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’m breaking down along with our economy
and all around they only want more from me.
The end of my rope but I’ve been tethering,
searching out hope but it’s straining and weathering.
Who cares? There’s nothing good to find,
the never ending stairs within my mind,
I’ve kept going, without knowing,
and there’s no result showing.

If you ask me what I’ve wanted the most,
it’s to destroy this parasite; I’m not much of a host.
I’m just waiting, debating
and operating almost like a robot.
I walk alone, I have no home.

I think I’ll crash if I continue going at this rate,
or maybe just break down; it’s still up for debate.
It seems like everyone in the world is ******* me
except for the select few who I wouldn’t mind *******.
Wouldn’t it be exciting for our system to start igniting?
But you know we’d foot the bill
‘cause we’re paying them still.
They crave our money and vote but don’t care to hear us speak,
so my sincerest thanks for letting me work to barely eat.

If you ask me what I’ve wanted the most,
it’s to have an outside life; this routine’s made me a ghost.
It’s been draining, to be maintaining
this training to become a robot.

If you were to ask what our Country needed the most,
it’s lower taxes and more production from East to West coast.
We’re all slaving, and behaving
for laboursaving just like a robot.
I’m not alone, I notice each clone.

An anchor weighs upon my chest
applying pressure above my left breast,
crushing it down to create a concave,
I wave off EMT, there’s nothing left to save.
It was only hope that I’d keep going,
but I truly see no reason why,
I was cursed with the gift of knowing
I could only expect to just get by.
I think I’d rather die.

With a voice just like a symphony
and your hands were my favourite vice,
the gentle way that they held onto me,
thank god your body made them twice.
It was only hope to keep the memory,
as that’s the reason why,
I can look back at the past tenderly,
but sometimes I wish it was a lie.
Maybe it’s just the view of my eye.

Arms like home and lips like heaven
I found a shooting star at eleven-eleven.
But I stopped wishing.
Distanced by the strong will of the walls,
I see you in the streets, pubs and shopping malls.
But I stopped wishing, keep on fishing till life calls.

In a way you did assist
though you do not know it,
as happiness; it killed the poet.
It was only hope that I’d keep growing,
but I can see no reason why,
as soon the clouds will be snowing
when I crave the rain from the sky.
I will settle for the wind that’s blowing
to cover up my disappointed sigh,
if I must be cold I guess it’s best I’m dry.

Now I don’t know what you want from me
or even what you are expecting,
as I don’t know if I’m good enough to deliver
‘cause where I feel a stab I only portray a sliver.
It was only hope that I’d keep flowing
and I’d find a reason why,
the ancient embers continue glowing,
the flames will return and be twice as high.
Making me a firefly.

I'm going to excersize my voice,
and spill to you some hard truth,
to tell whoever reads you have a choice,
in shaping tomorrow's youth.
With a tragedy flashing on a TV screen,
telling you how to think and feel,
you should ask yourself what does it all mean,
and question if what you hear is real.

False flag operations have been suggested
and got a green light many years ago.
There's been a few that have been successfully tested,
then broadcasted and produced like a giant show.
I'm not saying school shootings don't happen,
but please look between the lines,
they've now released the cracken,
and we've missed the warning signs.

It's not video games, television or Hollywood,
that take the blame in a violent crime
I've played call of duty and love entertainment when it's good,
and I'd never take a life, I'd rather give mine.
It is true the access to guns are too easy,
for those who believe it is the only way,
but they need help, believe me,
and treatment is a big price to pay.

If you wish to throw away every gun,
then throw away cars, gasoline and knives,
because when someone has come undone,
you can use all three to take seventeen lives.

No child, criminal or soul with malicious intent,
should be able to stroll into a store and say "that one will do fine"
But they're ringing up the price and the money spent,
is just enough to blur each single line.
But what about if and when the time comes,
those in power decide rations are too low,
and they'll grab you and chain you, no matter where you're from,
and decide it's time for you to go?

An armed ninety-nine percent,
is more a threat to them than terror,
so they use tragedy to receive consent,
to fix the constitution's error.
Where it states you have a right to protect yourself,
no matter who it is that knocks on your door,
'cause that knock will come and you'll look for help,
but there won't be help there anymore.

They only want weapons in their own hand,
and we'll be left completely defenseless,
it's common logic so please understand,
you don't want to get caught completely senseless.

Take their paycheques and put it into mental health,
for those kids who think this is the only way,
so they can be taught ways to cope instead of a politician's wealth,
because it will keep happening until they get their day.

I mourn for those who lost those they love,
but don't let emotion override logic.
We all want to fly a flag of a peace dove,
but there'll still be a bullet and you can't dodge it.

The media doesn't run stories for over a week,
unless it's something they really want you to hear.
And they plan the next one to advertise as we speak,
and the tag line will alway be fear.

Do not waste one of the best gifts we received,
a human's ability to question every action.
Look beyond the way it is perceived,
and research history and every faction.
If it's someone's job to prioritize our rights,
don't you think they might have a control issue?
That maybe they don't want a herd that fights,
and instead of a weapon holds a tissue?

We watched stars shine bright, searching for any that shot,
and we witnessed none that night so we wished on the ones we got.
I confessed with a laugh that if my brain was split in two,
they could observe each half and each stem would lead to you.

We stood in dark parking lots, feet treading on glass long broken,
my head was drowning in thoughts; every one unspoken.
I stumbled on a confession each and every single time,
that you were a drug and an obsession; a favourite of mine.

And she talks to me in dreams,
whispering words of true love.
It tells of beautiful melodic themes,
a voice that comes from above.
Two souls forever bound, two bodies wrapped in sheets,
listening to the sound of our joined heartbeats.

We laughed together in dim light to jokes only we would get,
and you were the only thing in sight, my sunrise and my sunset.
I traced the outlines of your form, with both hands and my eyes,
and together we'll keep warm; arms on shoulders, legs on thighs.

And she kisses me awake,
her lips greet me like the sun.
But my dream world doesn't break,
'cause her presence tends to stun.
I have finally been found, once I was lost in the dark streets,
now we're listening to the sound of our joined heartbeats.

Caress my skin and whisper my name in my ear,
I'll let your voice in 'cause it's all I want to hear.
Fingertips can scratch, but now they feel so smooth,
the last mark I didn't catch but now I think I got the groove.
Candlelight will show me all I need to see,
and my hands will guide to where they need to be.
Our voices mesh into one, our souls and mind link,
and our hearts beat together; perfectly in sync.

And she blows air into my chest,
giving me oxygen to breathe.
With her hand resting upon my breast,
I promise her that I'll never leave.
Side by side on the ground, same song just repeats,
and we're listening to the sound of our joined heartbeats.

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 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.

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.

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.

They found two versions of me
both with open eyes and closed doors,
one bobbing and floating in the sea,
the other lying on the shores.
They opened me up and found nothing inside,
those vital parts were something I felt I had to hide.

Do you feel the distance
clawing at the stone walls?
It’s discovered in an instance,
disguised in laughs and cat calls.
Swallow whispers and bite your tongue,
don’t think to speak against her,
holding hands that once were wrung,
unsure of what chains you prefer.

I never lived very much,
and now it’s time to start dying.
I go to reach for your touch,
once gentle is now painfully prying.
I always believed that one day
you’d see that small last percent of me,
but you dragged that ninety-nine majority away,
the final piece you never truly cared to see.

So close your beautiful eyes,
block and plug your adorable ears,
avoid rightfully owed real goodbyes,
and ignore the reality of your fears.
You suffered, and I suffered,
but atleast we stood through together.
Life gets tougher but there’s no other,
that I’d stand by forever.

How loud do I need to say “I love you”
So atleast you can hear the echoes
Every barrier, obstruction and wall I’ll get through,
‘cause even the most dead plant still grows.

I swear that I will love you until my death,
your name will be whispered in my final breath,
and it’ll be a prayer, the only one that I’ve ever known.
You’re not here and you say you’ve left,
the things I remember you make yourself forget,
but I’ll still be there, even if it’s in our home alone.

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.

Can I borrow a feeling?
I'll take whatever you can give.
I've had a real hard time dealing,
with the way that we're supposed to live.
Can I borrow a feeling?
It doesn't even have to be good,
I'd tie a rope to the ceiling
if I wasn't so sure I'd break the wood.

Can I borrow a feeling?
I'll be thankful for what you lend.
This world has stopped being appealing,
'cause while we stand, our knees tend to bend.
Can I borrow a feeling?
I can promise to put it to use,
and it's not in my nature for stealing,
I'll pay you back, this is no ruse.

I don't want to be a blank page,
displayed on centre stage.
I don't want to be a blank page,
I'm too young to feel this age.

Can I borrow a feeling?
I so badly wish to emote,
I've heard that it can be healing,
and free the hands from my throat.
Can I borrow a feeling?
I'm now really begging here,
and it's so **** revealing,
that my desperation is so clear.

I don't want to be a blank page,
displayed in my skeletal cage.
I don't want to be a blank page,
I'm too young to feel this age.

Can I borrow a feeling?
I'll be thankful for what you lend.
This life has truly sent me reeling,
and I finally feel at my wit's end.

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.

Please don’t mind me,
I’m just a splinter of the past.
Wandering blindly,
and hands are tied so I can’t grasp.
Just like the thought,
of giving up after giving all I’ve got,
I admit that it wasn’t a lot.

Now it’s too late to pretend
that I’m not broken; could be so easy to mend,
I’ll hide the shatter point where you made me bend.
I’ll return to my other fix,
it succeeds in dulling my heart with it’s mind tricks,
a perfect combination just mix and blend.

Nightly I lay awake
sketching scenarios involving us,
where you give and I take,
I return equal amounts; a benefit of respect & trust.
When it’s time to fill in each word,
I admit I’m aware I’m not what she deserves,
someone better who won’t lose their nerve.

‘Cause it’s too late to pretend
that it’s not plagued in every thought I spend,
should be thankful that I’m important enough to still be called friend.
And there’ll always be somebody else,
completely oblivious to a heart’s wealth,
and too focused on their self to ever expend.

We can’t fix the mistake
but we can make a new one;
drain each ocean and lake,
and completely block out the sun.

Yes it’s too late too pretend
that you’re not draped in every word I’ve penned,
even with the lowest odds I’ll still contend.
And do you see each blow and broken bone,
wishing that I’d just leave and find a home?
On me you can depend to not be alone,
do you think the same you could lend?

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.

Ten thousand words dedicated to everyone and everything in my life,
illustrating everything from love and happiness to heartache and strife.
I never think about jotting down much about myself except for what ills me,
so I’ll use this space at my own pace to try and explore each concept that fills me.

I like night much more than day,
it’s quiet and there’s more to what people say,
‘Cause even though I’m a good liar honesty is refreshing.
I like my music loud and long drives
but I always want to know where I’ll arrive,
It’s not that I’m a control freak but I don’t like to be kept guessing.

I’ve got an amazing memory,
you probably could quiz me,
I know almost every lyric to every song before two thousand and five.
And I’m strangely good at math,
in fact it still makes me laugh
that I was on the honour roll after missing 80 days; I didn’t even strive.

And I really love dogs,
elephants, penguins and frogs,
I believe animals are angels that live amongst us.
I love summer’s weather but winter’s clothing,
I can wear a happy mask or I’m always moping,
It’s not that I’m fake or depressed, I’m just like gold covered in rust.

I smoke like a chimney
even though I can barely breathe
and I love to dance when no one else is around.
I’m good at impersonations,
I can mimic a singer from each generation,
but it makes me question how I myself sound.

I like colourful lighters and pens,
my favourite numbers are all before ten,
And I can keep going on but it might get troubling.
I like to make everyone feel as ease,
And I like hanging out under trees,
You can call me Em but if I love you you can call me Emily.

I can't see anything but you
so I'll force myself to blink,
but I know it won't do
you're the first thing of I think.
Then I greet you before sleep;
I think I'll pour myself a drink,
But the cup never seems deep,
though in the depth I could sink.

Tell me a story
that's full of glory
and never sees heartbreak.
Make something for me
and please say sorry
that this was all a mistake.

Take me back in time
back to the sunshine
before the skies turned grey.
Please show me a sign
that this will all be fine,
and now this time you'll stay.

I can't see anything but you
so I stare directly to a wall,
but the paint of it is blue
and in time it's going to fall.
Even rubbing at my eyes
only causes it to stall,
we've been sharing the same skies
and listening to thunder's call.

Tell me a story
that's full of glory
and never sees heartbreak.
Ignore the gore scene
and all inbetween
even if the ending's fake.

Take me back in time
back to the sunshine
before the skies turned grey.
Ignore the bold line
this life is not mine
it wasn't meant to be this way.

And I can't see anything but you.
Ignore every other shade or hue.
I can't see anything but you.
You're stuck in my mind with glue.
And I can't see anything but you.
You're forever in my view.
I can't see anything but you,
but that's not something new.

When in doubt for my thoughts and feelings,
just look at your own and you’ll see mine as well.
After all, that’s how these things work.

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 only wish to be by your side
I wish for it every single night,
but you didn’t bring me along for the ride,
infact you didn’t take notice until I was out of sight.

Bury me alive,
don’t leave me at the door.
I’ve been stretching this drive
down to the corner store.
I’ve been chain smoking,
and breathing the cold air skies,
I’ll tell you that I’m joking,
and if you cover my ears, I’ll cover your eyes.

I’ve been trying to catch the ocean,
but ended up drowning in her eyes.
I’m stashing away every emotion,
and she accuses my sentiment for lies.
I want to go on a joyride,
I want to drive away but not to hide.
I want to go on a joyride,
but I’m feeling alone and you’re not by my side.
So I’ll turn up the music,
and ignore my pride.

Travelling the dark street
of that old quiet ghost town,
the ferret was very discreet,
but warned of us of the bear and to slow down.
Losing track of time and missing our exit,
with conversations holding a life of their own.
I’ll remind you so you won’t forget it,
now I’ll drive that highway completely alone.

Bury me alive,
oh wait, you made the shallow grave.
I’ve been stretching this drive,
it’s pitch black but I remind you to be brave.
I’ve been listening to our favourite song,
the lyrics I easily memorize.
Eliza Dushku’s turn was wrong,
but if you be my ears, I’ll be your eyes.

I know your measurements; head to toes,
and you’re perfect just the way you are.
You know I love how you look in my clothes
when you sit beside me in my dark car.
And all the streetlights went out
as we silently took a joyride,
it’s not unusual for me but I have my doubt,
that it wasn’t amplified by her by my side.

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.

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.

I put in my time and I paid the price,
I gained the honour to be your personal sacrifice.
I traded my last breath for your new beginning,
it wasn’t the alter I envisioned, but I still consider this winning.

I swear every single word up and down,
it was voluntary; you didn’t need to trap me.
You know I’d crush my structure to resist your frown,
and I’ll give anything to know I played a roll in making you happy.

I spoke the oath now do the deed,
to help your growth you know I’d bleed.
I swapped my last day for the first in your new life,
I apologize for bleeding while suggesting a better way for you to hold the knife.

I demolished my own walls for you to see open doors,
I’ll remain motionless, no need to strap me.
I always promised you that I’d gladly give my life for yours,
it would be worth it knowing I played a part in making you happy.

I reject my last rights and deny my last meal,
I ponder an anaesthetic but choose instead to feel.  
And if you were to offer me a chance to leave and run,
I’d suggest the most dangerous game but I don’t have a gun.

Some would call me a down right fool,
and supportive well wishers would tell me I hold more worth than this.
But to assist in your desired creation; I’d be canvas, supply or tool,
to be responsible for that smile is the only thing that’s priceless.

After it all I’m reduced to dust and bone,
you’ll keep going on and I’m now put to rest.
But you know deep down you’re never alone,
you’ll still carry my heartbeat within your chest.

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.

Rest the sterile smile plastered falsely on your face,
eyes set to the mile while mind is not in place,
place self on cruise control and be astonished by a crash,
anything to leave the hole that is filling up with trash.

A landmark embodiment of mundane reality,
I built an essential pyramid but not of food groups or of needs.
It resembled a tomb, but one far too good for me,
but I ensured that it suffocated all potential seeds.
I blame myself and my own hands
for whatever I unintentionally create,
but lacking blue prints or floor plans,
it’s impossible to have a clean slate.

Erase the transparent barriers that line all the small talk,
they say “the more, the merrier” but it’s getting hard to walk.
Greeting sad dark skies when I sleep and when I wake,
so I’m rubbing my eyes hoping it might give perception a shake.

Anonymously me,
it’s clear and everyone can see,
neutral yet so angry,
is there anyway else to be?

A landmark embodiment of mundane reality,
I built an essential pyramid but not of food groups or of needs.
It’s still magnetic North, but it’s South I wish to see,
as downwards is my destination due to my deeds.
I shame myself and my own hands
for whatever I unintentionally create,
and when you’re covered up in brands,
it’s impossible to have a clean slate.

You asked me to write how I feel,
or atleast my every single thought,
so my fingernails made my skin peel
and my organs were exposed with rot.
My flesh lost all it’s remaining elasticity,
but true to form it provided struggle and I had to pull,
and imagine you had the audacity
to tell me my decomposition was still beautiful.

Atleast I can thank you for that moment,
admittedly it came extremely late,
no matter the present, I’ve already blown it,
you know it’s impossible to have a clean slate.

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.

My demons and shadows are placing bets against me,
black is heartbreak and red is destruction.
They watch the wheel spin so intensely,
holding their breath so strongly that it’s creating suction.
The winner of the jackpot round
will play Russian Roulette with my life,
it’s inevitable, fated, destined and bound,
‘cause I brought a pen to a knife fight.

I’m winning in a debate,
on a topic for which I don’t care,
it won’t change the structure or state,
for a system that will always be there.
Who are we alone? Who are we together?
Drink the marrow straight from the bone,
so you can savour my blood forever.

I lost all faith in my last name,
as a MacKenzie- “I shine; not burn.”
But I feel the heat from the blame,
and the scarred mark I was born to earn.
The funeral pyre is already lit,
the flames flicker and engulf my strife,
I’m too stupid to halt and call forfeit,
‘cause I brought a pen to a knife fight.

Empty hands, and broken fingers,
hanging strands, clings and lingers.
Sunken shoulders, and lifeless eyes,
a name in my folders, alphabetically organized.

You can’t decipher a word’s meaning,
if the word is never actually spoken.
The tree never fell but it’s slightly leaning,
surprisingly roots just can’t be broken.
And sometimes I’m scared to blink,
even though I’m unimpressed with this sight,
I’ll be bleeding out in colourful ink
as I brought a pen to a knife fight.

You know sharks don’t sleep
and sadly neither do I.
But now I’m in too deep,
“you’re gonna need a bigger boat”
just to get by.

You told me to put on my dancing shoes,
and I strapped on two concrete blocks.
You asked me to relay the news
but I went for the thrills and shocks.
Now my oxygen is running low;
my heavy head is finally feeling light.
I’ll still try to give you a good show
but I brought a pen to a knife fight.

I’ve got another cold night ahead of me
exhale and treasure the breath that I see.
Snow prints don’t lie,
dark tints the sky and I
still witness a star glimmer in my lazy eye.

Whipping winds lash at my face,
squeeze in my shoulders and pick up my pace.
Snow prints don’t lie,
my squints still try to magnify
and catch a glimpse of light to my lazy eye.

So I’ll wear a heavy sweater
and will double up on socks,
prepared for all types of weather
but I’ll be tripping over rocks.
No choice but to keep on going
even without water, shelter or a knife,
and though I’m done with all of the snowing
I guess I’ll just layer up for life.

I’ve got another long day in my view
hopelessly chasing a sunset, I miss each shade and hue.
Snow prints don’t lie,
short stints too high but I comply,
hoping to rest my head and close my lazy eye.

So I’ll wear a heavy sweater
and will double up on socks,
to be facing the outside better
but I’ll be crashing with the stocks.
And in order to pass “go” again,
you gotta trek through heartbreak and strife,
cold hands, do you have mitts to lend?
As I must layer up for life.

I’m determined to walk the path less taken,
and when we intersect it will be the one less shaken.

Sleep; I've been waiting for you every night,
and I'm in too deep, so deep I can barely see the light.
I've been counting sheep, but there's always one more in my sight,
they want to leap, but their small legs don't have the might.

This isn't good for me, no, it's not good for anyone,
A human was meant to see, the warmth and light of the sun.
I've wasted Summer away, we're almost in November,
I'm losing more life every day, I just want to sleep forever.

So sing me some lies and lullabies,
something sweet that won't make me cry,
some sighs for the starry skies,
for just you and I.
Sing me some lies and lullabies,
something sweet to make me try,
some sighs for my tired eyes,
it's just you and I.

I don't wish to live this way, no, no one should be a vampire,
but I do it for the pay, because the rent is getting higher.
When's the last time I felt sane? I don't even really remember,
each breath causes pain, I just want to sleep forever.

Sleep; I've been waiting for you every night,
and I wish to keep, what remains of my brain that's right.
I've been counting sheep, but there's always one more in my sight,
the number's steep, and the fence is closing in tight.

This isn't good for me, no, this isn't good for anyone,
people were meant to be, another animal to hunt and run.
I've wasted my life away, next will come December,
I'm sure I'll feel the same in May, I just want to sleep forever.

I’ll be the first to admit
I didn’t have much almost a year ago,
but I had you and you had me.
We had dug ourselves a hole so ******* deep,
even with a telescope scrounged from the garbage we could not catch any glimpses of the natural life above us.
But I held your hand in the darkness
and gave it reassuring squeezes to let you know we’d climb out eventually,
and if we failed, we’d have eachother in the darkness.
At some point I stopped feeling your hand squeeze back,
and within the darkness I could only conclude you had died.
That I was within a hole, I suppose a grave now,
refusing to abandon a decomposing corpse.
When your lips peeled back it revealed your teeth clenched together,
and I convinced myself it was a final smile, but really, I see it was gritted teeth of discontent and disgust.
You blamed me solely for the grave,
but we dug it together, and it only became a grave because you decided to give up instead of fighting for each day and the possibility it would bring.

Everytime we talk now, you leave me for the night to stew in the sadness
and loneliness, you initially left me to drown in.
But there’s a drought from the skies,
so I fill the hole with my tears,
and the blood gushing out from the wounds you gifted me.
I failed to realize those tender kisses where compressed, jaw locking bites into my flesh,
tearing open whatever jugular you had left with me after going after it.

You tell me about your current predicament since your soul
departed the grave and rejoined the land of the living.
It isn’t as great as you believed it would be, is it?
So why do I still feel obligation and sadness hearing about it?

You left me to fend for myself,
to pick up the pieces of the life
we had together that you shattered in a matter of an hour.
You didn’t feel remorse or responsibility for where and how you desserted me.
I’m just not that type of person.

You set what little I had left on fire.
Whether it was my structure,
my financial security,
my confidence,
and the pieces of myself I wished to give to someone more deserving.
Someone who could be there for me in a way you never wanted to be.
Someone who actually loves me and wants to climb out of holes with me.
And I just can’t now.

I don’t love you anymore.
Atleast, not the way I believed I did.
But why do I still feel protective and responsible
for the one who poured the gasoline
and lit the match,
and didn’t even bother to stay to warm their soul at my pyre?

I must be the biggest ******* idiot on the planet.

There's some lessons to learn, but I can only teach so much,
resentment will cause you to burn, so to anger please never clutch.
It will take up room in your brain, and make your eyes seem hollow,
it'll cause your heart to drain and soon your soul will follow.

Here is a tired line, a real used up remark,
but the stars can only shine when the sky is truly dark.
You can only feel good after you've felt so incredibly low,
you'd climb out if you could, your strength isn't just for show.

Do not seek out only wealth,
it will not buy you a life to live,
focus more so on your health,
and the cures Mother Nature can give.
Every object will become broken and will only create waste,
the real gifts are the ones spoken, with words that are truth based.

Always show love to your mother,
'cause you'll miss her badly when she's gone,
and look to a stranger like a brother,
and appreciate the dusk as if it were dawn.

There's some lessons to learn,
but there's just too many to say,
and some with mistakes you'll earn,
and some you'll realize another day.
Always find ways to expand your mind,
never stop seeking the truth,
and look at the world as if colourblind,
and please don't waste your precious youth.

Came to see if I was breathing,
I’m just needing a moment to calm down.
It’s just me still caged in this grieving
a sinking feeling causing me to drown.
Regardless of the gasping
it never stops; the question asking,
and my own answers are lacking
go ahead and tell ‘em, Long Lungs.

Hand over mouth in surprise and despair,
preventing fact from making a great escape.
A single breath couldn’t start to prepare
the never ending lines of caution tape.
Ignoring all of the many problems,
resigned to never solve them,
no one offers help so why involve them?
Go ahead and tell ‘em, Long Lungs.

I’ve been screaming silently most of my life.
Echoing pain and torment for endless miles.
Questioning visible scars while holding the knife,
that caused the death of seriousness and birthed countless smiles.

Came to see if I could tell or show
and speak the words I could never know,
while my grip weakens so I let it go,
and hope whatever falls can regrow.
Go ahead and tell ‘em Long Lungs.
Through all of the many seasons
they stopped changing and started bleedin’
I don’t judge’ cause I’m sure they have their reasons.
Go ahead and tell ‘em Long Lungs.

You, you've got me drunk off love,
you're all I ever think of,
your soul fits mine as a glove,
you're an angel from above.

You hold my heart, my hands; both the church and steeple,
now I finally understand why storms are named after people.

You are my only and my first,
you're the water to my thirst,
my heart feels bound to burst,
and to think I once believed myself cursed.

You hold my heart, my brain and my soul,
now I know you can be both empty and whole.

I'm full of heat, oh I feel the burn,
and my only feat is to yearn.
I was in the dark, always in a funk,
you've left your mark and now I'm love drunk.

I was lost until you found me there,
you stripped my walls right down bare,
you shine so bright that you have a glare,
I'm a drowning woman and you are my air.

You hold my heart, my life and my mind,
now I understand how love can make you blind.

I'm full of heat, oh I feel the burn,
and I've been beat so it's my time to learn,
I was down and my ship was sunk,
and when you're around I'm always love drunk.

My dear you are my favourite drug,
and I've done a few and drank to chug,
so come on love, I'll hold you close,
I'll put you in my veins and up my nose.

Please tell me all your secrets,
I’ll listen so very intensely,
I know I could never beat this;
intrigue consumes me so immensely.
Tell me all your little stories
from your birth until today,
I swear there’s so much there for me,
not one is boring regardless of what you say.

I’m an aspiring archeologist
wishing to discover your bones
I’ll take detailed notes in a list,
from the gravel to the stones.
I’ll dig as deep as you permit,
carefully brushing away the dust,
gently admiring bit by bit,
proving I’m someone you can trust.

Please tell me all the thoughts in your head,
the ones before you sleep and while awake.
A novel that’s new each time I’ve read,
each detail I’ll comb and rake.
Speak every word that comes to mind,
I crave to step inside your brain,
I know there’s hidden corners for me to find,
and so much understanding left to gain.

I’m an aspiring architect
wishing to build you to the sky,
every support beam I’ll personally inspect,
protecting any damage low or high.
I’ll construct only to your designs
ensuring you’ll never break and never bust,
producing the math and drawing the lines,
to prove you’ll be the only thing to never rust.

Please tell me all your deepest fears
so I can prepare myself to stand toe to toe,
the ones that cause sleepless nights and tears,
those are my one and only foe.
Tell me about the world you see,
how it looks through your bright eyes,
so I can express it creatively,
and paint you the perfect skies.

I’m an aspiring starving artist
wishing to illustrate every aspect of you,
you can criticize and say I’m blinded by the mist,
but every poem and portrait will be true.
There’s no explaining this pure bliss,
but I’ll make up new words and colours if I must,
as you’re the only thing that I ever miss,
proving this is love not just lust.

My monsters mate then they duplicate
I offer contraception; but it's too late.
They wish to reproduce, I only wish they'd reduce,
and it would be truly perfection if we could call a truce.

And my demons dance, what a sweet romance,
I turn off the music but they move to chants.
They wish to cause a stir, but I would prefer
if they wouldn't abuse it; it's meant to deter.

Play a song and put on a show,
they wish to belong but I want them to go.
There's no escape, there's no debating
that they're in great shape and the monsters are mating.

My monsters mate after their date,
I provide protection but they won't take the bait.
They crave sweet intimacy, just like me,
but the affection is laced with toxicity.

And my demons dance almost in a trance,
now I'm going deaf from my own rants.
They wish to cause a scene and I'm not too keen,
turn right cause on the left the grass could always be more green.

They sway to a loving bloom,
and they're banging hard in my head.
So I tell them to just get a room
and they say I should go to bed.

Play a song and put on a show,
their love might be wrong but atleast it creates a glow.
There's no end in sight and my nerves are grating,
day always turns to night and the monsters are mating.

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.

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.

The world to me does not exist,
as now I only live in my bed,
sheets and blankets clenched in my fists,
waking up is now something I dread.
The world to me does not exist,
as I just previously said,
and they all say ignorance is bliss,
I had to clear room in my head.

I am just stuck in a rut,
a misery merry go round,
smoking each cigarette to the ****,
silence still making too much sound.

Travel on, keep your feet strong,
life is too short but still too long.
Rambling soul, you'll pay the toll,
with a mind of fire and a heart of coal.
I don't want to stop this,
no I don't want to wait,
fear of missing something to miss,
with a touch of hope of being too late.

The world to me does not exist,
the blue pill looked better than the red,
every hour lived is now on a list,
compiled with showering and being fed.
The world to me does not exist,
society is something I've always fled,
I've hid in the shadows and the mist,
and quietly I've always bled.

I am just stuck in a rut,
a misery merry go round,
with constant aches in my gut,
and lungs that have already drowned.

Travel on, keep your feet strong,
life is too short but still too long.
Travel on, keep your feet strong,
nothing is right and nothing is wrong.
Rambling soul, you'll pay the toll,
with a mind of fire and a heart of coal.
Rambling soul, you'll pay the toll,
you'll live your life and play your role.
I don't want to stop this,
no I don't want to wait,
fear of missing something to miss,
with a touch of hope of being too late.

I know it sounds crazy,
I know I'm such a drag,
I don't know if I'm just lazy,
or if routine is prone to lag.

I keep buying tickets for the lottery
though I'm told I already won.
with each gamble I hope to see,
a glimpse of blue skies and the sun.

Sometimes when I skip rocks at the sea,
I'm surprised it doesn't throw them right back at me.
As when I was a much younger girl,
I always kicked out at the world,
but the world kicked back harder each time,
maybe just trying to keep me in line.

In life there's a set of lessons that we have to learn,
like passing your hand through a flame and seeing eventually that your skin will burn.
Or trusting the wrong person to keep your secrets and to guard your heart,
because more often than not, you'll have it ripped apart.

Maybe these thoughts hold no meaning,
but I've been dying just to get them out.
Since I was born I've been fiending,
to know what this whole life is about.

Every night I look for life in the skies,
but the only other world I've found is in my dog's eyes.
Her world is a place where love is given freely,
where ours is where our hearts leave unintentionally.

Maybe these thoughts hold no value,
but I've been dying just to give them air.
You would if you were plagued by them too,
I just want one night where my mind's bare.

Sometimes I envy those who don't hold their tongues,
I'm filling up with unspoken words and they're now filling up my lungs.
If I keep staying silent I will most likely drown,
but if I open up my mouth the water will rush on down.

Do you ever think we live in a picture painted by manipulative hands?
because from far away it looks perfect, but close up the colours have blended at the strands.
Maybe we're just hung on a wall with a glance from bored eyes,
and the only sounds in the gallery is a mix of yawns and sighs.

Maybe these thoughts hold no currency,
but I've been dying just to get them out.
Right now my mind's in a state of emergency,
I've been crying so hard that there's now a drought.

On Memory Lane with too much to give,
and in each block and cul desac  it’s all more exquisite.
Sometimes the place where you wish to live,
is only meant for a quick intense visit.

In the bottom of her drink,
she found the undeniable truth,
that she was right to feel and think,
that she wasted most of her youth.
Looking back on those late nights,
there was real purity between both eyes,
that shone brighter than all the lights,
and held more beauty than a sunrise.

With mixed drinks and mixed feelings,
it's hard to always stay on course,
every word can set you reeling,
regardless of it's force.
Melting dilutes the flavor,
and it's potential to set you free,
with each sip you try to savor,
the things that can never be.
With mixed drinks and mixed feelings,
no it's not meant for the weaklings.

In the shadows of a smoke filled room,
she prays to whoever listens for one more chance,
it would still be fated to be met with doom,
that's just always due to circumstance.
The glass is not half empty,
and it sure as hell isn't half full,
it's contents spilt on the floor for all to see,
and her grasp neither pushed nor pulled.

With mixed drinks and mixed feelings,
it's hard to always stay on course,
and each sip meant to be healing
is dampened and ruined by remorse.
The straw will get you more drunk,
but it's not half as satisfying,
that ship sailed until it sunk,
so it was never even worth trying.
With mixed drinks and mixed feelings,
it was shown the potential hit it's ceiling.

So down your last glass, and say your last word,
'cause time goes by too fast, your confessions won't be heard.

"Will you remember me?"
she asks me so fondly,
"lately I've been forgetting,
but you're just so **** haunting."

I never know when I'm going to fall asleep,
and each dream I have is a nonsensical surprise.
I'm sure if I look hard the messages are deep,
but I never know what is true and what are lies.

When I'm awake I'm still always in bed,
each second I feel my soul drain more and more,
how strong does one have to be to defeat their head?
Or to not immediately drop down to the floor?

I'm cursed to be moved by many things,
and sometimes I'm not sure if I am real.
But still I rely on mood rings
to tell me how I should feel.

I like taking hot baths, so hot I can feel the burn,
'cause even when I'm feverish I can barely stand the cold.
My pink skin proves there's lessons some just choose not to learn,
and I'm not sure if it's foolishness or me trying to be bold.

Each season has it's emotion it brings,
and when they leave there's parts of me they steal.
But still I rely on mood rings
to tell me how I should feel.

I speak to the air that's around me,
pretending it's a ghost of the past.
Inbetween where dreams meet reality,
there's a depth that's so very vast.

I've always been one to fear change,
in a weird way I find comfort in the pain,
I'm not sure if that's common or deranged,
but the grass is always greener after some rain.

In stories both angels and demons have wings,
and both have someone to whom they kneel.
But still I rely on mood rings
to tell me how I should feel.

I’m sleeping tied in knots,
I’m waking up still yawning;
it’s just become too much.
I’ve been multiplying my shots
looking for an ounce of calming,
but it can be hard to walk, without a crutch.

The stars are looking bleak
I’ve been busy living on the ceiling,
and prodding at my skin
as it’s become numb to all feeling.
And It’s always latest at night
when your head finds a light,
and your mind takes flight
then you gain blinding sight.

I’m sleeping with clenched fists,
and I assume with clenched teeth;
it’s just become this routine.
Body and soul contorts and twists,
layered both above and lying beneath
it’s the most flexible and restrained, I think I’ve ever been.

I had plans for this time,
but they’re reduced down to “oh well,”
begrudgingly accept that this is fine,
maybe dress it up with a “this is swell.”
I might never again see the light
but I’ll adapt to living in the the dark,
evolve, survive; flight or fight
I’ll be nocturnal existing in the park.

Victory has a hundred fathers
but it’s true defeat is an orphan.
The little things that no one bothers,
can be the greatest gifts; overflowing with endorphins.

Can you tell me where to find the bright side?
Apparently it holds all of the answers.
to cure the sickness that plagues my mind;
the worst but least lethal of all the cancers.

I’m counting the minutes
and I’m stacking the week,
and the intensity in it;
so insanely heavy I just can’t speak.
When will these thoughts diminish?
It’s growing stronger, it’s turning bleak.
The floors will shine and shimmer with wax and finish,
but it will never ever silence the creak.
The floorboards inevitably became weak.

I’ve got a fire starter in my hand,
foreign notions that I don’t understand,
living in outer space but still on land.
You own every inch of my mind,
every spot has a part of you in it you’ll find,
and your smile that always makes me blind.
Baby I’m addicted to you and you know it
it’s so painfully obvious how much I show it,
I pray everyday and night that I don’t blow it.

You could be the best thing that ever happened to me,
honestly, who am I kidding, you are and we both agree.
You’re all I’ve ever wanted and you’re all I’ve ever needed,
and you deserve to be flaunted, no one could compete; they’re all defeated.

I have nothing if I don’t have you,
I’ve promised the words so I’ll make them true,
there’s nothing in this world for you I would not do.
My breath isn’t the only thing away you take,
you’re human perfection lacking any mistake,
named with the sea but eyes deep like a lake.

You could be the best thing that ever happened to me,
honestly, who am I kidding, you’ve taken away my misery.
You’re all I’ve ever wanted and you’re all I’ve ever needed,
and when you were gone I felt so haunted and all light had been depleted.

You can have my remains-
they’re yours, everything that’s left.
Darling you pump through my veins
and you’re in my every breath
I think about you when awake
just as much when I’m asleep.
A pattern I promise not to break,
but I can’t cross my heart ‘cause it’s yours to keep.

You could be the best thing that ever happened to me,
honestly, who am I kidding, you’ve always been my destiny.
You’re all I’ve ever wanted and you’re all I’ve ever needed,
and now that I finally got this I swear you’ll never be mistreated.

Here I am, as real as stone,
I am no dream, feel my flesh and bone.
In these words I’ll present my honesty
and tonight you’ll give me only silence.
You’re the missing puzzle piece, and the best of me,
but pushing the piece down only creates defiance.

Here I am, this is no test,
I am no ghost feel the beat from my chest.
In these words I’ll present all I want to say
but can never untie my tongue,
You’re the sun, the moon, the night and the day,
my oxygen to each empty, shrunken lung.

Listen to me, I’m terrible at declarations,
but I’m honest to a fault and love to confess.
I’ll be detailing with no abbreviations
everything you wish to know and nothing less.
The clock has stopped, maybe it’s hand is broken,
or perhaps the batteries just finally ran dry.
But it’s now time out, something’s need to be spoken
the who, when, what, how and most of all the why.

I’ll meet your eyes
and tell you only the truth,
Love, you light my morning skies
and bring me back to my youth.
My dreams are slaves to you
but sleep’s been slipping through my fingers,
just please tell me what to do
cause this devotion only lingers.

No silver medal, no second string,
I was tired of rotting on the bench.
Foot’s on the pedal, I’m in the ring,
my thirst’s begging for quench.
I’m a light weight champion with my eyes on the prize
even knocked out I’ll be back again,
are you really that surprised?

I’ll meet your eyes
and give you all you want from me,
Love, you light my morning skies
and make me who I’m meant to be.
Our skin will mesh in place
like we were made to combine,
and each inch my fingers trace
is the definition of divine;
I am yours and you are mine.

You might be my lightbringer
as you always banish the dark,
palm to palm, finger meets finger,
softness can still leave a mark.
You light my morning skies
you are the controller of the sun,
pushing me to awake and rise
and giving strength to get things done.

Pack up my personality,
make sure the tape really sticks.
This home has been my totality,
every board and all the bricks.
Throw away my secrets,
we'll need a bag just for those,
and I hope I won't have to repeat this,
but I don't want those stains on my clothes.
The woman makes the threads anyways, I suppose.

It'll be the last time that I close that door,
on those twenty-four years before,
it gave me warmth and so much more,
when I was stranded it was my shore,
home is where the heart is, so says the lore.

Put away my memories,
in a box that's labeled "fragile,"
'cause even though they'll lift with ease,
I'd prefer for them all not to pile.
Throw away the forgotten fights,
the ones that always left the scars.
Make sure to only bring the nights,
with the brightest moon and stars,
but they won't fit into such small cars.

It'll be the last time that I close that door,
on those twenty-four years before,
where I sat dazed on the floor,
feeling high enough to soar,
home is where the heart is, but I'm lacking that core.

Store away my personality,
the one that fits me like a glove,
all the things that compile of me,
and illustrate all the things I love.
Throw away the parts of me that are broken,
I don't think I'll ever long for them,
but wait, maybe I've just misspoken,
cause that's the root of my twisted stem,
even a damaged jewel is still a gem.

It'll be the last time that I close that door,
on those twenty-four years before,
and there won't be twenty-four more.
It'll be the last time that I close that door,
I have no idea what's now in store,
home is where the heart is, but my chest is bruised and sore.

So say goodbye to Tower,
a street where once I walked each path,
where I knew each tree and flower,
and love's bliss and heartbreak's wrath.
Also say farewell to family,
well essentially it's only the dwelling,
but I don't know what life has planned for me,
as with the future there is no telling.

It'll be the last time that I close that door,
on those twenty-four years before,
there won't be twenty-four more.
It'll be the last time that I close that door,
I'll open a window to even the score,
home is where the heart is, but the beats feel like a chore.