A fortunate fella, walks into a cellar,
and there hears a song, from a lowly bank teller.

She hands him the cash, he bestows her his soul,
unlike his spirit, the money wouldn't fold.

Eyes are made, unbeknownst to him,
the same as to all, like the blame that was hidden.

Let us just say, our boy was now smitten,
and her looking faint, somehow only he would fall.

The dance, like a horse ridden,
tame but unsolved.

The ball, everyone attended,
but only he seemed attentive.

Magic equipped them with calls,
lowlights befell neath the stars.

Highlighted pupils, of flames
and pasts absolved.

The story was just beginning,
but the end already solved.

Driving far, just for more time to listen,
out of gas, but no smile missing.

Fading fast, because three years pales to infinity,
a beautiful ocean gave way to commotion.

A corrupted affinity, a mirror that could bleed,
if it could tell the story, maybe he could breathe.

She spells like annotation,
never spills her invisible ink.

He holds all her knives,
along with her mittens.

One carelessly loves, the other
stops to think.

A heart made with questions,
a soul like a coat.

Betrothed and invested,
in the bank of her throat.

A person that is tested,
a tester who cannot know.

A safe, and a man that will trust it,
a teller that won't tell, and
an audience that already knows.

I'm ready and I'm driving past,
the blur of life and I'm going too fast

hurts like a knife,
but no blood rushes past,

i have no night, only questions to ask,

You're ready, and I'm falling fast,
words like a knife, like blood in the night

turn on the light, the night's come fast.

fainting, awaking, seeing their paths,
where i thought us alone,
leading up to our home.

I am a weakling,
ashamed of his throne,
because you promised, I'd never be alone.

and I promised too, and betrayal never walks alone.

waves, lashing, softly, intensely,
spilling on my lips, down my shirt,
the sounds, vibrate in my mind til this day,
poetry exists without a word being said

a look in your eye,
matching what's behind mine,
oh, how holy, unholy can sometimes be,
sand on our cheeks, wind in our minds,

singing of the birds, laughing at our hurts,
stories of all kinds, discovering of our kind,
darlings who've died, dreams of new lines

I lost you in a night,
as we'd grown in the moonlight,
and so, we were gone,
but remain forever in time.

Some babies ain't made to make it,
sometimes you fake it till you break it,

but the sun shines and **** everything feels fine,
the wind blows and you'd might as well be living in a beautiful home,

food tastes so good, you have a family and aren't alone,
sounds so familiar you can pretend your dog isn't gone,

focusing so hard, studying, you might actually make it,
ready for the world, and no one is trying to take it,

smells like your favorite breakfast,
feels like christmas morning, beaming under a blanket,

I love you is awaiting you to enter a room,
favorite show coming on soon,

It's a beautiful morning, and all the babies make it,
It's a nice afternoon, grandma's gonna make it,

It's a nice sunset, you're no one's regret,
a gorgeous evening, nobody is leaving,

It's the night, and I'm dreaming.

whatever you wanted to call me,

sometimes it made me mad,
oftentimes it made me sad,

I'm not mad, I'm not sad,
I'm all around dead.

I didn't need your reminders to remember that I was bad,
I didn't need your kindness to still give you my hand.

Didn't need to call me son, to know you were dad,
Didn't need you to say you wanted me gone, because you were mom.

Oftentimes I wonder if it's me that doesn't understand,
sometimes I say, who will understand.

What if it were me,
that was best for the story,

I guess, I guess what it is that I've had.

Let them read, past the wind,
have them say what we've written,
in their mind, in this time,
in the midst of us being


The night is fine
but you
are
divine, dripping rain of the goddess
of outside, of my life,
my wine.

Crestfallen, brokenhearted,
until
but you
became my line, my reason to get started,
my blood.

Consummate, assimilate,
become one, because you,
are
the star that rose up, at dawn,
my flower,
my vine.

Let them read, past the wind,
have them say what we've written,
in their mind, in this time,
in the midst of we drinking
of our goblet, divine,
throughout all time.

Push, bring in the light,
let ellipses fight

such a daring battle, to choose,
pleasure, or the night

the shield or the knight,
the steed or its might

whispering or shouting,
talking or jousting

grass or the darkness,
black air, or a full moonlight

passing you by, or drowning
in the midst of it.

my armor of life

is purely of light

I could hold her, before she bestows

eternity with beauty, merely by flight,

I've cast eyes on a curse,

i'm trembling unrehearsed,

this might be the beginning of the worst

spare me, call the hearse, tell them I'm not answering,

he might have truly succumbed to the words.

The butterfly with knives for wings,
she stings far more than she sings,
and her colours are pronounced because she's chosen to never hide.

A yellow stem, birthing her blend to the sunshine,
lively and fiery, an embattlement of emotions and potions,
the soul of a bird who no longer gives way to commotions.

Behind her, are her eyes, because that presence never hides,
fading like before, are only the flowers and green vines,
moving perpetually forward, her fury is now kind.

Give them peace, write them lines,
float amongst the beasts, let death be an unthought of rind,

Let wings flutter, be in who the ever-working bees confide.

cuz I got you in my pocket and I'm not gonna say,
that if I put you in a locket my heart wont stay,

so give me that shine, take the day away,
cuz baby all i do is pray,

oh my darlin, I swear that I'd never say,
go ahead and stay away, cuz I'll give you my heart,
and you can lock it away, just don't make me pray.

sing, song, fall along,
the edge of the sword,
or the world, perhaps because you are bored.
Clanging, banging, the soul till it's torn.

I am not my best, because you are abhorred,
your name's become a mist,
where it was as real as a sword.
Panging, slanging, words until I'm torn.

Eyes, curse, look at the floorboards,
about her face, a cigarette, the roses petals burn,
call them shadows, they are her aura,
they are doors.

On all fours, seeking your mouth,
like an insect crawling on the floor,
I am sick with, a thing I was equipped with,
a heart, fallen like a star, claiming it's only witness.

Let's feel the steam,
turn it up,
slide your fingers across the sheen,
bliss,
being traced by your fingertips,
drawing to a kiss.

See through,
and you're the painting,
the wall is blue, we're the pink and
subtle red.

Those locks call my digits their keys,
but they're drenched and so I just squeeze,
I felt the wall tremble, with every nibble,
from careful artwork, to fierce scribbles.

I am a master at work, in the palm of his muse,
the oils and stream, our dance, we fuse,

She is a mastress at work, in the storm of his mind,
thunder and lightning, an unbothered vine.

Envelopes upon any place I befell.

Notes written for the sake of forsaking what I thought created but knew I'd never know.

Such are the stories of the taken, and those held by their own throats.

Whiles the heart styles itself like bacon, on a table where the heart has chosen to sow.

Empty chairs for miles, empty seats and seething seeds, making files on how to not to be.

All my loves, are stones that have landed where I have thrown, empty handed, giving only a fate to be bestowed.

Alone because it behooves me, it suits me like clothes that's too old to throw away.

Music playing but it isn't mine, and I have no say over what it says.

Betrayal is in my midst and underneath all my lines.

But because I know, I cannot say they are all lies.

Love has seemed to be the most perilous of ending themes, in that it begins but never flees past the initial scenes.

I am not alone, but accompanied by my mind.

Don't know what to feel, cuz you're lost in the fields,
and the roses don't want to talk no more,
You're my brother and I feel,  I hope your soul is outta steel,
because the weathers getting worse and the sweaters are a steal,
but the flowers don't want to talk anymore,
they just want you to kneel, take a breath, and make it last,
so the flowers cant ever talk anymore.

The lovers by the trees, skies blacker than not seeing,
and petals don't have any color anymore,
seem my mind for your sake, grab a hold and take,
what grip might slip, in the mind never shakes,
there's no colors to see, nor a mind to break,
the world isn't black no more.

In the clouds like a shield, in her eyes like a field,
and I stare but they don't blink anymore,
You're my lover and I feel, nothing like a colorless field,
I take your fingers, but they don't hold on, and you would never let go.

Times a goin, there's times that are still flowing, but the rhymes
don't bring me solace anymore.

I broke, ripped apart, tore even our hold, I'd swore our love would be
until we were old.

Forgive me, for the pain, forgive this feeble brain, cuz I lost myself
for nothing to gain.

Darling, old music don't sing no more, not around my parts, or around my heart, wife that ring looks cold, and you're gone.

why can i still see, and hear those birds, singing every morning, past all this hurt, how come the soul doesn't just explode.

Pain is no longer allegory, and I'm still just remaining me, oh baby,
how come, we don't just grow old.

The story looks at me, says in time and without even a please, but I, can only take so much more of this hold.

It's 8pm on a Tuesday,
she's getting drunk to sleep.

It's 9pm on a Tuesday, he's twenty and had a baby at noonday,
says he wants to die.

It's taking too long so she wants a break, guess there was never a thing to break.

Mother is sleeping and it's getting late, hope it's still much longer that I get to pray.

Time is ticking and I have no pay, what we all have in common is this and pain.

Of the ugliest things in the world, is how often something
becomes nothing.

How often things are laid to waste, because of a face,
or wrong kind of lace.

As if the hours before were no kind of trace, of a thing at all,
like the misery these things could never solve.

All of a sudden, the mystery is gone, the story, the want of it, is history, and you continue listening to the old song.

Toss me to the sharks, for such is the throng, of men, and mice,
of women and lice, of vultures that don't sleep in the nights.

Call me an armored woman, of beautiful armor, let her see glory in my sword being eternally gone.

Have a sweet place waiting, have the voices be cheers, have the misery become a song.

I breathe in her ashes, because she is as gone and more dispersed than yesterday,

the words I heard her say, were dreams, just fancies i esteemed, ultimately frivolous inklings,

to recant serves me no purpose, there is no pain, no hurt, just this, wistful sting,

heard a voice but once, and all i will have ever done is dreamt how she would sing.

It all hurts, the scrapes are just reminders,
that things we hold dear can get scars and lose their nerve,
that sometimes the night ends before a day begins,

Sometimes we fight, but what's the use,
where does it take us to even try to choose,
when the floor is all lava and we aren't wearing shoes,

crows crowing at night, calling their brothers,
calling their loves, calling their might,
just to end at the ending of another, calling for life.

Father, they don't have names,
Mother, is it their soul that I take,
is it mine, sister,
am I truly their brother.

what family have we,
us of the sorts with no further resort but to break,
I dance because I shake,
I bleed into a lake while beauty is my only sake.

How can it be, how can I seem, why can I dream,
but the stars are like birds afar, whose wings I just barely cannot make, their song, it seems fake.

On fire, skipping across the lake,
awaiting a painting that finally takes,
the moments into bliss,
the reading away from the fakes,
who dares, who calls my name,
who can tell me everything isn't the same,

all the words, coming like herds,
answering nothing, despite everything,
I heard, I break, I snake through the grounds
begging for the moments,
begging the torments, nag another day, let me escape,
I'm just a man, I yell, I scream, I bleed.

Grains of sand, slipping through my fingertips, because I'm alive and refuse to quit. There's songs, ampersands, sounds fueling my environment with waves and I'm not fighting them. Going inside reverberating through the halls in my skull, calling out my name like someone used to call it. Asking the shadows which one of them will help me solve it, this disaster lying in wait, telling me everything will be great, I stop to think, I stagnate

is answered by whom,
is it the shadows,
are they those that detest,
who protest as a test,
to strengthen themselves by showing a weakness,
are they the low lights sitting in meekness,
arguing about what bleak really is.

Do they say a thing at all, are they patiently waiting,
or are they hurling themselves as in a mad ball,
of lunatics and deprived fashions,
depraved for the sake of not being old fashioned,
carrying a sash with no idea of war,
teeth that gnash for the sake of relaxing.

Why, for what purpose?

are questions presented such as this,
is there any that suggest,
or do they just listen?
glisten in the corners like a dissipating mist and
carry on until nothing is all that remains to enlist.

Dead corpses, serving no purpose,
that can't be fed upon by the land,
and offer the eyes nothing to despise,
something like flowers, roses, converted to rind,
lacking aroma of any kind, angry that they were of such a kind.

The folks are acquitted,
Each and every one,
Checked out, without, perhaps not even listening.

The records for the souls
Willing ears unaware of the tolls

The weapons with reasons innumberable,
To break that delicate hold.
Every man grasps until his grip becomes old

Displaced memories filled with rage,
Happiness converted into covetry,
Longing for when you were bold.
Begging to undo what rhythms unfold

Mold, grow,
Be what you set out to be,
With this tree that's already grown.

On your back, looking up,
In bliss, or with your being torn.

Down the middle, and at every side
begging from the skies where only the devils preside.

Call his name, he has your name written on his line,
I tell you my brothers, what's been sold isn't our time.

Wake up, we aren't slumbering,
we are just fine.

I stand up strong, look in the mirror
Say grandma will be wrong soon,

Drive and work, keep a smile
try to not be the reason a frown ensues,

Supplicate to myself,
wonder and dream about what can be,

Call to not get an answer,
but she will is what I hope,

Tell my mother what's wrong and hopefully right
ask she will see decades more of nights,

Sit down and write, because it feels right
feel cold but indifferent of what's left,

Dreary thinking of the prospect that nothing changes
even with my best,

See my father hasn't opened years of messages,
I lament

Be strong because that's all that's left,
Smile because people deserve the best,

All for you, and them, dancing in my chest.

This woman wanted my babies,
and she would have made them beautiful,
Her forms and shapes I'd never seen,
and I'd kiss and trace her without cease,
She loved me, but I knew it wouldn't be,
now I'm alone and wondering.

Her eyes, her mouth, her skin, her insides,
a perfect heart, a fiery mind,
But I did not want to keep,
she was fine just falling asleep,
But I did not want to keep.

Jane, you were honest, and our love is slain,
I sang songs you wanted to keep playing,
eyes and breath were enough,
but I wanted to keep playing.

I've thrown you away, and you reciprocated,
but what could we have created,
If i held my words for breath abated,

My star, my singer, my sweetest touch,
I am sorry.

The guns are exploding,
Roses are growing,
Cars being towed,
Faces being turned,
Spirits being burned,
Roots and vines,
Fragile beings,
being born without thorns.

Scowls brewing,
Gist being missed,
Mother's hoping,
Father's coping,
Fists about to swing,
Hearts about to take,
For a final break.

Tires screeching,
Children beseeching,
Minors going through majors,
Fellows becoming a danger,
Almanacs gaining maniacs.

Calls being dropped,
Stars being ridden,
Families becoming bedridden,
Cars ready not to start,
A wildfire about to miss her mark.

Skies glowing,
Skies gleaming dull,
Stomachs full and null,
Eyes glowing for the first time,
Past them who will never know one.

Gardens, homes
Graves, alone
Tell them.

The sunrise is bright tomorrow,
Grass greener than ever,
That something happens I would have loved forever.

A call comes and it lasts even while you make dinner,
A kitten finds a home to make a winner,
A letter crosses oceans and skies for just your smile.

Her eyes reflect the moonlight and a kiss follows behind,
The songs turn into numbers and into hours you couldn't find,
Your voice comes back and the sun is warm and fine.

Our cars don't whine,
Hours with friends from old times,
Discovering new wine with someone on a new line.

The peace comes quickly,
Forgiveness is forgotten and moved on from,
Everyone is happy.

The dish served cold, but with what pretense?

I am in the dark and cold, I've left the desire to be bold,
I am and will lie in wait here, even until I am old --- to see you.

Your back, my malicious place, my new home,
I wish I didn't need this blade, so my wrists could undo your form
beginning at the ribcage. How I wish to dispel this rage.

The structure guarding me from doom, holding my visage
in oblivion's place. This friend gives me the ultimate weapon,
and the greatest devastation you will not face.

Your armour, reflecting moonlight, my hunger has become thirst.
That shield, for what purpose gave it you the sky, such deception,
I understand from this place.

The steed, galloping, taking, puncturing fate for your impending, never-ending doom...my guardian of certainty, my knowing beast under mine enemy's line.

I raised you, but to die. Oh, inkling, minuscule minor thought, developing into this moment so grand.

Brace, you cannot...I will bless thee with the duty but to rot. Your future days are of paradise, and I witness from this kingdom until you come.

The story is nameless, faceless, and veinless,
who says hello when everyone is dead.

How empty are the walls when no one showed up, again,
are these halls too commonplace to conjure or figure about.

Why does one say about the other what presence eliminates,
hello, goodbye, I love you, your matter is mine.

Take the skies, give them names,
clouds are meant to die, to dye,
universes with romance,
nothings with  everything.

I culminate into a never-ending sunrise,
I desecrate as desperate, father said.

I go, before the eyes, like I was never there
I terminate to speculate, dreaming.

You shouldn't be here.
You should've kept,
You wouldn't've.
We, aren't.

Okay, let me begin for the sake of clouding the din, with smoke of my own demise, dispersing into a thick black night, sounds funny huh, chasing the thrill in the little moments, I suppose anything to avoid the torments...sounds cheap huh, well packaged and attached, haha, it keeps going for the sake of flowing...next thing you know it's not so funny, and the ground is where you're hiding, your best kept secrets, like the sounds of trees that fall all alone, not wondering or caring if anybody heard them...screaming for an audience unknown...because of nothing, not because you lied or they lied, not because the truth ever existed, not because you looked like the truth, not because their leaving means anything. The growth is real for them.

Telling spells, to what? the night?? Okay, tell me then, let's make some use of these stars...let's have them be birds, flowers of the sky, starlings making songs in lieu of the basic chirp...go ahead, let's make beauty of the humble ugly...go ahead, let's keep spilling until the ground stops bugging. Until we can look at it, until it's just as unmoving as we, were ever gonna be.

I suppose I've been a ghost all along, you've done nothing wrong,
best to know that I was unstable from the start, I was just trying to be steady, I was just trying to actually be trying. So i say what I say so you can protect the future, of some other pair of lonely eyes, of other actually honest minds.

Fast, and deep,

Feeling like I should sleep,

Grow with the trees,

Make a lesson of mellow to the clouds,

Signed to the sky, my latest letters,

How does one become a million

How does truth ever sound in the beginning

How do lies ever become lies when they're perfect.

I'm asleep baby, you sung me there again.

Written to the wind, the lakes, the beautiful scene
that takes so little to love...I'm ready to go...
become a part of the flow, let it be a final kiss to the world.

cuz it sang songs it didn't know nothing about,
carrying false wisdom it isn't unsure about,

Take it allllll away, let me be like the wind and the lakes,
let them find a beautiful scene and say i just stopped to sing.

I'm ready, but are you... you're too ready, and deadening the world
with unperceived dreading...filling cups full of emptiness that would be better off being liquor...how much do you actually care.

For the sake of my own being,
you tell me there's no point in it all.

Without a word.

Let it be then, let me sing into a hopeless day and night.

How much, how often,
shall your shapes and persons consume me.

With but a single touch.

Let it be ethereal, wordly, or but a sweet kiss to me.

To them take everything, steal nothing,
give them every single thing, let them smile.

At the hands of their dreams.

Let, the letting be of stars and bountiful admixes.

I am afraid, but don't let them be.
Give them everything my heart does seek.
I am Fear, don't let them have to be.

What is it, who calls it...by what force is it established.

The calls, the missing, the longing?

Shall I, take my eyes to different sights,
Chase the crowded frantic lights?

Who says, who answers, what's behind it.

Tell me the hours, show me your powers,
Take your hands and give me the flowers.

Destitute like a *******, winning from the sake of losing?

Woman, father? What's behind!?

Painted, but left nothing to listen.

Go ahead, Go, run, again, like you always did.

I hope you are there, and you answer...
because what we've had isn't something that always happens...
truthfully, it is rare.

This amount of comfort and ease, the feeling we've both had inside ourselves --- so quickly. Baby! It is beyond rare!

Perhaps my kisses weren't up to par, maybe in my voice the tone of these texts wasn't there...but I take time, please, take time...because this is rare.

Doubting myself is my specialty, but I mean it, you can make me change the world, and I promise that about every little thing that is you, I will care. Please, believe me --- understand --- we are rare.

You seem to have thrown everything away, and something I know or cannot seem is enough to not even try...I suppose you esteem me no longer...and perhaps it's more ugly than beautiful a thing that makes me rare.

I'll wait, though I'll pretend not to.

I swear.

Sage to ward away the bad spirits...
I am confident, I am sure...
please don't make me doubt,
please don't let me leave without.

But who am I begging, what nature or stone,
what call am I making, here, alone...

You see me, and the kiss is deep,
I am in bliss, but my thoughts keep
arising before I fall them, and tell myself to focus on the dream.

We're inside now, I am,
kissing you deeply, and you're crying out...

But I am deeper in my mind, asking myself what I'm worried about.

The conversation is too short, I can tell, you can tell.

You say it's time to go, and now my writing is my crying out.

I've encountered lands barren, with nothing, only nothing, you.
I check inside the broken houses, wreathed in rose petals, lying to the passersby: nothing but nothing, any will find. Counting time keeps ticking and ashen hands sifting, hours go in twelves, but our emptiness we cannot undo. Are we the heartless or was your fire long past due. I stare at the sky and wonder, how many seek to carry you; and the limitless times they are engulfed to nothing, by the nothing that is you. Emptiness is painless, depending on its place, it can consume us, and set about flames, reaching at nothing, setting all they touch to look too. Holocaust becomes, all whom wish to find a you.

The same miseries I sing, Have you ever come around?
Do you paint me found in that easel were the lost abound?

If I sing into that sunken town,
its dirt roads and wastelands of old clothes,
Will I but call the animals of the fall,
will the angel's toes enter the mad ball,
The stagnant paroxysm stuck in a still frenzy

will the wolves in howl drown my call
make my dream a figment doubly null
If I sit like a shadow, can they suffer a reflective maw
glisten again, like children with sunlit pearls

The intoxicating rave is over
She's no petals to throw you
sickened and befallen with you
she's fancied a plague of you
I am at every end

Run till you comprehend
your feet are dry as I've wept instead
Red footprints are letters in my head
I'll follow you to the place we met

I'll decide to sit,
everytime
I'll fall for the smile
I'll stare in the awkward way
you'll put me in the end

forever and once again

my dear... walk by once again.

Hey, it hurt today...
it wasn't like then,
when you smiled after saying Saray,

You left me lit
and your smile had not gone away,
God, send her my way
I did pray

You sat where i started,
and i feel thats where my heart is,
In class, with the timid boy,
too scared to look behind

She crept in day...
i always feared beginnings,
in some odd way
I knew not how to love in day.

I fell droll
As a bed whom no one lays
neath the steam of sun rays,
I grew cold
not knowing the game to play

Stayed.
for a second
loved for two
lied for many
Confused the truth,
i was your mirror,
I hated me
i mistreated me
i felt the opposite for me,
who believed in me
Was we

Was she?
Was it a figment thing
have i dreamt whilst i sing,
i am mad in reverie

Sorry, girl from the other day,
if i didnt make you stay,
i hope its not be cause i chose to say,
i love you,
and that you really didnt feel the same way

----if your face wasnt lying on that day.
i apologize, to throw what you saved,
when you walked, like an angel on its way.

Saray... the writer loved you more than his day, but had never loved in your way, but wrote to float butterflies away, and now
he totes another burden on to lay

It hurts, and you are not from that day,
But i swore id care till you hated me away,
i stand in a field of beauty
and choose a girl to see...
yeah, thats what Saray is to me.