The stack of stones in my throat
lodged firm since my youth,
The ship sunk but I missed the boat
my lies are soaked in truth.
Every remaining image has been erased,
I miss it more than I admit,
maybe it’s just been misplaced,
in an area left forgotten to sit.
Scribbling an echo down
my notebook’s incomplete,
lacking adjective to a noun,
description’s too discreet.

The road evolves into an ice rink,
snow piles now a wood board.
A crack comes and down I’ll sink,
time lost I can not afford.
The cold embraces that replaced heat,
radiation poisoning from the sun,
but still the rays felt so sweet,
I thought I was it’s only one.
Translating from a heart,
the message is unclear,
a sentence that could never start,
and one we could never hear.

Now I see all the fires lit,
playing chance with a flame,
this round I don’t wish to forfeit,
but I’m not ontop of my game.
The breadcrumbs I left as a trail,
are far and few inbetween,
and so far they’ve gotten stale,
blue mold blends in with the green.
Reciting a favourite memory,
one I wish I could forget,
replace the plot points cleverly,
and rearrange the character set.

Praying for a dedication
from any soul to stop,
but I’ll take my medication
until my eyes drop.

Heart fire,
all admire.
Heart fire,
it will never tire.

Scribbling an echo down
my notebook’s incomplete,
lacking adjective to a noun,
description’s too discreet.
Scribbling an echo down,
my notebook’s incomplete,
to the words forever bound,
feelings wedged in concrete.

I read a disturbing truth someone questioned on the internet,
“the world didn’t end in 2012, but since then have you truly felt alive?”
I don’t wish to presume, but I would be more than willing to bet
that you feel the same, that you’ve fully lost your drive.
Marking calendars like clockwork, each box an imposing X,
but you’ve lost your absolute and essential favourite red pen.
We live as NPC’s but I’d like to believe we’re far more complex,
though we make the same mistake over and over again.

No sun burnt out, no moon fell,
but I swear the galaxy has changed,
we’re dazed and living under a spell,
our lifestyle’s completely deranged.
There was deviation from the reservation
that fate held out for us.
Abandoned salvation for sedation
the golden pastures have turned to dust.
But there’s got to be a link between worlds.

I know there’s growth in destruction
instead I loathe interruption.
Can silence be considered a confrontation?
I know there’s redemption in healing,
but I take each hit without showing feeling.
Can violence be considered mediation?
Decipher every word’s meaning
while performing spring cleaning
we’re all the same; we just want a good purge.
Ignoring every clear right sign
but complain about the fuzzy line
the one that’s crossed when you can’t resist the urge.

No sun burnt out, no stars died,
but the dimensions sure are blurring.
Auto pilot’s on and gravity’s been defied,
and no one sees this all occurring.
There was deviation from the reservation,
that fate held out for us.
I trade motivation for inebriation,
the golden pastures have turned to rust.
But there’s got to be a link between worlds.

Time isn’t so strong when you can break the clock
you know it’s possible to push back the hands.
For fate is chosen but destiny you can mock
from the deep seas to the hottest sands.
The past is already written
the ink is already dry.
The fire’s already been lit and
the flames are reaching towards the sky.
I’ve explored every emotional cave
and I’ve trekked through every lonely field.
When you’re scared it’s the only time you can be brave,
so grab your sword and don’t forget your shield.

No sun burnt out, no seas ran dry,
but the world suddenly stopped turning.
the world’s a game and life’s a lie,
but we must keep internal fires burning.
There was deviation from the reservation
that fate held out for us,
I replace meditation with self deprecation
the golden pastures I no longer trust.
But there’s got to be a link between worlds.

A tango of two souls
and they’re dancing in the stars.
She spins around and down black holes
while my left foot backs onto Mars.
A tango of two hearts
they waltz back and forth within the flame,
each forgot their parts
but they carry on the same.

Two to tango, two for tea,
it’s a sad truth but I’m feeling that three is company.
Two to tango, two eyes to see,
I’m surrounded fully but I’m completely lonely.

A tango of two souls
and they’re dancing in the dark,
hiding all their freckles and moles
unaware they’re simply just a mark.
A tango of two hearts
they waltz back and forth within the flame,
subsequently all ends with all that starts,
and we’re just shuffling the blame.

Two to tango, two for tea,
it’s a sad truth but I’m realizing I’m not who I used to be.
Two to tango, two eyes to see,
the horizon is in the distance but the sun is lacking.

Hearts hold no dancing shoes
but mind hears only song,
against both I must refuse
both choices equally right and wrong.
I would see all distance erased
and forms pressed tight together,
but the beat is too fast paced;
I swear next opportunity I will do better.

Two to tango, two for tea,
it’s a sad truth but I’m accepting I fail to view clearly.
Two for tango, two eyes to see,
that I was never cut out for this type of dancing.

Tell me I’m not stupid for allowing myself to feel,
searching out for the next wound before letting the former heal,
I’ve been convincing myself that the invisible path is real,
but it’s not wide enough for two; one can stand and one can kneel.

If there’s anything in this world that tightens my chest,
it’s the moment I am strangled by vulnerability.
I keep it chained away to the very best,
to the very best of all my abilities.
Take all those thrown away phrases
and piece them back together to hit my ears
it’s funny how the long silence still amazes,
amazes me after all these quiet years.

Are you Sonic the hedgehog,
‘cause this is a chaos emerald.
Wipe away the tears to see the fog,
my world shakes when once it trembled.
I’ve got an easy road ahead of me
where the path could be so easy,
but I’m drawn to walk into the sea,
I wish that instinctive pull would leave me.

We humans are such destructive creatures
we turn soil to scorched earth with just one touch.
It’s the curse of emotions and all it features,
makes us decline a cast and accept a crutch.
We fall prey to our monsters like a disease,
do I pick life support or a clean cut cure?
A solid steel spine or weak and shaking knees?
Toxic lungs or a gasp of air too pure?

Should I swallow this gulp of mundane routine
conform and erase all individuality?
The white picket fence in photographs is so pristine
but it’s covered in dust and mold the naked eye can’t see.

My storybook ending is incomplete
as I didn’t much care for the ending.
I traded in tragedy instead of something sweet,
‘cause I’ve never been so good at pretending.
All along there are holes both in the souls and plot,
and I wish to roll but can’t afford the toll as empty hands are all I got

I’ve been wearing a mask and telling lies
to anyone who will listen in this town,
and sunglasses can hide your tired eyes
but they can not hide your frown.
I’ve been saying all the right words
every day and on repeat,
the song blends in with the birds
and the traffic on the street.

I’ve been lying in bed,
arguing with the silence in my head.
Every book I’ve read
just says the same things that you said.
I’ve been lying in bed,
thinking I’d be better off dead.

I’ve been walking with a limp and a crutch
even though my legs are working just fine.
And I’m always thinking but never say too much,
but I will never turn down a line.
I’ve been speaking all the wrong thoughts in my head,
but no matter what I do they seem to never go away.
I’ve tried replacing them with the righteous ones instead,
but it’s tantamount cause the instinctive ones just stay.

I’m lying in bed,
arguing with the silence in my head.
The sunlight I dread,
I much prefer the nighttime instead.
I’m lying in bed,
starving though I’ve just been fed.
I’m lying in bed,
thinking I’d be better off dead.

I didn’t get to choose the colours for my painting, but I swore that I tried my very best.
And what do you do when you hate your creation?
Do you hang it up with the rest?
I packed for a trip with no return
but skipped bringing anything essential,
I had to walk a path just so I could learn
that every action is consequential.
And I’ll tell you now that even the right type of misery can be happiness
it all depends on what you yourself choose to feel.
Nothing is perfect so it’s best to embrace the mess,
it can be imaginary but we both know it’s real.

I’m lying in bed,
arguing with the silence in my head.
Every single layer I shed
is consumed by ink and lead.
I’m lying in bed,
hoping for a second chance with each med.
I’m lying in bed,
thinking I’d be better off dead.

I was born innocent, lacking brand
from a mortal only womb,
but my glory walks hand in hand
with my own impending doom.
Though I have a body of immense vulnerability
I have a mind of never seen before power,
and I could call a truce of no hostility
but only keep it up for an hour.

There was no cold there was no heat, there was nothing at all.
There was no winter or spring, no summer or fall.
There was no sky and no clouds, no darkness or light,
there was no choice, no consequence, there was no wrong or right.

I once had wings but clipped them to fit in
and I wore a halo but it went dim with sin.
I wet my appetite tasting bliss
but before I knew it was all done,
I guess I’m cursed to be Icarus
‘cause I flew too close to the sun.

I inhaled sweet nothings into a golden lung but quickly lost my breath
before my head never truly hung,
I was oblivious to life, love and death.
Though I have a skeleton that can easily break
I have a spirit that is stronger than gold,
and the only thoughts that now keep me awake,
are if I’ll keep my young heart when I grow old.

I once had wings but clipped them to fit in
and I wore a halo but it turned to rusted tin.
I glided over the darkest abyss
because I could never run,
I guess I’m cursed to be Icarus
‘cause I flew too close to the sun.

My only mortality lies within my head and my heart,
I attempt to numb the first, the other has been torn apart.
Lounging on light clouds that weigh a ton,
it was always my home plain,
‘cause even though I’ve been destined for the sun,
you know deep down I’ve always been the rain.

I once had wings but clipped them to fit in
and I wore a halo but it faded with my grin.
When I return to the sky there’s something I’ll miss,
it’s my soulmate, my one,
I guess I’m cursed to be Icarus
‘cause I flew too close to the sun.

Of all the words I never got to say
there’s still three that haunt me to this day.
They’re plaguing my skies to turn them all to grey,
I wonder if you ever would’ve felt this way.

I’ll make this cryptic so it stretches it out real long,
less descriptive but the message still stands too strong.
But it sounds so light that it’s become a song;
You were right, you were never wrong.

Of all the feelings I still have these in my chest,
weighing down the muscle slightly above my left breast.
First I thought it a lesson but now I believe it’s a test,
to see if I can beat my head and get some rest.

Read between the line,
when I say that I’m doing fine,
and try to translate my foreign sign,
if you care enough to devote the time.

I’ll make this cryptic so it stretches it out real long,
no intent to be vindictive but the time has come along.
My fear; I’ll fight, even though I’m too headstrong,
you were right, you were never wrong.

She said to always look at the stars
especially the ones that shine so bright.
I’ll keep the memory for my reservoirs,
but the constellation was her in my sight.
You weren’t wrong, you were always right.