unkind to eyes for social communication?
The day my lover died
I lost my will to breathe
For she was the only one
Who could ever relate to me
Like I said
Is it safe out there?
But who am I talking to?
I'm so glad I met you
I could never forget you

Oversaturated in grease,
Frying in the light of embarrassment,
Here,
Take a plate and pick off the unnecessary,
With oily fingers to stuff your bellies,

I give you my pleasure and you give me pain,
Bite off the circuits of my love called an aorta vein,

I can't sit here wondering if you love me,
I need some source of validation,
So stop chewing on my heart,
For your own parasitic elation,

the bottle's like a violin,
screaming demons in my stomach,
a cyborg forging information as lunch,
purging an urge for self-destruction,
my outer shell's cold but the circuits a storm,
of electrical database lifespan into megabytes of ****,
see death is a story,
and my analogies are allegories,
mourning after the goriest morning is NOT worth storing,

blank pages turn into mythical dissipation,
and with that loud speaker you'd think he could pen down imagination,

a midnight gig playing with cosmic instrumentation,
for the humanoid race place your conscious on your invitation,

Sometimes my identity,
Feels like my enemy,
A charred carcass of the artist with Bohemian symmetry,
It feels like my brain leaks from my ears,
When anxiety has poked holes,
My nauseous kicks gears,
But in the sky,
I study these black helicopters circling ,
A merchant clergy demigod machine that can grant me serendipity,
Am I that peanut gallery displaying a wickedness grimace?
At the show where the iceberg never sunk relationships?
I'm just poorly cataloged,
And I'm here with a lion in Oz curse,
Dispersed into realms where courage is brought in a hearse,
Now let me wish these helicopters,
Were an implied gesture,
Mankind and nature divorced in court,
That's why I'm messed up,
So to the wings of machine mystique please come true,
I am desolated greatness on the apocalyptic ground below you,

Everywhere I go,
Everywhere I sleep,
Someone has their life,
Except for me,
Everybody is born to die,
But its the time you spend,
That makes it worth the pain,
But lately I wish it would end,

But there's another sad story,
That irises deem redundancy,
If I told you that you are beautiful,
Would you comfort me?

Everyone knows,
Everything goes,
Even the sun,
Even the snow,
So why was I born,
When I wanted to end from the beginning,
I am not scheduled for this game of bluffs,
Why is life so belittling?

Throughout time,
I've contain the most treacherous of thoughts,
Pots of boiling frogs,
That my ignorance help caught,
My zodiac has disappeared,
And my driveway is stained with blood,
The corpses of my exes,
Met my own OJ glove,
What is love?
A belly up cadaver in the river of depression?
A place to float above the loneliness?
A temporal boat of protection?
Well I've died and came back,
Dumber than ever,
Maybe in time Ill adapt to this numbness,
A sponge unworthy to sever,

They point exaggerated barrels at my temple,
But they can't go through it,
The act alone is miserable,
The bittersweet police ensues,

My swan song's consist of an encore,
I don't want to be depressed,
Another cliche statistic bliss in the obsolete of death,
Or a string of narcissism,
Fitted within' a poetical prism,
A postcard of ill remembrance,
Soaked in vats of venom,

The bittersweet police chase me,
Bitter is my imagery;
and there's a sweet spot in my apathy