Shake; don't stir, run through the pattern,
I was always Jupiter but they all prefer Saturn,
it's got a ring while I'm all explosions,
that's just the thing with these silly emotions.
In outer space the stars are your only friend,
and you're feeling out of place but these days that seems like a trend.
When the moon seems too far away,
the sun will come soon but it will never stay.

Xannie's my favourite girl,
she's got me spinning in this crazy world,
so I add some blue to the swirl,
with the red it makes purple pearl.
My thoughts say "I don't want to live like this."
So I jot some shots to my list.
I can only dream of that peaceful bliss,
and the ancient years of which I miss.

Shake; don't stir, follow the lead,
you see flowers occur but I only see a ****,
toxic it grows until all it consumes,
everyday she mows but I think it needs fumes.
Down in the dirt where soil holds the leaves,
I buried the hurt but a heart still grieves,
and when the moon is covered with sheets of grey,
the sun will come soon but it will never stay.

Xannie's my favourite love,
she fits my heart tight like a glove,
and when it comes to push or shove,
she's all that I've been thinking of.
My thoughts say "I don't want to live like this."
"If this can even be considering living."
I'm waking up to a dark abyss,
it's taken all and now it's giving.

The thoughts in my head,
buried under the dirt,
those words left unsaid,
the ones that cause hurt.
But tomorrow might not come,
this whole thing could be done,
and I've bit my lip since I was young,
I'd hate to also bite my tongue.

Xannie's my favourite girl,
she's got me spinning in this hazy world,
warming my body until I curl,
now all routine is a deadly burl.
My thoughts say "I don't want to live like this."
"Maybe I don't even want to live at all."
Every single second I just reminisce
of the days before I hit that wall.

Who would've ever thought
that during those teenage years,
I believed each day I fought
against loneliness and my fears.
But youth was just a brawl
adulthood is a ****** war,
back then I really had it all
but resented that I didn't have more.
This realization has caused madness,
and irony has a thick glaze,
'cause the youth that I wasted in sadness
was really the "good ol' days."

Shredded gold and silver flakes
it’s all been sold, from land to lakes.
I’m running up quite a bill
stationed up on my window ceil,
bargaining with Bungalow Bill
asking for a discounted thrill.
Vacant roads and silent trees
these heavy loads buckling my knees.
I couldn’t walk one more pace,
not known to finish a race,
I’ll forfeit before taking last place
then blame my undone shoe lace.

Within a half awake state,
I scribbled explanations too late,
they weren’t worthy or close to justified.
I’m just a chaser to bait,
too far behind at this rate,
but I’m sworn to the end so I abide.

A Prism view or black and white,
soft morning dew, or a starry night.
Which one should I prefer,
if they both blend and blur,
I sought the opinion from her
but accepted the first to occur.

I’m under the tree, the one from our seed,
taught me to see but not to read,
so I decipher each calligraphic,
with details too specific,
undesired outcome so prolific
my mind allows me to trick it.

There was more life in the tears
that stood back waiting for years,
only to greet their moment on the floor.
Falling down while nobody steers,
halting the joints and the gears,
and I will cover the space under the door.

We will equally share this burden,
lights off and close the curtain,
I’ll hide my breaths within the thunder.
Hastily halt then proceed to hearten,
and though I’m still very uncertain,
I’ll let doubt pull and drag me under.

Is there room for context at this table?
We can move some dishes and shuffle chairs.
I’ve checked all four legs and they seem stable,
but choosing a placemat is like splitting hairs.
I notice the candle’s flame is getting dim,
and my fingers pirouette in the puddles of wax,
my hair needs a cut but I settled for a trim,
and I’m donating my salary and spending my tax.

I’ve told you every thought in my head,
except the ones that matter the most,
the facts that scald my cheeks to red,
now they’re burning up like charred toast.
I’d promise you whatever you ask for,
and I’d drag myself to deliver each time,
but I’m ignoring the truth at my core,
and I’m confessing to you in mime.

Sit across from me with crossed legs,
see magnets becomes our eyes,
“come closer together” both begs,
but we’re determined and polarized.
There’s no world existing around us,
and there certainly is no group,
you listen while I ramble and make a fuss,
over the death of Lipton’s Alligator Soup.

We turned Heaven into a Hell,
we took a skeleton and made a shell,
We dragged our nails down the walls
scribbled ephiphanies on bathroom stalls,
and silenced a story we could never tell.

And all the things that have driven us apart,
in truth have only made us stronger.
and my love you are actually my heart,
I won’t question it’s beating any longer.

If you’re stuck with a choice
you should flip a coin in the air,
then listen to your mind’s voice,
‘cause your answer will be there.
When it comes to heads or tails,
you already know your favourite side,
you’ll pray for it as the coin sails,
ignore the outcome but absorb the ride.

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 *******.

A beauty that’s rarely seen,
only reserved for the May queen.
Dancing under her midsommarstang
when the time speeds up but it still seems so long.

We can share some codependency
we can share some trauma and blood.
If you were to leave it would be the end of me,
is this the type of story we tell of love?

Sadly there’s some poetic irony
of the horror when you witnessed the elders jumping,
still human enough but too lost to see
you were in the line; one day to be waiting.

Confuse possession with protection
mistake bare empathy for tender caring.
When’s the last time you felt needed affection
except for the wrong type others are sharing?

And at the very end of it all
you’ll have a face full of tears,
‘cause even a May Queen has to fall
within the changing of season in the years.
And you won’t even care
if it’s freedom or a new type of prison,
‘cause atleast someone will be there
to cry with, to hold you and listen.

When I was fourteen
my sister was teaching me how to drive,
I went to make a left turn and hit the breaks; second guessing myself.
“Never hesitate,” she said,
“it’s when you hesitate that causes a crash.”
“Make a decision and go with it.”
All these years later it still rings true.
All these years later I still have yet to listen.

She grabbed my neck, one hand, and her fingers quickly connected,
“You should have some more self respect, you’re taking this further than I expected.”
I swear that I’m eating again,
but I won’t try to pretend,
that the food doesn’t make me hurt, the removal of my organs didn’t mend.
I ask her to forget it and to just talk about the weather,
the topic wants to drop; she won’t let it, she knows I’m not getting any better.
I was always too much of a lost cause to trust I’d ever be repaired,
for years she’s held the gauze and just silently waited and stared.

At 21 my mother died from a long battle with cancer,
I toughed through it to provide comfort I could never allow myself to receive.
So my own sickness was inspired by Elton John’s “Tiny Dancer”
it was never my goal but what my
brain wished to achieve.

I told them all to leave me,
I didn’t expect they would do so,
a few stragglers stayed who wished to prove they were strong.
It’s still shocking that they believed me
or were they waiting for a polite out to go
one that they could argue wasn’t wrong?

And I’d rather break a mirror
than to see the reflection everyone else shared,
it’s not that I would fear her,
but through seven years bad luck I’ve already fared.
I made a choice and a deal
to give my worthless life for just a few good days,
you can’t put a price on how you feel,
you can only hope and pray that that feeling atleast stays.

I became best known through all encounters in every social gathering
as the laid back confident joker, because they never saw me shattering.
I assure you that after I was always in my Honda drowning,
arguing with myself if it was better to be fake than the person always frowning.
I was dying for interaction beyond just meaningless conversation
and only ever met the odd soul to bring that alleviation.
I was so used to the shadows from the comfort of my basement
that I flinched when I saw sunlight and only after felt amazement.

I was a skeptic and untrusting as to why the sun would ever shine on me,
and the refreshing waves that brushed my feet carried potential for drowning.
And just when I got used to light and a natural source of heat
the darkest cloud in history attacked until it did retreat.
Then I thought that drowning in the sea wouldn’t be the worst,
if it didn’t carry me into a current, perhaps it could wash away my curse.
But even the tide will move away when you decide to take that step,
past the point of clenching a fist, every muscle I own did treppe.

Los Camp said the sea was a great place to think about the future,
but I know it’s a great place to think about the one you lack.

Remember all those peaceful nights
in hazy candlelit glow,
expressing all of the rights;
factors you now pretend not to know.
Expressing great gratitude
at the partnership we had found,
it’s funny how your attitude
changes drastically when I’m not around.

“I need to be selfish right now”
you say it like it’s a new development,
and your mind is blank to how
I was alone in the room with an elephant.
I did everything you could need
without even a second thought,
gave my sweat, tears and would occasionally bleed,
and the one thing I asked for I never truly got.

We made a life together,
we dug a hole with two hands,
you promised me it was forever,
those were some very speedy time sands.
I sacrificed all I could for you
and still you obviously need more,
I don’t know what it is you plan to do,
I hope they discover whatever you’re looking for.

The only thing you can say to me
is that I could raise my voice,
avoiding the issues that were clearly frustrating,
ignoring the times I made another choice.
Never listening to a possible solution,
not taking one step in an alternate route,
just instead labelling me toxic pollution,
or a disadvantage like blindness or gout.

“I need to make a life for myself”
we both agreed on that for two years time,
but unlike you for me, I was there to help,
I thought of it as our life; not yours or mine.
I did everything you could need,
without even a second thought,
I was tending and watering the soil for the seed,
you were too occupied deciding on the ***.

We made a life together,
planned a future for shared dreams,
and you’ve turned me to a worn in sweater,
that you picked apart the threads and seams.
I loved you more than anyone,
and put you above the sun in the sky,
and out of nowhere you claim you’re done,
abandoning me like a passerby.

You act like you don’t even care,
but six years is a very long time,
to suddenly decide your not there,
to pretend I’m not yours and you’re not mine.
And while your robbing me of sleep currently
I’m confident one day that you’ll lose yours,
‘cause as easy as it is to pretend the fault lies on me,
I was opening every window and always holding open your doors

"Will you always love me?"
The question is absolutely ridiculous; I have loved her a million lifetimes before, and I will love her for a million lifetimes after.
Our souls mesh and fit every inch of each other.
Our minds are forever connected, and our hearts are perfectly intertwined.

"Will you always be.."
"Mine?" I finish for her, like many sentences she speaks.
My answer is a smile, a true and genuine smile.
A smile that, before her, never had graced my lips before.
She possess every single speckle of my being,
my organs were utterly useless before I donated them to her.
Her hands fit in mine perfectly,
and my skin is electrified by simply brushing up beside her.

"I love her."
I tell my mother's headstone, when I catch up with the grass and trees in the graveyard.
Four years have flown by, and everyday I am still more in love than the last.
When we're good we're great, and when we're bad we're good.

"She's the one" the stars hear my thoughts,
a constant running track in the style of an infinity symbol;
every grain on it being a vision of only her.

"She is my world"
and I live for her, every. single. day.

I took my first wrong turn
when I took you so for granted,
I was so relieved to wake up next to you.
I’m so used to making my world burn,
or making sure that it stays slanted,
perhaps I should stop writing in red and start with blue.

You want to know what was my worst mistake,
it was watching your heart break
to prevent a fracture of my own.
I need to stop doing things only for my sake;
can’t eat and have my own cake,
each day is just a loan.

I see colours from and around you
but I always paint shades of grey,
we can argue that the pictures beautiful all the same.
Analyze shadows, shades and each hue,
we can always find a sun ray;
we’ve perfected it into our own type of game.

You want to know what was my worst regret,
was making your eyes turn wet
to keep my own dry.
I’d place all I own left on a bet
that it’s something we both won’t forget,
I wish that was a lie.

I committed my worst crime
based upon my biggest sin,
you’re so faithful; truth is I don’t deserve you.
“This won’t happen a second time,
I’d rather trade off my soul and my skin
spend the rest of my life held together with tape and glue.”

You want to know what was my worst mistake,
it was watching your heart break
to prevent a fracture of my own.
Share consequences from the choices I make,
it causes me to burn and ache
right down to the bone.

We sat upon our hands
and watched the world go by.
Counted the seas and lands,
measured from ground to sky.
The ownership was not fair,
potential to be a billionaire,
without setting up a trust
gold can't stay but can it rust?

Life grows from a seed,
we take inventory and stock.
It's more than you'll need,
who sold the last free rock?

They plant a waving flag,
and make the ground their own,
they saw those who held just a rag,
and told them it was now on loan.
When will they tax the air?
Potential to be a billionaire,
who even signed the deed,
to sell the world for greed?

Both money and tree;
they share a shade of green.
This world should be free,
who sold the last free scene?

We sat upon our hands,
and watched the world go by.
Raked in the dollars from sands,
and made money by making trees die.
We did nothing but stare,
potential to be a billionaire,
who even decided the price,
and then doubled it twice?

Now borders and walls,
on lands we all should own.
Tax lakes and waterfalls,
and see how their stock's grown.

I am the rain, contact and I stain,
hydration for the nation but they always complain.
I'm better than snow, or atleast they say so,
less cold but I'm bold when I make the wind blow.

Oh how the clouds cover all of my scars,
but the comforting shelter blocks the beautiful stars.
And all of the thunder blocks all of my cries,
I slip when I drip straight out of the skies.
I'm the rain, I'm the rain, down the drain.

I am the rain, sun storms I can feign,
it will fight for the light but I always remain.
My puddles collect each dribble and speck,
with a splash then I'm brash just like you would expect.

Oh how the clouds cover all of my scars,
the blanket of grey mask the twinkle of Mars.
And all of the lightning makes everyone blind,
you will pass greener grass when I'm around, you will find.
I'm the rain, I'm the rain, sunshine's bane.

I am the rain, wash away the pain,
I get bored and absorb into dirt and to grain.
My heart is the storm, it still keeps me warm,
it shakes, the Earth quakes, but still keeps it's form.

Oh how the clouds cover all of my scars,
as I fall down on sidewalks and shower the cars.
And when the wind blows it pushes me far away,
I'll travel through gravel but always will stay.
I'm the rain, I'm the rain, through each vein.

I’m waiting patiently to wake up
a living nightmare where I’m always stuck,
this thing called life that I have no desire for,
there’s a million exits but only one opened door.

So I raised my happinesses tolerance
now referred to only in the past tense.
Two sides and two faces; who decides which is best?
I just don’t know which one I recognize less.

My only saviour has been running late
but I promised that I would always wait.
She says I’m acting too stupid when she knows that I’m smart,
it’s these little contradictions that rip all apart.

I’m trying on all shades of purple and white,
I’ve gotten bored of only blue and red each night.
Why say so long when we can just say goodbye,
all that’s right is wrong and we feed truth a lie,
that’s the similarities and differences of you and I.

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 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.

I wake with a kink in my neck,
in my eye; a dirt speck.
Calling for all hands on deck; but we’re sinking.
I wish to return to the caves,
before we were on these rough waves
don’t know how we’ll dig these graves;
but I’m thinking.

But if I was taken by the wind
atleast then I’d understand.
But when the lady of the sea grinned
I came crawling hand over hand.
But if I was taken by the breeze
then I’d give up the horizon and trees
the sand and the land with great ease.

The ship of lost souls starts it’s sail at dawn
watch how it moves along,
in the currents so strong; isn’t she sturdy?
It’s stern turns so incredibly tight
even on the roughest night
but when held to the light; her deck’s *****.

But if I was taken by the wind
atleast then I’d go willingly.
Along with those who have sinned
or just those who chose to be free.
But if I was taken by the breeze
then I’d give up the flowers and bees,
leave it all behind, pay no mind
and even say please.

The static speaks my name and it's driving me insane,
the night's stars are it's eyes and I watch it right back.
Shadows cast on the blame, but still lighting up the pain,
I'm covered up under the skies with a veil pitch black.

The silence overloads my brain, and each thought's wasted in vain,
with a million possibilities that will never occur.
I am shackled with a moral chain, but it supports me to refrain
from a sense of humility that I can't ever deter.

I find each locked door more outrageous,
and I'm left like before, wondering if I'm contagious.
Why would they comfort me instead,
of putting a gun straight to my head?

The static speaks my name with pronunciation it can't obtain,
if white noise could stutter it'd probably have quite the drawl.
Questioning if I should feel shame, if I'm a painting or a stain,
or just a curse you mutter like graffiti on the bathroom stall.

I find it all dizzying and real dangerous,
I'm wondering if my misery is contagious.
Why would they comfort me instead,
when they could just leave me in my bed?

The static shrieks,
the floorboard creaks,
the river's dry but the faucet leaks.
The static shrieks,
years came from weeks,
I live in quiet, only silence speaks.

I plan my life in different stages,
I wonder if my strife is contagious.
Why would you comfort me instead,
of letting me follow the path you led?

Combining each thought and sharing a single mind,
while all living things rot, there's a darkness that can blind.
We believe ourselves are invisible, never worthy of a second glance,
and even when miserable, we all can receive a second chance.

Darling have you heard the story of the sun and the moon,
a love that was eternal, yet ended far too soon.
And even though opposite, they made the other complete,
as at night the Earth was moonlit and in day the sun brought heat.

And they were outlined by the stars,
forever lighting up their connection,
and in between came Mercury and Mars,
barely sliding by detection.
Yes it's truly a sorry and sad tune,
that old love story of the sun and the moon.

Shining for eachother and lighting up the world,
with a love that could smother and emotional tides always swirled.
Passing by and on the go, barely glimpsing a sight,
but the moon will always glow and the sun will always shine bright.

Darling have you heard the story of the sun and the moon,
with disaster so contagious, they were always truly immune,
and even though apart, they shared a soul together,
and they shared a heart, and they shared the skies forever.

And they were outlined by the stars,
forever lighting up their connection.
In the history books and memoirs,
there's some things they fail to mention:
they were both adoring and made the other swoon,
that old love story of the sun and the moon.

It wasn't well hidden; they danced a dance of pure seduction,
and they felt it was forbidden, as it would lead to their destruction.
So they kept their space, to give us both the dark and the light,
and now they rise and set as a race, it's competition and a fight.

And they were outlined by the stars,
forever lighting up their connection.
The constellations near and far,
tell the tale of their affection.
It may not be of glory, and it may just tell of ruin,
but we all should remember the love story of the sun and the moon.

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.

Your clear crystalline perfect sea
 touches and mix with my cloudy waves and sand.
They don’t crash together with speed or violently;
slowly fit together; lacing fingers together on each hand.

You’re wearing rings of rose gold
those around my eyes are black and blue.
Both sets of them are not so old,
but they’re also certainly not very new.

Counting the weaving constellations,
counting the bright and endless stars.
I made the story just an abbreviation;
just like my cuts birthed from my scars.

You’re wearing rings of rose gold
those around my eyes are black and blue.
The weather’s been awfully cold,
but your warmth has got through.

You’re wearing rings of rose gold
those around my eyes are black and blue.
Though this may come off as too bold
but I’ve always been inlove with you.

So feed my body to the fishes,
but make sure to keep my heart around.
Like a genie it could grant your wishes
but you’ll have to endure the sound.
Put it underneath the floorboards
just like in the Tell-tale Heart,
and set a timer for how long you can ignore
the lasting pounding once it begins to start.
I’m sure it’ll drive you mad,
I’d bet whatever’s left of me,
and would it even be so bad
to add another drop of water to the sea?

I always hear the old saying
“cut off the limb.”
Unfortunately,
my heart convinced my mind
to allow the infection to evolve
and grow into a whole new limb
that became a toxic person.

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.

The year I almost drowned
was the year I learned to swim.
I was weighed down pound by pound
and things were looking grim.
My arms flailing; began to tire
and my mouth was tasting salt,
just days ago I warmed myself by fire
and by lying on the asphalt.

Shadow stalks and kicking rocks;
irrelevant if your shoes are tied.
Checking locks and kicking rocks
get carried away by the tide.

The year I almost drowned
was the year I learned to swim.
I could view the sandy ground,
though the image was quite dim.
My head; just barely above the water
and desperately I was gasping for air,
and I could swear it was getting hotter
but the temperature was actually fair.

I’ve got currents and tides
within my mind.
And when I finally rip out my insides;
more water and waves you’ll find.

The year I almost drowned
was the year I learned to swim.
While being tossed and pushed around
I discovered I had every limb.
I could see a shoreline in the distance
it’s beaches with perfect white sand.
It seemed within an instance
I started treading steadily with each hand.

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.

I wonder what it's like to be somebody's wish,
the one thing they want whenever they open a gift,
A prize that they see would be worth every risk,
A five star entree that makes you pass the side dish.

And day will bleed in to night,
and I'll tie my shoes too tight.
Think in the dark and ignore the light,
scribble all the answers out of sight
but it'll be alright.

I wonder what it's like to be somebody's goal
A thought that consumes all their ambitions whole.
That they see me as priceless but still go bankrupt to pay the toll,
and I complete them, left arm to their right and a heart to their soul.

And day will bleed in to night,
and I'll tie my shoes too tight.
I'll feel the restless stirs kiss and bite,
And I'll be too short for the ride, regardless of my height,
but it'll be alright.

I wonder what it's like to be somebody's dream,
I'd be their ocean instead of a river or stream.
I can be the needle to stitch their  seam,
Be the summer in winter and every season inbetween.

My soul was consumed
so I can tell you for what it's worth,
It was as if sadness has bloomed
and hope failed to give birth.
I'd never wish that onto anyone,
with all the loneliness I saw,
so many things had come undone
except my wired jaw.

Now I think little thoughts that are so petty,
like why didn't Archie ever pick Betty?

You take it all out me,
want more than I could be.
What’s the difference between friend and foe?
How thick’s the line and how far does it go?
Handcuff me to my sins, they’re attached anyway,
I see the smirks and grins, can’t hold them off at bay.
The skies are grey, and that’s how they’ll stay,
until the next break of day.

One day I should sever the ties
if I wake up, suddenly clever and wise.
To hell with history,
I’ve got it all memorized.
It’s never been a mystery,
sweetness sprinkled with lies.
There’s no prize, no highs,
no compromise, just goodbyes.

What’s the difference between friend and foe?
I give the answers to questions I don’t know.
You say you care but it’s something you don’t show,
I doubt the sentiment’s there, but it deals a heavy blow.

You take it all out of me,
want more than I could be.
Draining my energy
till I can’t stand or breathe.
The skies remain so grey,
and that’s how they’ll all stay,
I’m fighting for one single sun ray.

One day I should sever the ties
if I wake up, suddenly not hypnotized.
To hell with history,
I’ve got it all memorized.
No note, just a list for me,
to advise but the size,
exposes your true guise.

I won’t even try to pretend,
that we both haven’t went off the deep end.
So what’s the difference between foe and friend?

One day I should sever the ties
‘cause you’ll never wake up or realize.
To hell with history,
I’ve got it all memorized.
And oh, how you’ll miss me,
when no one listens to your cries,
or your sighs, or your lies,
or goodbyes.

I’ve been holding you afloat,
trying to keep you from drowning
in your tears.
I know you secretly have a boat,
but you’ve actually been dead for years.

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.

We fell head first on the mattress
entwined, skin sliding and tightly pressed,
biting the same shoulders we used to lean.
Fingertips cascading down like a waterfall,
she read my eyes and translated the scrawl,
an impeding collision has never been so serene.

Living within the lines of the same page;
total freedom or lion’s cage,
comfortably in the middle or in between.
I’m knotted and tongue tied,
overcome with silent speeches of pride,
specializing in the coldest heat that I’ve ever seen.

When all you’ve got
is what you’ve stole or what you’ve bought,
what’s in your soul; the wars you’ve fought
what you’ve grown or what is rot.
When all you’ve done
is intense pain or mindless fun,
it’s endless rain or blinding sun
it’s unknown but just begun.
Homegrown and a home run.

Once more, a dark room all about me
shadows slick and embracing;
an empty void to the right.
Silence growing so deafening,
stronger than I could ever be,
another waste of life and a night.

When all you’ve got
is what you’ve stole or what you’ve bought,
One more *** hole in a parking lot,
what you found and what you’ve sought.
When all you’ve gave
was what you wanted or you crave,
scrimped with intentions to save,
losing steam while staying brave.
One foot out the door,and one in the grave.

All my past lives
that survives
each crash with every drive.
I’ll wake up; derived
but contrive
resurrection and revive.

Here’s to the perfect crime,
performing it for the thousandth time.
Sublime and in your prime,
but with a prayer rip off a layer
of permanent grime.

I’m a written and published open book,
you just have to read past the first chapter.
You skimmed the pages and took a look
at the last line to see if there was a happily ever after.
But like most things it’s up to interpretation,
left open ended in way for a hopeful sequel,
‘cause like all things true it’s plagued with complication,
but our story has no end and it has no equal.

And you, you were my favourite memoir,
your depth lined the thesis of a never ending essay.
I became inspired so I held an impromptu seminar,
a whole panel to if your picture was sepia or artistically grey.
I memorized every single thing you said,
every cryptic metaphor, every perfect rhyme.
I’ve lost count of how often that I’ve fully read,
and I still don’t understand after all of this time.

You’re a novel and I’m a novelty,
but you need a title; what should it be?
I’ve been writing you so that the whole world can see,
the way you shine bright effortlessly.

You were my own personal thesaurus and dictionary,
providing different words to dress up each thought.
You’re a first and only edition; what a rarity,
laced with metaphors and satire that’s barely caught.
You’re what Shakespeare aspired to always write,
and you accomplished it simply by being born.
I’d translate you to brail so those without sight,
could hear about you and the beauty they now mourn.

You’re a novel and I’m a novelty,
no need to proofread, no cause for editing.
I’ve been writing you so that the whole world can see,
the way you shine bright, always illuminating.

I’m a prologue,
and we’re the conclusion.
My authors note; the words of a demagogue,
but the details still lack any illusion.

You’re a novel and I’m a novelty,
I’ve memorized every word and dissected them cautiously.
I’ve been writing you so the whole world can see,
and once they skim the synopsis; they’ll never stop reading.

Let your mind slip for tonight
forget who and where we are,
alter the wrongs to make them right
return to the sky each faded star.
We could succeed in changing time
turn a foe to trusted friend,
is it even really a crime
to repair what was never meant to bend?

Even when the sun forgets to rise
you’ll be there lighting up the skies,
hypnotized by the galaxy in your eyes.
And if the world can no longer turn
you’ll see that the fire continues to burn,
and learn that there’s no need for concern.
You’ll know you’re irreplaceable.

This is just part of who we are,
we couldn’t escape it if we tried,
and even when you’re so very far
you still know I’m by your side.
It’ll be like this forever,
no matter what we do,
things change just like the weather
but never me and you.

Even when the sun forgets to rise
you’ll be there lighting up the skies,
it’s both beautiful and tragic how fast time flies.
And if the world can no longer turn
you’ll see that the fire continues to burn,
you were worth the wait and necessary to earn,
you should know, you’re irreplaceable.

And I carefully watch the constellations,
that take form within her deep eyes.
A million blank pages of declarations,
impossible for me to ever summarize.
I measure love from ground to mars,
and how I’ve never felt so complete,
but it spans all across the stars,
the same space where our souls meet.

Even when the sun forgets to rise
you’ll be there lighting up the skies,
you’re the one exception to every rule, none applies.
And if the world can no longer turn
you’ll see that the fire continues to burn,
you’re all I want, I long for and yearn,
you’ve always been irreplaceable.

You slowly run down my spine
and I’m sure you’re draining all of the fluid.
And how I think about you all of the time,
my God, if you only knew it.
While only in fleeting view,
you know my heart’s roads always lead to Rome,
and my love meeting and being with you
was just like finally coming home.

I need to ask this question,
I beg for you to answer it true,
please bring about heavy confession,
that you think of me as much as I think of you.
As my eyes only see you,
they burn with such scorching heat,
and they change from green, brown and blue,
the hues battle and they compete.

City streets and hardwood floors,
when my heart beats, each beat is yours.
Silent night and the darkest skies,
I drink in the perfect sight before
my eyes.
Each days that passes through,
three sixty-five takes its toll,
I just want to know you
I just want to see your soul.

You didn’t ask but you received my hand;
writers cramped and splattered with ink.
I’ve got this devotion I wear like a brand,
and you’re the only thought I think.
And if you should ever lose your sight and detection,
I will guide you through the dark,
any bruise, blemish or believed “imperfection”
I see only as a beauty mark.

Stretched out on my sheets and in my pores,
when my heart beats, each beat is yours.
Shining light and my personal sunrise,
I drink in the perfect sight before my eyes
Each moment feels brand new,
one step closer to our ultimate goal,
I just want to know you
I just want to see your soul.

Electricity now coursing in my veins
and galaxies stretched out upon my skin.
I wished to merge instead of changing lanes,
so thank you darling for letting me in.
Now I’ll forever be drowning in your eyes,
and always breathing in your voice.
I was in the dark but you lit the skies,
even the stars know you’re the superior choice.

She prays, she stays perched on her knees,
but she can’t admit she never receives replies.
All these days, it’s no phase but she never sees,
essentially she’s only talking to vacant skies.

She pleads with her beads, her trusted rosary
but every word falls on deaf ears.
Every night, routine tight, does she include me
or does she only prioritize her deepest fears?

I’ve only prayed once in my life
for something so meaningless most people would forget.
I should’ve saved my “one” for times of true strife,
but I’m a lucky gambler, I had never lost a bet.
Are you there God? It’s me, Emily,
not the one in the past or the future self,
I could ask for a million things but they wouldn’t hold much meaning
but I’ll neglect begging for my fleeting health.

Up, down, left and right,
I personally prefer the Contra Code.
It aids one better in a fight
regardless of the settings or the mode.
They say Sunday’s a time for worship and rest
but I’ve been working all night and my left brain won’t stop flowing.
I guess there’s a lot of things sitting on my chest,
and a certain type of comfort in uncertainty and not knowing.

I dig six feet deep to find the dedication,
and I put my hands together; connecting my fingers.
I can’t help it, I can’t find it, it seems my hesitation
has a will of it’s own, and it always lingers.

I’ve got a secret that lives in my head
no one knows of it, not even me.
It surfaces slow while I lie in my bed
I wish I could sleep peacefully.

Wind is biting my ear, my left side is ice cold,
I’ve turned numb; I’m not even tingling.
A lifetime of bronze and silver, finally received gold,
but to place around my neck; I’m still hesitating.

It’s been a starry, starry night,
with Rhone’s reflection shining bright
and our Irises connect and only ever see light.
Studying sorrow; pain vs. fear,
so I’ll sit back and contemplate for another year,
would you appreciate the sentiment of Van Gogh’s lost ear?

It will be while on the dryest island where I find my lungs filled with water.
It will be collapsed on ground when I finally stand,
and encased and embraced in ice when I start getting hotter.

Promises will be made
and secrets are kept,
you’re inside me as I’m flayed,
exposed and I feel in debt.
You know that I love you,
that I only think of you,
and no one is your equal let alone ever above you.

It’s been so long at Eternity’s Gate,
I missed the Almond’s Blossom; I was too late,
and The Potato Eaters complain with what is on their plate.
Studying sorrow; shame or a tear,
so I’ll sit back and contemplate for another year,
would you appreciate the sentiment of Van Gogh’s lost ear?

I’d jump to paint your shadow
or even draw your outline in chalk,
I’d drag myself behind you even if you were to allow
me the privilege alongside you to walk.

I can’t gurgle out a love filled poem today,
even though so many of you have been dedicating work to Valentines Day all week.
All I’ve been thinking is;
almost everyday I write a poem
for the girl I love with every inch of myself,
and she doesn’t even seem to know it’s her my words come to life for.
So today I take a stand,
‘cause who writes love poems
for the poets?

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

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

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

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

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

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

I’m the only one with dirt on my hands,
I’ve been crossing my fingers and snapping rubber bands.
And the fragments and pieces build into a story,
I transformed it to a thesis; the quality’s too low for me,
and I never set my expectations too high,
as should I, a lack of truth and abundance of lie.
My oh my and by the by.

There’s cracks in my ceiling and head,
there’s splinters in my skin and my bed,
there’s poison in the words I was fed.

I’m the only one missing pressure on my shoulders,
replaced the gentle weight with two heavy boulders.
I was wishing on satellites thinking they were stars,
breaking free from embraces thinking they were bars,
admiring fireflies not realizing they were cars
but I’m painfully aware of my own
scars.
I’m holding open seminars
to these memoirs of ours.

There’s cracks in my ceiling and shell,
there’s craters in my heart where I fell,
there’s holes in each story you tell.

Congratulations on your victory
it’s a shame the blood got on your clothes,
but each blade and pin you stick in me
will stain each and every thread anyone sews.
I hope that you are feeling proud
that you still have the power to wound,
as you want it known and shouted loud
“look at another thing I successfully ruined”

Go on and paint me as the villain,
just make sure that you’ve shaded well.
Every inch of the canvas is filled in,
express that story and scene that you wish to tell.
I’m not going to beg for mercy,
I’m not going to call you a hack.
I’m just sorry you see the worst in me,
if I was a mirror I’d be reflecting it back.

Well done on your gigantic win
I know the scene isn’t set exactly right,
ignore the blood, the guts and the skin,
we’ll have it cleaned by tomorrow’s first light.
Continue to embrace your golden moment,
though you didn’t have to work too hard.
Good fortune and a carefully picked opponent;
one who was already stressed and scarred.

Go on, cast me as an antagonist
but make it believable in each line.
Illustrate my hand holding a demand list,
but my other one has a white flag hidden behind.
I’m not going to plead for forgiveness
and I’m not searching for approval,
because when something is as vicious as this sickness
it’s a quick call for it’s removal.

This isn’t an invasion
it takes two sides to fight a war,
and you’ve given every clear indication
this is what you’ve been waiting for.
We don’t need bullets or guns,
we don’t need forces in the air or sea,
‘cause we’ve both got our mouths, and our tongues,
and a lot of repressed ancient history.

You call yourself a soldier of fortune,
you have no idea how right you are.
Even though you think you're fighting for something important,
you're marching for a rich man's new car.
Each bullet you shoot is a stock market spike,
and each victory is new land to claim.
To them you're a barcode or close to the like,
those you fight for don't bother to know your name.

History is written by the winners,
so don't trust the accounts you read.
The strings are all pulled by the sinners,
who wouldn't offer you a bandaid while you bleed.
You may give your life for the flag,
there's honour in that thought.
But they're using your morals to drag,
you and your platoon from spot to spot.
To shoot to **** and see what treasures they've got.

The industries fund each side of the war,
making life and death just a casual bet.
Ford provides the tanks for both just like before,
money spent with a return they're guaranteed to get.
Land's value is more than you know,
'cause the world ain't making anymore anytime soon.
So pick a spot on the globe and go,
and ship out the next loyal platoon.

History is written by the winners,
so always question what you hear.
Behind the scenes there's profiteers and grinners,
and you're seizing the power and resources they hold so dear.
You may give your life to protect,
every single man, woman and child,
but they're using you in retrospect,
and smuggling things in a corpse defiled.
Do they even glance at the bodies that they have piled?

The world's in trouble, there's no denying,
and each soldier has stayed true and loyal.
But at home the problem is double, you'd never know with their lying.
You can't fight your own men and thus you can't get the oil.

Just like every crime, you have to follow the paper trial,
it's no different this time, you're a victim of a government that seeks to fail.
They've made you into a collection agency,
one with guns to force a payment.
It's in plain sight so blatantly,
every person and country has to pay their rent.
For population control,
everyone has to pay the toll.

History is written by the winners,
so only one side gets to plead it's case.
Instead of helping the kids getting thinner,
evil gets a makeover and changes it's face.
I don't wish to shame anyone doing their duty,
I know you believe you're doing the right thing.
But what I'm saying, or eluding,
is they've turned war into business that's always profiting.
So before you put your uniform on,
ask who will benefit from this battle.
You might see the side you fight for is wrong,
and they're marching you to slaughter like cattle.

The real wars are at home,
but they want the heroes to roam,
No one to stop their own war crimes,
counting dollars, quarters, nickels and dimes.
They even call it a machine,
could it be more obvious what they mean?

I’m waiting in line, wasting my time
for things that won’t come, though they are mine.
Pretend that I’m fine, should I draw a line?
Don’t wish to run, but I think I’m just done.

Feelings I can’t shake, they keep me awake,
the list has increased, how much more can I take?
With so much at stake, I try not to break,
I miss the sun, but I think I’m just done.

With tired eyes
I’ll still see it through.
Exasperated sighs
in breaths I drew.
I broke the ties,
but I’ve got some glue.
Searching the skies
and looking for you.

I’m waiting so long, maybe I’m wrong
I can’t walk away; my legs aren’t that strong.
Alone in a throng, I still try to prolong,
but it never begun, and I think I’m just done.

The flowing tears
should extinguish the flame,
but it’s been years
and it still burns the same.
Doe eyes sees the fears
and treats it like a game,
then it all disappears
am I to blame?

I’ll wait forever, I’m not too clever,
passing me by, but never say never.
I can not severe this painful endeavour,
I’m always the one but I think I’m just done.

The Hallowe’en decor
has been put away for another year.
Christmas lights line each house and door,
illuminating every single tear.
The day of the dead has passed
but next holiday is one more for me,
since I’ve got the ghost of Christmas last
following me eternally.

Because you can’t weather proof against memories,
and you can’t keep grief from seeping through the windows.
The cold is the coldest of enemies
and it freezes you each time the wind blows.

The wind’s slapping at my face
and there’s a chill biting at my bones,
and in every snowflake; a feeling laced
“in our own arms we die”; all alone.
My mother was the spring,
just like it; she couldn’t stay very long.
The breath of fresh air she would bring
until her own breath wasn’t very strong.

Because you can’t weather proof against memories,
and you can’t keep grief from seeping through the windows.
The cold is the coldest of enemies
and it freezes you each time the wind blows.

No you can’t weather proof against memories,
and you can’t keep regret out of a locked door.
It has been that way for centuries
and it’ll be that way for centuries more.

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.

She sits on sandy banks,
the most beautiful sight one could see.
I give the universe endless thanks
for bringing and gifting her to me.
We’re a perfect paradise,
she’s always calmed me to breathe.
It paid off that she rolled the dice,
I know she’s not one for betting.

I can see stars looking out our window;
they illuminate us warm in our bed.
Through the screen I hear the wind blow,
it’s like a lullaby playing in my head.
“I love you more than you’ll ever know,”
You’re in my veins as the blood I’ve always bled.

Warming hands and pulling at shades,
rolling in white sands and waves, cascades.
Toppling over all the sand castles that were made,
brushing fingers on grassy patches; admiring every blade.

Watching the summer wind whip your hair to kiss your face
I start to begin to put them back into place,
before I declare that the act is just a waste
as natural perfection is one of your many traits.

There’s no lies and no regrets,
just those sweet summer sunsets
and those relaxed and easy breaths,
you are the best soul I’ve ever met.
And we were acting like there were whales in Wasaga beach,
who says there wasn’t baby, maybe they were just out of reach.

You know I saw this from miles away
planted my feet determined to stay,
you’re always searching for an answer,
blatant location: Tropic of Cancer,
I try to give direction but it’s something I can’t say.

So don’t go giving up on me
I try my best to make it all easy,
but you’re determined to house this burden,
even though it’s certain I’m the person,
who’s always around even when you can’t see.

I’ve got the patience of a saint and some,
and gained belief and knowledge from
what dreams may come.

Well we’ve discussed this and more
opened the lines and opened the door.
So divided and undecided,
why try to fight it when we can’t hide it,
you can’t go showing someone truth they’re not ready for.

I’ve got the time to wait in slum,
some would say I’m playing dumb
for what dreams may come.

I’ll keep living under heavy thumb,
trying to convince myself I’m numb
to what dreams may come.

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

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

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