Could not my mind have conjured this?
Could this not be all a dream?
I cannot identify illusion
is nothing as it seems?

Could I so lonely be
that I've contrived this world alone?
And everyone I've ever loved
A creation of my own?

I don't believe you're make believe
Of you I'll always ponder.
I need you real, here with me.
I cast aside my Sonder.

What mysticism is this, that the bluebird fly by my window
  and wake me from peaceful slumber
That the apathy of a summers day can be repulsive to the few
  who fail to appreciate the eternal beauty of rest
That juggernaut engines rail by the sidings of the city
  and shake the Earth that mothers our day
Or that persistent devices buzz and ring and beep and cry
  on the tabletop by the window, as the bluebird fly by

You died,
took your life,
couldn't handle,
all the strife.
You are not weak,
but it seems,
you hit a peak.
You left your family,
you left your friends,
leaving them,
to what ends?
Now they lay,
alone at home,
while you lay,
in your tomb.
What did you think,
when you drank that bottle,
did you know you would sink,
sinking at full throttle.
What did you think,
when you tied that noose,
what did you deduce,
by causing that abuse?
And now that you are gone,
you do not see what you have caused,
you were not strong,
to at least have paused.
Think of more than yourself,
you are not just another, on a shelf.
But now you are no longer here,
and it is slowly becoming more clear,
you wiped yourself out, with growing fear.
Think of your life,
think of the strife,
think of,
your future wife.
Because once you are gone,
so are they,
you will not be the one,
who has to pay.

I stood in the street
                       In the suns direct heat
                                                       I melted

                                                       Into
                       The storm drain below
Mixed with the water

I began to flow

Far far away
                     Home to the ocean
                                                     From where I once came
                                                     Back in the sun
                     Heated  I rose
And again fell as rain

my thoughts are stars
I cannot fathom into constellations
my thoughts are speedway cars
they wont pace themselves consistent
my thoughtless days are like my self control
nonexistent