I may be young
And I may be dumb
But Im just as bright as the setting sun

I might want to hide
I might want to die
But the need to breathe is enough to survive

I just want to run
I just want to be done
But first, im gonna have some fun.

People may fear death
People may run like heck
Although it may seem like hell, its just a part of lifes little spell.

I wanna let you go, but if I do ill be empty. I'll go mad. Your my 24/7 but i'm your once in awhile.


a.m.

I'm on the wrong side of Heaven,
I'm on the outside looking in,
Peeping through a window
At the warmth that lay within.

On the low side of Paradise,
Out along the fringe,
The streets are just gold-plated,
And with corrosion, tinged

Beyond the reach of Zion,
Somewhere across the tracks,
With the Fallen's tarnished halos,
Their wings all burnt and black

I walk along the boundary line
Here I'm forced to dwell-
Not saint enough for Heaven,
Nor sinner fit for Hell.

The brilliant idea you've been
waiting for expired
a moment after someone else thought
it. Implementing emptiness
has become your forte and scavenging for
adrenaline
within the souls of second hand tennis shoes
is representative of stability in your crooked,
unbalanced way, when
you glean nothing but
past tense grammar
on any given day of your actual life.

There's no grand story here. Go somewhere else.

And you can't even paint a sympathetic
portrait
of your dry and chaffed lips, of purple ink
stains beneath eyes, of words unattainable
stuck around your gums,
because the guy over there painting an unequivocal
masterpiece is homeless and
utilizing dirt to make a rainbow with
seven more colors than
your store bought acrylics ever could.

Pity is
stupid
when you've got everything
but that