I am split in half,
right down the middle in perfect symmetry.
One side wants to laugh,
while the other floats in purgatory,
and I didn't want to rip at my guts,
I'm just begging for these thoughts to finally die,
as the feelings are like paper cuts,
not unlike soap in the eye

I find ways to jump start my heart,
as it hasn't been the same since you've torn it apart.
Meryl Streep wins the Oscars, but it's I that presents,
making a comedy out of a life of torment.
I've been at the end of my rope for so very long,
that I've tied multiple knots to test if it's strong.
I ended up with burned palms and scratched off fingertips,
I now have an excuse as to why I can't get a grip.

Now a days I question if I've become a mute, or if I just have nothing to say.
I wear disaster like a tailored suit, that on my bed every morning you lay.
Pick out the best tie, to match my eyes, to choke and strangle my life away,
and shine the shoes, that kick to bruise, but never lead my form to stray.

Keep the blades away from my hands, I want to slice off my ears,
not like Van Gogh's beautiful stand, just tired of annoyances I hear.
I'm sorry that my misery in these pages can't be scrubbed clean, they just will not doff.
Face to face, you'd think me on the Silver Screen, I guess those acting classes paid off.

A schizophrenic lullaby, a portrait that beauty paints with a lie.
A lonely, clear blue peaceful sky, constantly raining beyond the naked eye.
A confusing truth at very best, pushing sweet words down with the rest.
An undeserving, agonizing test, to determine if I'm worth room in your chest

Long years going strong, and the empty pill bottles take up too much space.
Was I right? Were you wrong? It was someone else's medicine I was made to taste.
The trite blabbering needs to stop, there's an issue here that's coat heavy with silence,
but I don't want the topic to drop, I just would rather not end it in violence.

Take the mountains away, and the sun from day,
turn every painting into a Dorian Gray.
I read into a verse, and my mind only makes it worse,
I think the ability of thought isn't a gift but a curse.

The hours all blend in with smoke, and blank filled far out stares,
I'm not like the common folk, who live their lives with trivial cares.
I used to be so ****** smart, now I stumble on every single word,
was my soul torn apart? I wonder if you even heard.

Take the mountains away, and the sun from day,
turn every painting into a Dorian Gray.
I read into a verse, and my mind only makes it worse,
I think the ability of thought isn't a gift but a curse.

My eyes have changed colour since that day,
but they soften when I remember thoughts of her.
Twirling pools of green, blue and grey,
and I'm not sure which shade I prefer.

I want every feeling and every confession to fall upon my hollowed chest,
'cause I'm still reeling from the last lesson, heart and head need a rest.
I'm expecting more than will ever come, but I've built you to the sky,
the breast beats resemble a drum, heart and head want to lie.

Destruction of both, resurrection of the pair,
I swore an oath that I swore I'd never swear.
Each line was read, and each word was spoken true,
and my heart and my head are always led right back to you.

Winds of winter burn my skin and the grey skies are too long of a test,
I never wanted to let anyone in, heart and head need a rest.
I can't be kept together and to prevent unravelling; I barely try.
I'm scared I'll feel this way forever, heart and head want to die.

There's always some growth, always healing of the tear,
I swore an oath that I swore I'd never swear.
The ink slowly bled, colours of red and blue,
and my heart and my head are always led right back to you.

I'll string together tender words, I'll only compile the best,
it's just too bad they're never heard, heart and head need a rest.
This is the sweetest love as even the torment has got me high,
it's just too addictive of a drug, heart and head want to fly.

Destruction of both, resurrection of the pair,
I swore an oath that I swore I'd never swear.
Each line was read, and each word was spoken true,
and my heart and my head are always led right back to you.

I grasp a taste of purity, and I want to set it aflame,
as the past is blinding me and highlighting the blame.
I try to block it out to forget what has been done,
but it still screams and shouts, it’s something you can’t outrun.

I view pictures of violence, and I want to set it aflame,
hearing the empty silence always calling out my name.
I cut off every limb and hope that the blood still flows,
my veins are neatly trimmed but my tainted flesh regrows.

I sit with lifeless lampposts and attempt a peaceful dwell,
but running come the ghosts, pushing me back down to Hell.
They line up and take numbers, listing my damaged pride,
I have to bite my tongue until the darkness fades inside.

I lie under the last tree; its leaves were set aflame.
The fire burning free, no one on this earth could ever tame.
The wind drags it out and the ashes fade to dust,
I used to pray for drought, but the Gods have lost my trust.

I see her sad eyes and her life was set aflame,
I cry out to the skies, begging the clouds to rain.
I cradle my soft soul as it changes in its hues,
the story is already told but the ending was left skewed.

Poor old trees, I talk to them too much these days,
if they’re listening they know my voice, and they know my ways.
But it’s getting old, as I miss a soul, that could never be replaced,
trees have no arms, they have no heart and they have no face.

The grass is good to lie with, it’s such a faithful friend,
but it won’t stay green forever, only the days the sun can lend.
But when it’s there, thin and fair, you’re only on it for a while,
grass has no eyes, it has no laugh and it doesn’t have a smile.

The wind is such a comfort, it embraces you with the air,
but you’ll always be reminded that the protection isn’t there.
But when it aborts, all its support, you will find yourself so alone,
wind has no past, no family and it does not have a home.

The stars are such a shoulder, they’re there for all your tears,
they listen to your troubles and keep secrets of all your fears.
But they must leave, eventually, blocked by morning’s glow,
stars have no mind, they have no voice and they do not have a soul.