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

As I slide on through the wet pavement,
the puddles don't vibrate or shake.
The rain doesn't stall, the drops continue their fall,
each splash pushes my cracks to break.

As I sit under a dark blanket of stars,
I reach out into only empty air.
No one passes by, I don't catch a single eye,
I'm plagued and cursed but can't bring myself to care.

A reward for my lost mind,
a rainbow for the colourblind,
emptiness fills to the core.
Hectic routine clearly outlined,
lip bit and my teeth grind,
I've been hiding in a metaphor.

While I sail through the sky with no safety net,
no bird seems worried for my form,
they don't even blink, they just watch on as I sink,
and they're ready and anxious for my body to swarm.
I always was known as a storm.

A reward for my lost mind,
a rainbow for the colourblind,
emptiness fills to the core.
The sun never showed or shined,
it was stuck, chained in a bind,
I've been hiding in a metaphor.

Once walked along each path
with only untied shoes,
and I felt heartbreak's wrath,
and the old lovers blues,
got the brittle in each bone
and my spine's growing weak,
in the end we all die alone,
but I witnessed a smile in each beak.

A reward for my lost mind,
a rainbow for the colourblind,
emptiness fills to the core.
A mute that never signed,
A soul too late to find,
I've been hiding in a metaphor.

Into the shadows I blend,
never to see light again,
I've been holding doors to my metaphors for you.
Into the shadows I blend,
one day the dark will be a trend,
I've been holding doors, hands covered in sores for you.

Oh I was on fire that night,
now the stars blur in my sight,
I've been holding doors to my metaphors for you.
You know I'm here just like I was then,
I will be there when you come again,
I've been dying and crying on hardwood floors for you.

There's no simile to describe me,
no comparing or analogy,
just one white blank page.
There's no simile to describe me,
no imagery or allegory,
just one lonely cage.

They found the shattered remains of my head and brain,
scattered around my bed in crystals and in grains,
shining red and white like broken candy canes,
Marked it down as evidence, A to Zed and back again.

Bring me back to breathing, today or tomorrow,
twenty hours of dreaming, nightmares of only sorrow.
Inevitable fall from grace, blood splattered on my face,
but a smile still shining when I turn down second place.

Rip out my changing eyes, I choose to go blind.
So many restless sighs, in this white noise mind.
Rip out my babbling tongue, the messages you will not find,
too many songs unsung, in this white noise mind.

You make the signs and I'll take direction,
keep feeding lines, it only increases infection.
I find my teeth to grind, biting down on affection,
that you tangle and bind, leave it in an unmarked section.

Take my burning ears, they listen far too kind.
So many haunting fears, in this white noise mind.
Take my shaking hands, they're locked and intertwined.
Nothing to understand, in this white noise mind.

I only see bright red stop lights,
they line my way, they trace my nights,
they always stay, don't leave my sight.

So take my silent heart, rib cage is too confined.
Rip all organs apart, leave behind a white noise mind.

She bruises easily,
she says “I don’t know why.”
“I’m like the monarchy,
they just won’t let me die.”
She pinches at her skin,
“do you see what I mean?”
It’s almost paper thin,
transparent and clean.

She comes up from the dirt,
born just ready to die.
Tugs and tears at her shirt,
fixes the cloth like a tie.
Changing each mask
within each new realm
and yet she still asks,
“Who put Bella in the Wych Elm?”

Wishing for the end
since around ‘96,
calling the reaper a friend,
“there’s no problem he can’t fix.”
“I had it all but at what cost?
I see no familiar face.”
“Every person I know is lost,
in life’s dreadful marathon race.”

She comes up from the dirt,
born just ready to die.
Grits teeth against the hurt
and keeps her eyes on the sky.
Still she juggles her tasks
and she steers at the helm,
and yet she still asks
“Who put Bella in the Wych Elm?”

Wind is whispering my name,
calling me back to the depths of the dark.
I'll be there all the same,
looking to play the part and make my mark.
With all pain I've felt,
it's time to finally set the stage.
Live with the cards that are dealt,
start a new chapter and turn the page.

My life is loneliness at best,
even when surrounded by another soul,
and that feeling crushes my chest,
I forgot the price but I paid the toll.
You're here, and I'm there, when close there's still distance,
feeling fear, it's only fair, at least it is in this instance.

My skin, my skin is cold as ice.
I'll jump in, and make the same mistake twice.
It's a sin, but the sin feels so nice.
Who will clip our wings?

The dark and ***** street,
the one I used to see as home,
they still greet my feet,
but different paths I seem to roam.
With all the pain I've seen,
it's time to now roll the credits.
But I ignored the picture on the screen,
or maybe I just wanted to forget it.

Your lips, your lips are paradise,
I'll jump in, and make the same mistake twice.
It's a sin, but I've never claimed to be Christ.
Who will clip our wings?

I caught a butterfly, I kept it trapped within a jar,
it soared to the lid; it wasn't high, I never let it go too far.
I caught a butterfly, I wished for it to be my pet,
but without fresh air it was bound to die, a lesson I still forget.

I caught a butterfly, she was grazing over green grass,
together we watch time go by, together we see the days pass.
I caught a butterfly, to this day I still thank my net,
but with too much sun it's wings will fry, a lesson I still forget.

Life is not meant to be,
lived out as on display,
as that butterfly was once me,
now it's another's soul today.

I caught a butterfly, fresh out of her cocoon,
she barely chanced to fly, she never glimpsed sun nor the moon.
I caught a butterfly, I believed it was luck that we met,
but wings waving can mean hello or goodbye, a lesson I still forget.

Life is not meant to be,
locked up and put away,
it belongs with the air of a tree,
under blue skies or grey.

I caught a butterfly, I was excited to show everyone,
what you can grasp if you try, what can actually be done.
I caught a butterfly, and it's life's days are now just a bet,
I can't even look myself in the eye, it's a lesson I can't forget.

Life is not meant to be,
observed from far away,
we all deserve to live free,
and free we all should stay.

When Winter hits I'll be wishing I was still young,
but when Summer's around I'm still biting my tongue.
We both know that the storms have always been mine,
I never claimed to be blue skies and sunshine.

Atleast the nights are almost always cold,
but they keep me warm with the beauty of the stars.
Shining wishes for all, or so I'm told,
accessories for both Jupiter and Mars.

The snow covers all with blinding white,
but in the Summer the grass could always be more green.
We both know the storms have always been mine by rite,
'cause the blue skies were never truly clean.

You know every four season,
time has never moved so fast.
They've all blended for no reason,
never disappearing but they never last.
The world turns, the moon shines,
The sun burns, Nature's designs.

When Winter hits I'll be wishing I was still young,
but when Summer's around it still seems Spring never sprung.
We both know the storms we're always made for me,
I have always been the rain and you the sea.

You know every four season,
time has never moved so fast,
freezing to death when I let the breeze in,
and the outcome never matches the forecast.
The world turns, the moon shines,
and everyone yearns, everyday for some signs.

I told a story as a Roman a clef
for years the conflict plagued my mind,
I confessed that I've always been half deaf,
but you showed me that I was also blind.
How many jumps did I fail to leap?
How many catches left me with open arms?
I lost count when auditing the sheep;
I wish they'd just remain in their barns.

Unfortunately for poor me
I am cursed to never forget.
It's torturing to know what could've been,
if the future just had the stones set.
I'm nocturnal, banned from sleep
and I dread every new dawn.
It's so diurnal counting the sheep
'cause they just keep moving on.

You burned a bible for a statement of stand
for days my mind peaked at the thought,
so I examined every single grain and sand
and never questioned why the surroundings were so hot.
My tongue can tell a thousand lies
but my eyes and cheeks will always tell the truth,
for we share a mind while we share the skies,
to the elder seas from the drops of our youth.

Unfortunately for poor me
I am cursed to never forget.
The earth is scorches as far as the eye can see
and my dear the sun has permanently set.
I'm nocturnal, banned from sleep
and the pillow cases are mismatched and wrong.
I'm drowning in these thoughts so deep
and rewriting sentences that are far too long.

It's always easier to pretend it was nothing
than to ever admit it was everything.
I went from swimming in luxury to a life I've been roughing,
I've went from hearing birds to hating the bell's ring.
But that's all packed up in a box I labeled fragile,
and in smaller writing "never open again."
And the insomnia increases my headaches and stomach bile,
when all is broken where do you find the time to mend?

Unfortunately for poor me
I am cursed to never forget.
My new addiction is now gambling
on the one place I should never place my bet.

I find ways to jump start my heart,
as it hasn't been the same since you've torn it apart.
Meryl Streep wins the Oscars, but it's I that presents,
making a comedy out of a life of torment.
I've been at the end of my rope for so very long,
that I've tied multiple knots to test if it's strong.
I ended up with burned palms and scratched off fingertips,
I now have an excuse as to why I can't get a grip.

Now a days I question if I've become a mute, or if I just have nothing to say.
I wear disaster like a tailored suit, that on my bed every morning you lay.
Pick out the best tie, to match my eyes, to choke and strangle my life away,
and shine the shoes, that kick to bruise, but never lead my form to stray.

Keep the blades away from my hands, I want to slice off my ears,
not like Van Gogh's beautiful stand, just tired of annoyances I hear.
I'm sorry that my misery in these pages can't be scrubbed clean, they just will not doff.
Face to face, you'd think me on the Silver Screen, I guess those acting classes paid off.

A schizophrenic lullaby, a portrait that beauty paints with a lie.
A lonely, clear blue peaceful sky, constantly raining beyond the naked eye.
A confusing truth at very best, pushing sweet words down with the rest.
An undeserving, agonizing test, to determine if I'm worth room in your chest

I see you everywhere but beside me,
the one place that I need you the most.
I don’t know if you’ve just felt like hiding,
but it feels like I’m being stalked by a ghost.
I think of my life consisting of just time biding,
with parasitic emptiness and I’m the host.
This hits me like waves I am meant to be riding,
and it follows me persistently from coast to coast.

The grass didn’t seem so green back then
I guess all that constant rain did pay off,
‘cause now this little future’s just a casual friend,
and my god looking back the past was soft.
It’s not like I always want to be drenched in sorrow,
I find I look much better in brown, blue or grey,
you know I’d trade in every tomorrow
for just one more yesterday.

I hear every voice but yours in my ears,
the deafening noise has made me forget that sound,
since I’ve heard that sweet melody it’s been too many years,
and every other pitch makes my static brain pound.
I’m always biting my lip but now I’m fighting tears,
I shake my head side to side and around.
I’m quickly losing stamina from battling my fears
and now looking forward to my hole in the ground.

The skies never seemed clear and blue back then,
it turns out that I was the creator of each cloud,
I’m hoarding past calendars so that I can pretend
that I’m back in time and making everyone else proud.
If you’ve got a hour or two that I can borrow,
I swear I’m good for it and whatever price; I’ll pay,
‘cause you know I’d trade in every tomorrow
for just one more yesterday.

I feel you all over, laced in everything,
if it wasn’t such a curse, it’d be a gift.
You’re the peace in winter and the hope in spring,
you’re the summer sun and autumn’s winds so swift.
I’m relieving every memory, looking for a place to cling,
I remember all of the details but the clarity is now adrift.
Side to side, back and forth, I constantly swing,
it pulls and drags me down but it can also give the highest lift.

The sun never seemed to shine right back then,
but maybe I was just too busy looking for artificial light.
I was never one for second looks but I should’ve searched again,
because everything I wanted was already in my sight.
So I plant a seed hoping it will eventually grow
and I sculpt all I wish for with clay,
‘cause you know I’d trade in every tomorrow
for just one more yesterday.

How do you sleep at night?
Are the blankets pulled too tight?
Is the room ever just too bright,
or do you find it fits just right?

And how do you get through the day?
When there’s so much you never say?
When the colours bleed to grey,
or do you like it just that way?

I’ve been playing scrabble with each thought,
cursed to babble ‘cause I was never taught
to speak out loud what plagues my heart
It’s not like I’m proud that it ends before I start.

How do you sleep at night?
Does your mind put up a fight?
Do you loathe every ray of light,
or is it out of mind and out of sight?

And how do you get through the day?
Tornado’s in your wake and at bay.
Casting me to the abyss to stay,
as long as you choose that way.

I’ve been playing scrabble with each thought,
known to dabble in whatever I got.
Doing things so foul I would never do,
to buy a vowel and then another two.

How do you sleep at night?
I put up such a gallant fight.
Bleeding knuckles, holding on with all my might.
You’re asleep and I’m greeting first light.

Lying in your arms,
the light bouncing off your skin.
Pressing snooze on all my alarms,
Baby, we should be sleeping in.
Only you can gift the sun
and together we bask in the rain.
You’re naturally my only one,
you effortlessly exist and heal all my pain.

I wish to free up more space
for you; forever in my mind,
‘cause it’s such a messy place,
I don’t want you ever to be confined.
I want to write calligraphy on your skin,
illustrate every word I want to write for you.
Sail my fingertips up, down, around, out and in,
and on your gentle curves I’ll follow the map I drew.

You’ve got the eyes of the stars,
and your lips; as crucial as the air.
Combined warmth of the Sun and Mars,
and a heart of gold, but more valuable and more rare.
Only you can make a void gleam,
I’ve never loved anyone as I love you.
Darling, you’ve always been my dream,
and God, did my dream come true.

I wish to free up more space
for you; forever in my mind,
to memorize each feature of your face,
a more beautiful sight you’ll never find.
I want to write calligraphy on your skin,
illustrate every word I want to write for you,
and when I finish, again I’ll begin,
‘cause each and every time it still feels new.

Her sparkling shooting star eyes
stripped and read down to my soul,
I wonder how did she find a prize,
in what once felt like an engulfing hole?
Our thoughts meet eachother
and dance up in that invisible air.
Just us two, never another,
and I am already waiting there.

I wish to free up more space
for you; forever in my mind.
Any other thought feels like a waste,
another view and I might aswell be blind.
I want to write calligraphy on your skin,
illustrate every word I want to write for you.
Trail my fingertips to trace, caress, drag and spin,
deciphering each inch, fibre and clue.