I once believed myself alone
because the world did not know me.
I now know I am alone
because I know the world.

I keep my hands busy and my tongue tied,
my head dizzy and hide what's inside.
I roll my eyes back, always bite my lip,
and the room's black, I'm always bound to trip.

I break hearts like I break bread; rarely,
and make promises but just barely.
Sweet words never seem to hit my head,
I know it's absurd but I only hear what's left unsaid.

I loved her, I love her,
she leaves me alone just to watch me suffer.
I made a bet but I've never been a bluffer,
I'm going to lose if I don't get tougher.

I like when band-aids rip off clean and leave no traces of blood,
it's the best relief ever seen, save for the daily drenching flood.
We rip off that plastic sheet and search for forgotten pieces of skin,
that could never make us complete but still covered what was hidden within.

The stars light up the sky,
telling the story of you and I.
I feel like I'm about to die,
but my death rattle is just a sigh.
The rain is my best friend,
or at least that's what I like to pretend.
I feel like it's almost the end,
but it's come full circle after the last bend.

Some recoil at the scars,
some wish to know how you received them.

The first time I walked into my home was when I was five,
My mom and her best friend Louise signed me out of school,
we ate McDonalds on the hardwood floors and looked at the bare walls,
they were actually blank canvas's, waiting for life's pictures to be painted upon them.

When I was eight, my sister and I got into a fistfight,
in our shared room, a mere five feet away from my parents.
They knew it was time for us to have separate rooms,
and they turned an old den into a makeshift room that night,
where my sister would sleep until her teens.

I remember Sunday mornings,
stumbling down the stairs with sleep in my eyes,
and hearing oldies playing on our stereo,
smelling a big breakfast cooking.

I remember Monday mornings,
procrastinating to come downstairs and face the Canadian winter weather,
my mother getting ready for work,
but not before making us toast even though we never had an appetite in the morning.

"Breakfast is the most important meal of the day."

I spent countless days and nights in my first room,
always an introvert, always alone with my imagination.
It went from playing with Star Wars action figures,
to playing guitar, to writing poetry,
and eventually when computers were the big thing,
I spent my teen years playing xbox and downloading music.

Some nights I drank in that room.
Most nights I smoked countless joints and cigarettes.
A few times I even did mushrooms,
paranoid the entire time my mother would open the door and question me,
but usually she was more concerned about the candles I lit to cover the smoke,
100% certain I would light the house aflame.

My sister eventually moved into the basement,
the same one where we would sit on the rough carpets,
far too close to the TV,
playing Legend of Zelda, and Greenday's "******" blaring in my ears.
I'm still half deaf till this day.

I remember falling asleep outside,
rocking back and forth on our cushioned swing,
surrounded by greenery and sun,
bird chirps intermixing with my mp3 player.

I remember my modest above ground pool,
and my sister teaching me how to swim at six,
only taking breaks when she would attempt to drown me.

My sister moved on and I moved into the basement,
and spent an entire weekend painting and making it my home.
Bright green paint with lilac purple,
and posters of Sid Vicious, illuminated by lightsabers.

My mom got sick with Cancer,
and I remember sitting in the living room while she cried,
telling myself she would be ok,
that she would live even against impossible odds.

I remember coming home from overnight shifts at the women's shelter,
lying on the shaggy carpet and watching her with half lidded eyes.
"I'll go to bed soon."

A week before Christmas my mother moved into the old den,
the one my sister moved into when we were so young,
so she'd no longer need to go up the stairs.
The same stairs we used to slide down on with pillows.

I would lay awake in my basement, listening to her footsteps,
the same footsteps that used to wake me up far too early.
Now keeping me awake and on edge,
ready to run up to her in case she needed help.

I remember Christmas morning,
how the walls echoed "she's gone" and "call the doctor."
How my father sat at the living room table, pouring himself drink after drink,
how my sister lay on the couch crying,
and I, trying to make my mother proud, cleaned the house.

I was alone for years,
in a house that wasn't a home,
my mother dead, my sister moved out,
my father taking anything of value to his new home, with his new girlfriend,
a woman who shares the same name with my mother.
But not the same heart.

I stayed in my basement,
getting high and writing poetry,
listening to music so there would be another voice but mine.

The first time my wife walked into my home,
she surveyed the damage done to the house and made it a home again.
A nice mixture of our belongings now mix with my mothers,
keeping her memory alive in every room.

We spent many nights in candlelight, inlove, laughing,
and again the house had life and love in it.

This summer my home will be sold,
and in a matter of months this little 50's house will be destroyed.
Our medium sized lot will make room for two modern buildings,
and the twenty-three years spent here will be demolished.

There is mold in the basement,
the electrical is gone to ****.
The drywall is crumbling, the paint is scratched,
and the plumbing is sketchy at best,
but this home will always stand strong in my heart.

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.

I’m lying beside my girl in bed
I brush my lips against her ear;
“Baby if the world was to end,
there’s nowhere I’d rather be then here.”
Safe and warm as if in a nest
bodies formed like puzzle pieces,
she’s got her head pressed to my chest
heart pounding and it increases.

In my arms; my world and my plans
when you have my heart in your hands.
Always like this, always together
with your kiss of bliss, you’ll be my air forever.

I’ve never been one to greet sunrise
I much prefer the still quiet of night,
but as long as I can look into your eyes
you’ll forever remain my favorite light.
Our laughter combines
and creates a symphony,
a perfect meshing of minds
and souls completed perfectly.

In my arms; all that I ever sought
when you own my words and every thought.
Always like this, always together
with your kiss of bliss, it can’t get better.

In my arms; my world and my plans
when you have my heart in your hands.
Always like this, always together
with your kiss of bliss, you’ll be my air forever.

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.

Broken knuckles on my left hand
and spotty bruises on my right,
I left my brain on the coat stand
night after night.
And I was tongue tied with flushed cheeks
thank god for the absence of light,
and in the patterns of your tear streaks
you stamped my name so I’d be sure to catch sight.

Lying on damp grass that still died,
perched on top; we are the dew.
To resuscitate all life we helplessly tried,
but there wasn’t a single chance, it’s sad but it’s true.

Let go of the character
and slide back to the dancing shadows.
I fought tooth and nail to take care of her,
and still it’s I they trot to the gallows.
I’m clearly not MCauly Caulkin,
but I’ve been left stranded home alone.
No silly robbers are going to walk in,
instead it’s the absence that breaks each bone.

The stars are currently spelling out my regrets
and that is the real reason they are infinite and endless.
Whether lost lives, loves, chances, friends or bets,
I’ve got strong arms and even I’m not sure I could mend this.

You can pick up a brick and throw it through a glass pane,
or you can look for others to make a home.
I’ve been stacking my share without a thought in my brain,
I crave some structure but trapped myself in the dome.

I carelessly ripped out every seam and stitching,
I was assigned batting position but I’ve been aimlessly pitching.
My mind is racing and my hands are twitching,
my emotions are pacing but my pen’s tired of my *******.

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.

I've given myself up, wrapped and chained,
accepting the cards and the blows.
Fought forward, but peacefully restrained,
as simple and calm as resistance goes.
Why is there a loss in a life with no games?
I'll allow you to believe you hold an Ace,
while clutching a jester of your same,
narcissistic grin matches the one on your face.

I had a John Cusack about me,
where I was forever misunderstood
and what no one could ever see,
was my intentions were always good.
I spoke into a tape recorder as if it was my only friend,
"I gave my whole heart to her, and she gave me a ******* pen."

Steal my thought, and hold my heart,
we both have fought since the very start.
Rob me of air and match my soul,
to be there I'd pay any toll.

Well the days just keep on passing,
the months, they have become years,
This love has become everlasting,
it was once my biggest fear.

Live at my side, and meet me in my dream,
the moon might hide, but the stars will gleam.
I'll speak true, but you'll read my mind,
just to see you, I'd go blind.

Well the days just keep on passing,
The months, they have become years,
there's not much that I am asking,
I just want to dry your tears.

From this day on, I'm always yours,
I already was, you know this, of course.
But from this day on, our souls are together,
just promise me, you'll remember forever.

Shape my world, and hold my hand,
I need a girl who will understand,
what I've been through, and will be mine,
'cause for you I'd wait my entire lifetime.

From this day on, I'm always yours,
I already was, you know this, of course.
But from this day on, our souls are together,
just promise me, you'll remember forever.

She covers me like frost when it sets in fresh,
I've been barely breathing since the day she almost left.
I've been at a stand still in quicksand; sinking fast,
I wish I could take a pill to let go of the past.

The blame game, has got it's newest saint,
forever in denial of all mistakes.
The blame game, always takes on my name,
forever in debt for all heartbreaks.

My visible breath spills secrets of another life,
a person you've never met but call your wife.
Brokenhearted and destined to be a knotch on a long, long belt,
Dearly departed with distance and it's the closest you've ever felt.

The blame game, has gained it's newest saint,
forever forgetting the dealt pain.
The blame game, takes on none the same,
forever drowning in the falling rain.

She paints me solid in the blackest of tar,
I fell for all of it but fell down too far.
There is something left but just too small to ever grasp,
I won't be the one to confess, with my dying rasp.

I savour the coffee taste on your tongue and on your lips,
it’s reminiscent of my throat when a word slips, or when each pill drips.
The less and less I sleep,
the more secrets I keep,
whisked away in stolen conversation
but all the thoughts; lost in translation.
Squeeze the trigger, pull the plug,
I now figure you’re just another drug,
I won’t get clean; this time I’ll overdose,
I couldn’t hope to wean when you’re still this close.

So turn up the boiling scalding water,
you know that it’s time to come clean.
Submerge yourself or don’t even bother,
appearance doesn’t matter when you’re never seen.

I was worried I’d be trapped on a different side,
resulting from the bleaching of the darkness that I tried to hide,
covered in a soft pastel portrait of a stranger,
who balanced pleasure and pain with no thoughts of danger.
I admit I’ve written letters before
as a safety net,
at the time it meant more,but you’re still upset.
“I’m cautious while being reckless,
always nauseous but please respect this,
I’ve been done for years,
and now it’s gotten too trite,
my lip quivers from the tears,
where once I just used to bite.”

So get out all of the soaps and the oils,
you know that it’s time to come clean.
Replenish the lukewarm with water that boils,
and continuing scrubbing and lathering inbetween.

They all ask the five W’s and one H,
and expect a definition on abrupt command.
In my bath the purity saturates,
I only find bubbles and water spill from my hand.

It’s hard to describe in written word
the completion that was suddenly felt,
it was my first sight and first sound heard;
a power that could make the galaxies melt.
She threw a blanket statement over me,
but it failed to cover me up whole.
In the corner of her eye all I’ll ever be,
is frozen feet walking out of control.

So let yourself soak until you dissolve,
you know that it’s time to come clean.
It’s within the water we’re bound to evolve,
and if all fails we’ll glisten and gleam.

Many a times I find my mind is static just at best,
my lungs are damaged, and I'm empty in my chest.
The days are lagging, painfully dragging, the time is ticking slow,
then looking at the calendar, I wonder where did this month go?

Nothing to gain but buckets of rain,
and a ton of empty air,
and you could feign to feel some pain,
but the in the end, no one would care.

You're feeling right when you fight,
and you dabble in defense,
and last night you were playing scrabble
but every word lacked sense.
You coat your spleen in nicotine and claim to live just fine,
but you're getting thin, lacking every vitamin,
"you really should get more sunshine."

Nothing to gain but buckets of rain,
and some grass that could be more green,
and you could claim that you're still sane,
but no one knows what that word means.

Many of strangers bring on danger, but most will treat you well,
and with the heat coming from the street,
you'd think I'd be on my way to Hell.
The one you love most is now a ghost,
and you're overcome with dread,
and it's not a faze, we really do praise,
the ones that are now dead.

Nothing to gain but buckets of rain,
and some thoughts that were never there,
and you could feign to feel some pain,
but in the end, no one would care.

The talking heads used to sing a lullaby
now everyone dreads when they even sigh.
Creating static that no hands could hope to block out
hiding in the attic but the sealing’s peeled and so has the grout.

I can’t bear to hear another word
of resentment that is undeserved,
even the slightest breath of air
is a kin to irritation I can’t compare.

The talking heads used to compose magic
but now their frowns illuminate something tragic.
A life that pushes me out of place,
my skin, my heart and soul; a waste.

If you’re questioning what these words mean
while you’re reading them on an LED screen
you’ve yet to experience silence’s bliss,
when you do you’ll see it’s something to miss.
Noise cancellation fails the trial,
cars honk and phones dial,
I remember the sound of just the breeze
of damp grass and brushing knees.

The talking heads trapped in my ear
never seem to want to stop.
Telling me all I don’t want to hear,
I beg and plead but each topic they won’t drop

I can’t bear to hear another word
of resentment that is undeserved,
even the slightest hint of a sigh
is too much of an attempt to pry.

I’m alone stuck in my head
we both lost track of what was said.
Here I write but you haven’t read,
please just come to bed.

Lost in translation starts a fight,
another disappointing night.
Not sure of much but sure we’re right,
come to bed and turn off the light.

Mind’s running laps but in a line,
avoiding barbed wire and land mine.
Determined to stay up to greet sunshine,
come to bed and it will be fine.

I’m alone stuck in my head
an impending sense of doom and dread.
I write in blue but you mark in red,
please just come to bed.

Stemming from an old familiar place
I plead insanity but not my case,
with red tinted sunglasses covering my face,
failing at trying to hide my shame.
With an abundance of up but lacking down
I’ve searched every street within this town,
I’ll rediscover peace but forget my own name.
I really need it, I’ve got to treat it
again.

No one could survive this,
I’ve got no touch like Midas,
and those same demons are at my door,
the one’s who let themselves in before.
No one could survive this,
I’ve got no will to fight it.
Why waste the strength holding it at bay,
when I can mimic that strength another day, even for show.

Step into character and out of skin,
showcase on the nose but I can’t seem to win.
I have no interest in their flashy jackpot prize,
It’s lacking clear blue skies and her warm eyes,
but I’ll shake hands and force another empty grin.
I really need it, but it’s not greed
it’s pretend.

No one could survive this,
blatant weakness but I hide it,
I’m a lone black sheep among the cattle,
even Peter Pan despised his shadow.
No one could survive this,
a DNR with a revive list,
and no one wants to leave but they never stay,
there’s no direction but they continue on their way, where do they go?

Do you really need this,
I’m willing to bleed for bliss
and transcend.
Do you really need this,
how often will you read this
till you wend?
Do you really need this,
or do you just want to believe this
will end?

Told me to close my eyes and count to ten,
I counted down to one and then back up again.
It almost feels like it’s a crime
how blatantly I waste my time,
what does it matter? If it would shatter, it would still be mine.

Nightly I brush my hands against the dark sky,
I know it’s painted with splotched stars but not seen by the eye.
It’s creating ice cold fingers,
and a chill that lingers,
though bold, I was never a fan of cold.

It’s just that I’m trapped in another space,
my time and reality are lacking trace,
I’m right that I’m in the wrong place.
Or maybe we’ve just all been dead for years,
no one wants to add to their fears,
but the thought is turning gears.
It’s plausible, not impossible.

Told me to close my eyes and spin around,
counter and clockwise I whirled until I was on the ground.
I feel too old to play hide and seek,
strong night vision but perception’s weak,
I’m lacking balance, it’s never been in my talents, it’s looking bleak.

It’s just that I’m trapped in another space,
unable to alter my choices in this case,
the isolation and void I just can’t face.
Or maybe I’m just separated from the galaxy,
outcasted from the place I’m meant to be,
stuck in the shoes of an alternate reality Emily.
Growing more deranged, some things don’t change.

The puzzle piece was right but the picture’s wrong,
gifted with a short window but I needed long.
You know there’s no outcome I can see obtaining a win,
and your outsides are mingled with those that are in.

You can’t tell me that I’m clearly right,
I thought I was the only one putting up a fight.
You know we can’t go around in this circle anymore,
and my insides are bruised, swollen and sore.

But I’m not fit to rule, no,
I’m broken in half instead of small pieces.
I beg for each molecule to grow,
but I’m out of contracts and short on leases.
It’s plain to see the impact on me
that naturally you shape the best version I can be,
but I’m not fit to rule, no.

I’ve got strength in supply except where I need it most,
under the impression that I’m hanging on to a ghost.
For once I concur that the best things in life are free,
but my outsides keep my in from escaping.

But I’m not fit to rule, so,
I accept the disappointment with the empty hands.
Another deal that’s a cruel blow,
the hour glass; broken, but there’s no stopping the sands.
It’s plain the see the impact on me,
but I’ll continually suffer in solitary.
But I’m not fit to rule, no.

Keep on running, keep on gunning,
close your eyes and plug your ears.
Keep on running, I’m sure they’re coming,
share the skies but not your fears.

I can no longer paint pictures
my hands are trembling and broken,
even though I arranged directions in the fixtures,
you know there’s much I’ve never truly spoken.
I created a simple scavenger hunt
and drew out a map to my only treasure,
my clues are obvious but clearly not blunt,
but what I have cannot be weighed nor can it be measured.

You should know me well enough
to know there’s nothing you can’t say,
go on and call my bluff,
I’ll remain feeling this way.
Kiss me gently or slap my face
give me breath or finish me,
stay connected or disappear without a trace,
I’ll still love you unconditionally.

I’ve never been one to give a speech;
words have weight and I hate my voice,
but with time and support it’s not impossible to teach
where there’s a will, there’s a way and a choice.
It feels like I’ve made it easy to see
I can’t help it, it’s plain as day,
‘cause even as I’m locked; you’ve got the key,
and your lips can read mine for what I don’t say.

I’ll never forget the smile on your face
when our lips slowly first met,
the skin that my fingers ache to trace,
a face that even death could not make me forget.
Burn my skin and scrub me raw,
or lovingly bathe me in the sea,
you can part the rules and break each law,
but I’ll still love you unconditionally.

I believe you can pull the stars
straight down from the skies,
cause I see past all your scars
and see them twinkle in your eyes.
I know everyone has their role
and everything is a two way street,
but Darling if I’m going to bare my soul,
it’s only fair that you show your feet.

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.

Every waking hour, I’m battling insecurities
they turn my mood sour, and I’m begging anyone to “stomp them please.”
Boiling and ice, so hot then cold,
a mistake now made twice,
I should remember the lessons I’m told.

Please stop feeding me that riffraf
all the way up the *****.
Part of me just wants to laugh
‘cause I’m not sure what else to do.

It’s the little things that compile,
and create the big things,
still work to find a smile
and return back to the swings.
Boiling and ice, scalding to freeze,
a mistake now made thrice,
the right answer’s just a tease.

Please stop feeding me that riffraf
all the way up the *****.
To calm myself I run a candlelit bath,
but the tap is just pouring glue.

We all keep walking with broken legs
and keep carrying on bleeding wounds
Even the proudest person still begs
for life to grow from ruins.
I want to solve the mystery,
travel through time and space,
‘cause this reality is misery,
when I’m not in my rightful place.

Please stop feeding me that riffraf
all the way up the *****.
The ups and downs shown on a graph,
and the statistics are painfully true.
Start by telling me everything,
as I’ve got my own show and tell,
I’ll expose myself to your sting
as long as you promise to make my heart swell.

People will spend years of their lives
reassuring you they care about you.
Instead of just spending one moment
showing you and proving it.

When I was young I was invincible,
a spirit of fire but feet like ice.
Now I continue to breathe cause I believe in principle,
but jumped in the darkness and never thought twice.

I'll take full responsibility,
I chose my path out of pleasure.
I'll follow until it kills me,
I'll take any given measure.

For the sins I'll bleed, I acted out of greed,
stole away from the poor and gave to those who didn't need any more.
For the sins I'll bleed, planted a poison seed,
I never thought differently, a disaster symphony.

My past self would be let down by the me of today,
presently I regret my past self in every way.
Now the girl who speaks in the mirror, I can barely hear her,
But I know I fear her and whatever she has to say.

I'll take full responsibility,
I chose my path out of pleasure.
I'll follow until it kills me,
I know it will lead me to treasure.

For the sins I'll bleed, I acted out of greed,
I dug myself into a hole just to only sell my soul.
For the sins I'll bleed, believed it to be a need,
I never thought differently, a disaster symphony.

When you play the game of life,
there's many things you have to choose.
But a lesson you must carry in strife,
is if you help other's win, then you're bound to lose.

The thing about human rights is
that they are essential,
they are intangible.
They cannot be bought,
they must be fought for.
Most importantly,
they cannot be weighed,
they cannot be passed back and forth,
and they cannot be ranked.
No one, technically,
owns a monopoly on human rights.
You cannot take one of mine away
because you decided to expand
evolve and magnify,
your own.

So while I would never wish to
hurt anyone’s feelings,
a person should not be censored
from having opinions and thoughts.
I probably won’t share them with you anyway.
Cause while you have the right to be offended by something,
someone else has just as much of a right to offend you.

We can hold friendly debates
and discussions,
but personally I’d rather not ruin
interactions with clashing ideals.
It won’t accomplish anything.
Everyone should be able to do what they wish- as long as it doesn’t hurt someone.
Physically and mentally, that is,
because a human right cannot be
made void because of feelings.
You see, everyone has feelings,
ideals, morals, standards, expectations...
and everyone is different.
My life will not be completely altered and restricted,
for you to have more privilege than anyone else.
What and how you say something
is just usually based on levels of
intelligence, learned behaviour,
manners and common sense.
Some people, unfortunately,
just can’t be helped in that aspect
and will give you their opinion
blatantly oblivious to your perspective, no matter what.
But both parties are guilty of that.

If you don’t like what you’re seeing
hint: don’t watch, don’t read.
If you don’t like what you’re hearing
hint: don’t listen, or ignore it.
Spend less time getting offended
and placing your personal feelings
on a pedestal,
and more time living your life.
Believe me, we’ll all be happier that way.

When the darkness comes
and I unravel, undone,
I know only you will get me.
When I’m fully consumed
and swearing I’m doomed
I’m sure you’ll wish you never met me.

How can you give a ****
if you don’t know who I am
and all the stories that are my building blocks.
Take the time to cram,
assign roles of lion and lamb,
but apparently it’s a wolf now in these talks.

And the pictures were colour
yet all the same they seem black and white,
maybe they faded as they sure seem duller,
or maybe there’s just not enough light.

Everyone pulls away, I sadly know the drill,
it’s impossible to stay, or even just stay still.
Throwing punches and slanging slurs,
tell me is it impossible to draw a line?
I gave her a heart but she never gave hers,
I’m surprised she even wanted mine.

I’m stupid enough to keep my word
and foolish enough to keep a promise.
Dissecting and analyzing the absurd,
intelligence is the mortal enemy to total bliss.

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.

Within the darkest corners of the night,
the void is residence but home is light.
A silver platter offered with every bit of me,
you already have it, just sprinkle vulnerability.

And your forever stamped in the back of my mind,
in the front and each corner I find,
to all others; I am blind.
One another; intertwined.
Exact fit and stars aligned.

I’m biting the dust to prevent a shade of grey,
inbetween the silent words to say,
risks and rewards now washed away.
Toss the dirt to the hole we lay.
Another night, another day.

The horizon that matches your shape,
in the sheets I carefully drape,
you see barriers and I see cape,
eyes are fixed and mouth agape.
Marked off scene and caution tape.

I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again,
written in cursive with coloured pen;
what is broken I can mend,
what you need I can always lend.
But time’s never been my friend.

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.

Someone broke me into two,
gave my other half to you,
and I never asked for a reason.
Our connection is wave and tide,
it can save or it can hide,
but it's there through every season.

The warmth emitting from the soul,
can swallow all or leave a hole.
Do you hear the same notes that I do?
The frequency beating from my heart
leads me to you when we're apart,
'cause I'll always come back for you.

Someone broke me in two,
gave my other half to you,
and I could never complain.
Our bond is cemented eternal,
it heats me like an inferno,
and it burns through snow and rain.

The beats coming from my chest,
will never be put to rest,
as it'll beat in sync with your own.
The words might not always come easily,
as if I've never been one to speak freely,
I would rather it come from the actions that I've shown.

Someone broke me into two,
gave my other half to you,
and I never felt they were wrong to do so.
I couldn't be owned any more,
you're in my veins and in every pore,
you're in my head and at my side everywhere that I go.

To prevent detrimental love I will become more maligned,
and with each "I" the dotted heart seems more defined.
"Fate vs choice" was the topic when you questioned me,
and my reply was that I believed in the coincidence of destiny.

Speaking in code, chanting in tongues,
a heavy load; it drains my lungs.
Tell me a secret, 'cause I'll never tell,
I'll never leak it and I'll never sell.

Stumbling while still, my feet are not mine,
you've had your fill but I'll have another line.
Tell me a secret, 'cause I'll never tell,
I'll always keep it even when burning in Hell.

My blank pages are your swirling oceans,
I've been moving through stages
and drowning in emotions.
Breaking all the promises
like you're breaking out of chains,
when you've had nothing; there's nothing to miss,
only the void ever remains.

Ripping at my skin, it's not an itch but scratching frustration,
and my day wants to begin but I've lost all motivation.
Tell me a secret, 'cause you know I'll never tell,
even when I'm defeated, even when I have fell.

My silent replies are your swirling oceans,
I've got the hollow eyes, from going through life's motions.
Breaking all the promises
like we've been breaking bread,
and I only saw a glimpse of bliss
from those few words that were said.

Staring at a broken phone,
there's no contacts, I'm so alone.
A broken heart is not a broken bone.

Staring at a broken phone,
there's only silence, I miss that dial tone.
A broken heart is not a broken bone.

Come waltz between my ears
they’re more sensitive than they seem,
slip and step between the gears,
that are working so hard they cause steam.
For someone who never stops thinking,
there’s still far too many unknowns,
but just like breathing or blinking
I love you down to the bones.

Stay standing behind my eyes,
perfection radiant in my mind,
toss away all of the starry skies,
I might as well become blind.
Say that I’m “one in a million”
there’s doppelgängers and there’s clones,
but you’re one in seven point seven billion,
and I love you down to the bones.

I’ll be red and you’ll be blue,
let’s mix together; create a colour new,
maybe some type of violet hue,
and speckle the world with our dew.

Put up posters of our memories
on every single pole and wall,
caress me with the summer breeze,
and give me the final warmth at fall.
Nothing could ever fill the hole,
not seven kingdoms and no thrones.
Just embrace me through the soul
‘cause I love you down to the bones.

You’ll be day and I’ll be night,
two passing ships still stay in sight,
the tide will pull but we’ll remain tight,
we’ve become accustomed to this fight.

Come carry me back home,
I’m already there if you are too,
though you think that I stray and roam,
darling I never even tied a shoe.
We’re meant to be compiled together,
but I made myself out of sticks and stones,
but I promise you that forever,
I’ll love you down to the bones.

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.

Please don't you bring me down,
I don't remember when I last saw the sun.
Maybe five years ago or around,
or maybe it's only just been one.
Please don't you bring me down,
we both know I'm capable of that myself.
My smile has always been a frown,
no matter how happy I've ever felt.

I've been facing a head on collision,
with every choice and with every decision.
Chain smoking until my lungs turn black,
I'm sporting a death rattle with each wheeze and crack.
Oh how I am so lost,
I paid the price life cost.

Please don't you bring me down,
I'm living only under night skies.
Memorizing the one horse in this town,
it's been years since it last won a prize.
Please don't you bring me down,
I have no issue getting there on my own,
I've made myself a home within the ground,
the insects feed on me until the bone.

I've been facing a head on collision,
with every slice and each incision.
Chain smoking until I've lost my voice,
I cannot complain nor can I rejoice.
Oh, how I am so lost,
I leapt over the line I should never have crossed.

White doors in a white room that's stained,
white floors and yet the gloom remained.
Documented all my crimes,
only ten seconds clipped to advertise.
Shaking but not because the cold,
faking youth while feeling old.
I'm running out of things to say,
it's sunny but the clouds are always grey.

I've been facing a head on collision,
with every spark of ambition.
Chain smoking until I've reached my death,
or until there's no cigarettes left.
Oh, how I am so lost,
I've been cherished and I've been tossed.

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

Falling down like a rain drop
twenty-twenty but I’m blind.
Knowing that this must stop,
maybe tomorrow I’ll change my mind.

But maybe the fog has made me hazy,
no one will choose to save me,
write me off as crazy,
their judgements come too hasty.
Red flags planted to trace me
to the spot where I’ve been wasting
no help to do it myself,
I guess I’ve gotten lazy.
I vow to not continue with the crime,
maybe tomorrow or another time.

Tumbling around like dry leaves,
amazed by the colours you find.
Trading dry mouth for dry heaves,
maybe tomorrow I’ll change my mind.

Take notice that life as a poetess
feels kind of hopeless,
and as a bonus I’m under hypnosis.
I’ve been focused on picking myosotis
for my magnum opus,
better than roses
but less than autumn crocus.
I’ll watch them bloom in their prime,
maybe tomorrow or another time.

Lying on the ground as the concrete,
don’t mind the chalk as I’m outlined.
I think it’s due I get back on my feet,
maybe tomorrow I’ll change my mind.

Playing the hardwood like a keyboard;
fingertips and nails tapping rhythmically.
I tied the tie but you pulled the cord,
letting the knot come undone; swinging freely.
I didn’t deserve your invisible cold shoulder,
I didn’t deserve the weight of your blame,
maybe you’ll realize in the future when you’re older,
something tells me you’ll never change, you’ll remain the same.

And you’ll be jumping from decision to decision
without knowing your landing spot,
and if it all goes as I envision,
you’re gonna need all the sympathy the world has got.
Because you never learn from a mistake,
and respect and empathy you surely lack,
as you leave destruction in your wake with every heart you break,
and you can’t even be bothered to turn around and look back.

You don’t question the motives of the words in your ears,
convinced you’re making your own decisions while being directed.
I didn’t realize you became 2008 Britney Spears,
this acceptance of no responsibility is more than I ever expected.
You always were a bad liar,
overcompensating for the lack of a single fact,
but in two or six years you didn’t tire,
did you take lessons from my girl Meryl in how to act?

They say to base a person
on not their words but their action,
and not to judge someone when they’re at their worst,
you complain of conflict while also causing the traction,
and keep applying the pressure; all has potential to burst.
You watched me shovel and dig a grave,
convincing me the whole time it was a life for two.
I worshipped you willingly as your devoted slave,
and I guess I was just gum stuck to your shoe.

I want to slander your name
but then I’d have to speak it,
instead I passed back the blame
this time for good you can keep it.

My head in my bed doesn’t work quite right
I’m awake until I break, day and night.
With the voices and the choices that I wish to expel
and the deepest of the secrets I could never tell.

My brain; a stain inside my prisoned skull,
I sharpen it, spear from stick, but it’s too dull.
With the facts free, how they trap me, but I never tried to run away,
my feet sore, a path I’ve taken before, but could never stay.

The ivory teeth chomping away at my sleep,
in vain I try to get high, but I’m just too deep.
With the last of my past that I try to forget,
so I reprise a sunrise but it becomes a sunset.

My head in my bed doesn’t work quite right
what will it take for me to break and appreciate the light?
I rejoice in the choices that I can’t repel,
and the cheapest of the secrets of how I fell.

I was never one for holidays from the start,
naturally I'm almost always depressed,
but tis was the season when life broke my heart,
and gifted me three years of feeling stressed.
Life became dark even with every coloured light,
every tree withered until they became dry,
the old Yuletide songs became cliche and trite,
I replaced each note with a tired sigh.

We couldn't deck all of the halls,
infact neither of us could even stand,
while the normal people were crowding the malls,
I was watching the clock's moving hand.
Santa never received a list from me,
I was too busy writing a final farewell,
I wasn't judged nice or naughty,
no destination towards heaven or hell.

Seven years of bad luck,
It's been seven years of dread.
Seven years since my comfort was struck,
it's been seven years since they pronounced you dead.
The winters have gotten longer,
the summers are never even there,
I'm weaker instead of stronger,
I'm fading and refusing care.

Our carol's weren't sung they were quietly spoken,
you know our festivities were just kind of a drag,
'cause that Christmas not a single present was opened,
Instead we closed up a body bag.
I watched them wheel you out the front door,
no reindeer were trotting on our roof,
I lay sobbing on our cold hard floor,
no Santa, no God, and I now had proof.

Seven years of bad luck,
It's been seven years of dread.
Seven years that image has been stuck,
reliving it inside my head.
The winters have gotten colder,
and summer has lost it's length.
I may be seven years older,
but it seems I've lost all my strength.

I still can't decorate a tree,
and saying "Merry Christmas" cuts me like a knife.
Atleast I'll always have my memory,
and you're with me with every kindness I show in my life.

For those who need to hear it.
Life is not easy. It's never easy, actually.

And when it rains, it truly does pour.

Sometimes you feel as if you are drowning,
or that you're surrounded by literal ****.

Then it rains, and it pours, and the **** is soaking wet.
But, it's up to you with what to do with that ****.

You can either step in it and complain in disgust...
or you can grab a shovel, a rake, maybe some seeds,
and maybe, just maybe,
you can it turn the **** into something beautiful.

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.

No matter how many times
I burn my hand upon the stove,
I can’t help but be completely entranced by it’s radiant and beautiful glow.
And oh god, how I need the heat it emits so effortlessly.
While I gaze at it longingly,
wishing to graze my fingers upon
it gently,
I was never strong enough to not get burned.

Our connection coincides with the moon,
and I know that sounds completely insane.
But in one stage you're there to make me swoon,
and the next change to cause me pain.
When the moon decides she is full,
and can not grow another inch,
we both feel this undeniable pull,
yet from gentle hands we still flinch.

Our connection coincides with the moon,
and I know it sounds completely mad.
You show up just to leave me in ruin,
but it's not always all that bad.
The moon gives the sky some light,
and you feed my heart some lies,
but Darling the moon doesn't shine half as bright,
as your warm and beautiful eyes.

Our connection coincides with the moon,
and I sense you know it too.
Cause even though our words are always skewed,
deep down I'm bound to you.
When the moon decides it's time for her to leave,
and the sky turns solid black,
You follow her and I'm left to grieve,
but I know you'll always come back.

I’m getting greys
at an alarming rate,
I already pulled at my hair.
“It’s normal” he says
I swear just to debate,
cause he doesn’t seem to care.

And I’m bleeding through
my scar tissued skin,
the layers only grew
still I find a way in.

I’m getting greys
at an alarming rate,
I’ll be down to the last strand.
Check or fold the plays,
the cards aren’t that great
I’ll be down the my last hand.

And I’m bleeding through
my thick nice sweater.
It’s a shame as it’s new
and we’re reaching the cold weather.
It will stain the soft fabric
I may just grab the bleach,
but I always made it a habit
to always keep it just out of reach.

I’m getting greys
at an alarming rate
pretty soon I’ll be bald.
On hot coals she stays,
though she shifts her weight
and watches her soles scald.

And I’m bleeding through
my clogged and blocked pores,
and the remaining few
are becoming septic sores.
I’ll shed another layer
of a non-protective bubble,
and my hair will continue to get greyer,
I think I’m now in some trouble.

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.