I’ve been counting stacked bricks
running my hands over the grout,
tracing each corner with my fingertips,
building them up to cover my doubt.
You could marvel at the beauty in the stone,
completely ignoring that it fully insulates
it keeps all out and ensures you’re always alone,
can’t even slip through the cracks or the grates.

I was dying to get out from where I was in,
oblivious to my own paradise,
with a tongue in cheek and **** eating grin,
ignoring all the ways words can slice.
I’m always left with empty hands
and your court is overflowing with *****,
a simple truth no one understands;
there is no life beyond Verona Walls.

I’m inspecting crumbling support beams,
running my hands and my skin catches a splinter.
It’s not as structurally sound as it seems,
but the continuing construction it does not hinder.
What do you even label an impenetrable wall,
is it a friend or is it a foe?
Do you judge it on it’s length or if it’s tall,
I guess only the person on the other side will know.

I was waiting to escape my own dwelling,
unaware of the safety it always could bring,
could I ever return home, there is no telling,
but the consensus is a no that can sting.
I’m aimlessly drifting among the sands,
and you mistake my pleas as cat calls,
a simple truth no one understands;
there is no life beyond Verona Walls.

How can you know if the grass is more green,
if you cannot even glance to the other patch?
It could be more vibrant, or just more clean,
or it could just be a perfect match.
When you know every corner and every nook,
you can’t help but feel that you’re Iocked in a cage.
Maybe I’m dismissive and should take another look,
I mean sometimes you have to re-read the same page.

I’ve seen that time keeps going on
and that our lungs continue to breathe,
but the blue skies and sunshine are gone,
I’ll never forget the day it chose to leave.
I’ll cling to all crumbs and strands,
ditch rivers and streams to chase waterfalls,
‘cause no one ever understands
there is no life beyond Verona Walls.

You’re undecided whether you like me better blonde or brunette
it doesn’t matter as my hair is dying and coming loose.
I’ve abided to the unspoken terms of complete regret,
I made my bed, I’ll lie in it, tucked in tight as a noose.
Lifeless eyes that are overwhelmed with saggy lids,
so very tired but they’re still searching for a spark.
Feeling unwanted and rejected but still accepting bids,
but I belong on the sidelines and kept in the dark.

We can talk to each other about anything and everything
as long as it’s spoken in non corresponding code.
I’m at a dinner party fasting with nothing to bring,
at the wrong house on the wrong road.
You’re trapped in the maze that is my mind,
and that place may just become your home.
I’d direct you out if there was an exit I could find,
but even breaking down the perimeter reveals a dome.

Won’t you please be kind,
and please rewind.
Travel back and find,
the roots where we bind.
Stained from tear streaked flushed cheeks
and shredding through each line,
months became years but first days became weeks
and I still reply “I’m fine.”
It gets weaker every time.

She said “if your scared of ghosts then you’ll hate falling in love.”
It’s like an empty house and you’re the host
but there’s noises coming from above.
Every single door is closed
no matter how persistent you knock,
and you’re left feeling like you’ve imposed
on the person who convinced you to walk.

You can keep repeating it,
until you start believing it,
but my dear, we both know the real deal.
And I’ve been retreating in,
pouring out and bleeding in,
I’m already dead but when will I keel?

Won’t you please be kind,
and please rewind.
Travel back and find,
I’m half deaf but fully blind.
My home’s become the floorboard that creeks,
and my heart’s a vacant gold mine,
months became years but first days became weeks
and I still reply “I’m fine.”
It gets weaker every time.

A star never falls the same twice
and each week the moon has a new face,
I’ve been treading carefully but still slipping on ice,
I thought it was the tortoise that won the race?
And now my heart is booming
and beating straight out of my chest,
cardiac arrest is looming,
it’s been too long since it’s had a rest.

In all my over thinking I’ve never had a wishful thought,
this will be the last time I’ll wait around to see.
In all my over thinking I’ve never been satisfied with what I’ve got,
this will be the last time you can explain it all to me.

So my teeth grind, please be kind and rewind.
Maybe I was blind, please be kind and rewind.
Yes I’ve lost mind, please be kind and rewind.
Made beds to which we’re bind, please be kind and rewind.

If you knew this was your last day on earth,
would you spend it wisely with complete worth?
Honestly I’m scared of what my answer would be,
If I’d wallow in regret or just check out early.

Once you’ve breathed fresh air,
how do you go back to drowning?
In my youth I could never care
but lately I’m always frowning.
I tried to **** every single brain cell,
I no longer wished for feelings of thought,
no one asked so I never got to tell,
all these lingering regrets that I’ve got.
Dawn of the final day.
the sun arrives but will never stay.
Twenty four hours remain,
my death rattle will be in vain.

Long ago I lost hope in salvation,
and my dreams were trampled for belief,
so I dressed it up in mindless intoxication,
oh, how well it decorated my eternal grief.
How do I explain that the reason I’m leaving,
was the same reason that I stayed?
I’m tired of starving and done with dry heaving,
it feels like my internal organs have been flayed,
and put out on display.

Once you feel the sun rise,
how do you return back to the night?
When defeat’s visible in your eyes,
‘cause mind and body are both done with the fight.
I tried to **** every single brain cell,
yet there’s still more than enough left to haunt me,
will they survive the fall out, only time will tell,
I have a feeling one will remain only to keep taunting.
Dawn of the final day,
knees were made for grovelling not to pray.
Twenty four hours remain,
maybe time can fit in some rain.

I’m never happy with what life gives me
though I admit I haven’t been given much.
I feel only coldness in my surroundings,
but have felt warmth from a strangers touch.
Everyday I think “this is the end
I can’t possibly keep on going”
My spine broken before it could bend,
and I was plucked before I started growing.
So drag my corpse to the ocean
‘cause it was always my dream for there to rest,
I’ll die drowning in every emotion,
but only sadness will fill my chest.

Tell me Pluto,
how does it feel
to be told you’re a planet for years
and then labelled as an accessory for our solar system?
But also, to be reassured, that although you’re small,
you’re just as good as the rest,
and endearingly enough,
someone’s favourite planet?

And while you sit on the outskirts,
in the far, vast, pitch black
edges of a far brighter galaxy than you,
do you marvel at the beauty and size
of every other planet judged more
legitimate and important than you,
and do you make friends with the microscopic stars?

You are told you aren’t what you are,
and you are what you aren’t,
I wouldn’t blame you for drifting further,
I think I would probably do the same.
But know some are very passionate
about your state in our galaxy,
many people believe you to be of importance;
whether it’s nostalgia, empathy or just fear of change.
Regardless, you have a small army
of people who are very vocal,
about your right to be alongside with all the other planets.

Just because you’re small
and not as visually appealing as the rest,
or because you’re pushed to the coldest, darkest regions of space, does not make you deserving of isolation.
Infact, it makes you more worthy of adoration.
For you Pluto, for all the hardships
and all the abandonment you have felt,
you have never told another planet they themselves,weren’t real,
and you’ve never drawn anyone close to you,
to suffer in your loneliness.

I’m straining my arms and I’m pulling my shoulders,
from pushing each line and carrying our shared boulders.
And my hands are burned and skin’s scraped,
knuckles cracked and broken fingertips,
a few careless words escaped
and I wished to push them back behind my lips.

I’ve got the motor warm and running,
and the waves have settled as they should,
I write down just how I find you stunning,
I would voice it if I only could.

You ask if I’m confident and I tell you I don’t know,
can I make an impossible jump,
oh holy Holly, I don’t think so.
I’m no Henry, no Fonz, no Winkler,
I’m not a stunt performer on T.V,
I barely run through the sprinkler,
I sure as hell will find death in the sea.

The rope’s as tight as a fresh noose,
and my ski’s barely fit my bottom soles,
my hands are clenched just too loose,
I would prefer to be sleeping on coals.
The crowd’s cheers become a lashing,
blood dissolved into the water and salt,
an angry tail’s now thrashing,
my situation is entirely my own fault.

I’m jumping the shark,
without a trial run.
Leaving an infamous mark,
just before it’s all done.
I’m jumping the shark,
it’s the end to my character arc.
I’m jumping the shark,
desperation has never stood so stark.

I’ve glimpsed shadowed empty sets
and walked among great ruins,
I’m tired of swimming in regrets,
pretty please, can I hide in your flesh wounds?
I’ve been taking theatre classes
to act like I’m not terribly bothered,
but every beach goer casually passes,
my body that’s been brutally slaughtered.

I want to feel the water the way that I once did,
with carefree wonder like when I was a kid.
But I always hated the sand, and the way that it encased my toes,
but they’re calling me to set to stand, to see how this final shot goes.

The hoop is placed ontop of a mild wave,
I wish that they engulfed it first in flame,
they praise me for being so brave
but it’s I, not the shark, that is tame.
They’re calling out the term “action”
and I look for my highlighted script,
I only read a small fraction
before I thought it best to rip.

I’m jumping the shark,
without a trial run.
Leaving an infamous mark,
just before it’s all done.
I’m jumping the shark,
it’s the end to my character arc.
I’m jumping the shark,
cut camera and roll credits in the dark.

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.