I wish to love you like no one in this world has,
I'll give you the sun, the moon,
the trees, the leafs,
and the greenest grass.

Tonight, is just a normal night,
living in fright, fighting for my life.
Tonight, yes, and the stars are shining bright,
caressing the moon but cutting like a knife.
And the demons passed by my door, colours of black and red,
crawling on the floor and ripping up my bed,
whispering sweet nothings of silence through my ear to my head,
calling out for violence, replacing love with bloodshed,
telling me I don't need breath but poison instead.

Tonight, tonight, keep on your light,
Darling you're the only pretty thing in sight,
and you say I'm accomplished, but we know only in plight.
So. Where. Should. I. Go?
Just know, without you, the wind will never again blow.
Just know, without you, the stars will never glow.
Not tonight.

"No," said you to I, while I was cursing at the sky,
energy running low, but emotion flying high.
"Don't go" said I to you, watching colours change hue,
black and red to blue.
That's what love will do.

Ask lone questions that were made for a King,
one who was born mute, blind and deaf.
He'll express the most breathtaking things,
only coming from this final breath.

The Canal is frozen solid,
near by my car tempts fate with races.
In my last goodbye each "I" is dotted,
with broken hearts and sad faces.
It reads; "I'm never going to leave you,
my ghost can float along in your life.
While each moving noise will deceive you,
and I'll be bound to you as if your wife."

So you tore me up like an old receipt,
just another object you don't wish to keep,
but you can't return as I did not sell,
I should've seen down payment before I fell.
Do I even know you? I'd like to believe I once did,
A conclusion I drew, and from the beauty you hid.
It's more painful for me to ask,  than for you to have to hear,
I guess you switch up your new mask, at the start of each new year.

I feel so hollow inside my torn up chest,
to the point where I'm not sure which side my heart does rest.
Left or right, I just can't decide,
and it calls out silently, but the beats seem to hide.
For I still grasp at my clothes, I wish to forcefully pull each thread,
as the inner turmoil impose, on my already swollen head.
That is now flooding this page, an explanation to your fully aware mind,
I'm just past that blissful stage, that we could never really find.

In that moment it had occurred to me that for my entire life I had been breathing in a toxic, poisonous gas.

One that had been draining my life and destroying my soul.

The first word she spoke, the first smile that I witnessed grace her lips; that was fresh air.

She was oxygen.

I may not have much. I may not be worth anything of value.

But she owns every ounce of my soul.
Every thought in my head.
She owns my entire heart,
and hopefully, every second of my future.

In this rule book I carry till the day I die,
first lesson is; you have to learn to lie,
and cover those wounds with a wistful sigh,
'cause penguins wouldn't be loved the same if they could fly.

Her name is Mercy and she says it like a joke,
she shows up when you're thirsty just to watch you choke.
Yes, her name is Mercy and she seems almost like a star,
but she just wants to hurt me, she just lives to be a scar.

Her name is Mercy and she claims to be a saint,
she pushes just to see if you'll ever voice complaint.
Yes, her name is Mercy and it's the most beautiful sound,
and what she claims to be is never truly found.

Her name is Mercy and she's stunning in your eyes,
but you always know the worst will be what she claims is a surprise.
Yes, her name is Mercy and she lights up your life,
her eyes are flirty, but her words are a knife.

I was trying to show that I'm not like rest,
but I think I only succeeded in boring you to death,
As I can see the lint from you picking at your pockets,
And the burn marks on the same fingertips from sticking them in sockets.

The world, don't you see it?
You should glance, as it's bound to end.
Don't stand, you really should sit,
it's the only way your knees turn to bend.
High aggression with loose remorse,
who starts a riot in such a heavenly place?
In a doctor's office, walks in a horse,
and the physician only says "why the long face?"

Take me to the graveyard,
and lie me on the ground.
I'm playing the "one day..." card,
as it's the only one I've found.
Maybe this translucent simplicity,
has made everyone so sick of me.
But I don't talk back, for I've silenced my lips.
So dry they bleed and crack, but so wet my thoughts still slip.

Everyone keeps their movement going,
they don't lose step with the rising flame.
Their masks are slipping to start showing,
underneath they are dull and tame.
The problems line up to play "Red Rover,"
I'm feeling weak, I know I'm going to lose.
But I never hear them yell "come on over,"
which is a relief as I'm too tired to tie my shoes.

Take me to the graveyard,
and lie me on the ground.
Just leave me and disregard,
my final word's dying sound.
Maybe this translucent simplicity,
has forced the world to finally see,
what no one will admit, the drying paper on the line.
Accusations that don't acquit, just blank navigational signs.

"To be Continued..."
It always sounds so great,
but the original was skewed,
so the sequel relies on fate.

Take me to the graveyard,
and lie my body on the ground.
Walking away won't be hard,
my corpse turns to dust, pound by pound.

How many people have to die for your "personal growth?"
For your "well being," or your "revelation?"
You accepted the burdens when you swore your oath;
the pledge, the vow, of your own creation.
A beautiful tornado that wipes the ground clean,
destroys all stable structures in it's path.
A breathtaking painting depicting a deadly scene,
this is unrequited dedication's true wrath.

Back and forth, side to side,
this is a gorgeous question mark.
South and North, turning tide,
this is the light that leads to the dark.

How many people have to die for your "personal growth?"
For your "Eureka!" For your "I got it!"
A question and an answer; you are missing both,
the obvious is present, but you've always fought it.
A gentle hurricane that cracks the Earth,
that shakes wildly and tears the skin.
A stock that's crashing with impeccable worth,
this is unrequited dedication's identical twin.

Back and forth, up and down,
this is a gorgeous question mark.
South and North, sky and ground,
this is the light that leads to the dark.

So this is what it's all about,
"ego," and "control?"
Constant rain, but daily drought,
falling while on a roll.
Pockets are closely holding your hands,
but the strangling does succeed.
Lungs of water, body buried in sand,
it absorbs all my heart does bleed.
I'm one more body to the pile that's left,
no one shakes their head or ever looks behind.
Thoughtlessly giving and innocent theft,
this is unrequited dedication's version of kind.

Here we all fly separate, under a sky of blue,
I would say goodbye but I'll cave to "toodle-*******-oo."

The sunrise greets the morning dew,
to paint the sky with a vibrant hue.
The last night has passed and a new days has come,
advertised perfectly by a morning’s sun.
Alarm clock birds hold no button to “snooze,”
nothing left from yesterday, so now nothing left to lose.
Go hesitantly wipe the sleep from your eyes,
and politely greet the oncoming sunrise.

The blissful sunset that once held the night,
sped off within our starry eyes so fast.
The brilliant, blinding, shining light,
tragically drifted off, lost in the past.
It separates the long days from the glorious dreams,
and divides them into hostile, opposing teams.
A sunrise and it’s rays can always carry hope,
that maybe one day it’s possible to move on.
Either surprise fairy tale, or tasteless joke,
maybe my sense of humour is just somewhat wrong.

So remember to always bless a sunrise,
but never, ever more than a sunset.
Both light up the passing, fading skies,
that cover our shaking regret.
At night, we all strive only to peacefully sleep,
to **** the hours before the sun makes horizon’s leap.

Empathy is just not meant to be, it needs to fall of the track,
and so do I, as empathetic is me, so much strength that I lack.
Soft and secure, I will never make it out alive,
warm and protective; time wasted to revive,
no one will save me, no one will even try,
and that's why I drift in the pitch black sky.

Make up your mind, 'cause I really hate the bounce,
and to everyone I'm blind but I see what really counts;
if no one can get to me, I'm sure to finally breathe,
as everyone is set to flee and I just watch them leave.
Regrets and memory.

Who the Hell said you were the boss?
I counted every win but was outweighed by loss.
Basing my whole life on a god ****** coin toss.
Fell down to the grass and buried by moss.
Heart stopped suddenly, I never saw my wound bleed,
but it was all it took and it was all it would need.
Regrets and memory.

Good to know you, but I'm
Over and
Out.
Done being left in the cold only to be
Braving a drought.
Yes, I'm here, let's clear the doubt, the story has
Ended, and I'm not sure what it's about.

I fear I am just wasting time
making sure the stars don't realign,
my tender words acted through arm-less
mime
and a foreign language on every sign.
Always searching even though we're blind,
I don't know what we hope to find.

Let the water run till overflow, it seeps to the floor,
so you can master tiny oceans that trickle past the door.
In the next hour you will find it has turned to ice,
freezing a perfect moment you wish you could live twice.

Feel the silence drop into comfort, along with all stale stares,
thrown up in catastrophic unison along with worries and with cares.
Hack away the impending distance, so subtle how it does slice,
thrashing out at unclaimed ghosts, only hoping to entice.

The brushstrokes don't do justice, when painting a blue sky,
and my words of ink could never penetrate the walls of a sigh,
shaking and trembling, I fall to my knees,
scared of all the "wants" and terrified of all the "needs,"
weighing selflessness while still considering greed.

As I choose you over air, I choose you over trees.
I choose you over mountains, I choose you over seas.
I choose you over darkness, I choose you over dreams.

Watching clouds, they all look the same;
rough edges but the corner's are tame,
and there's no sun awake for me to greet,
I've got a cold soul and even colder feet.

Dark whispers go to lick my ears,
the shadows that have followed me for years,
they keep me company when I'm alone,
multiplying in size for every inch I've grown.
With every weakness I've shown.

Loving you is like breathing;
it's natural, and instinct.
I do it every second of every day.
Without it I would die.

And being near you is like being under sunshine;
it's warm, it's bright,
it's beautiful and positive.
It causes everything to grow.

Listening to you is like hearing for the first time;
maybe like an orchestra,
where all different sounds intertwine to create a symphony.
Maybe a story, the description of a new novel,
and it's always bound to be your favourite.

Looking at you is akin to the first glimpse of sunlight during the rise,
and being mesmerized by the stars, all at the same time.
Such beauty could never be properly defined,
but I've found myself breathless in a trance when infront of you,
like looking at a piece of priceless artwork
that you're afraid to touch,
because no perfection should ever be brushed by human hands.

This is the realest I've ever felt, each day it intensifies,
for you cause my heart to melt; my body heat is on the rise.
Even if we're close you're still too far, but at least we live under the same skies,
and Darling I've heard even the stars are envious of your bright eyes.

You own each beat in my chest, every thought within my head,
you own ever single breath and without air we are dead.
Completely I am yours, there is only you in my sight,
the skin down to the pores, you are the day to my night.

So only with love I'll try to give you all you ever need,
and I would rather die before I'd ever watch you bleed.
While for now, in fleeting view, my heart's roads always lead to Rome,
and finally meeting you was just like coming home.

You are truly a work of art; you're more than I ever dreamed of,
you hold my entire heart, I have never been so in love,
and you may think I'm silly that I'd stay up to watch you sleep
but Darling you would too, if you saw what I easily see.

If I could do it all, know that I would,
but I can't, and I'm not sure what to even do,
but I've figured out that you can't be misunderstood,
if everyone knows they can't understand you.

I named her Christ,
as it was only when I met her that I realized I had been dead for all my years,
and she resurrected me with a single touch.

She turned my water into wine,
as I was constantly intoxicated just knowing she lived,
and all words came out like slurred gibberish.

She built a solid foundation and home,
solely with her bare hands,
and sheltered me from every element.

Her hands healed every scar and wound,
leaving warmth where there had been cold,
and soft silk where there once was rock.

I'm sure she was born from the brightest star,
shining down from the Heavens,
lighting the way to eternal nirvana and pure bliss.

I named her Christ,
as she walked effortlessly on water,
and I prayed it would be forever in my direction.

There's always two directions and no one knows the best course,
for my simple and small affections never smudge out my remorse,
And with all four seasons, I only ever see my love grow,
as the heart has it's reasons, reason itself does not know.

I was living in a sunset, counting seconds until the next rise,
but I always fail to forget how the glare stings my eyes.
Coated now with a harsh wind's blow, just one of the four seasons to flaunt,
it's true that only the heart can know what it is that the heart wants.

I see the trees; changing colour with slow seconds in between,
I'll be what's needed of me; yellow, brown, red or green.

They tell me the days will only get longer;
I'm unsure as to if that's good or bad.
"The sun's rays will just hit you stronger,
and your farmer's tan will show up plaid."
And with all four seasons, time moves both fast and slow,
as the heart has it's reasons, reason itself does not know.

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.