I wish I could live in a bar of a song
Lost in that blissful movement of notes
Until i vibrate out of existence, drunk on the euphoria of sound.

Sometimes I feel like a night blooming flower
Wilting in the daylight sun
Drying up
Flaking from scorching expectation
Hot stares making me close up in side
Burrow into myself till there is no distinction between myself
and others
A placid mirror regurgitating the mockery
Like a parrot dancing to its reflection
Only to bloom beautiful in the light of night
Where eyes can no longer be so cruel and the sunlight of society can not reach me.
The cool completeness of myself greets me like a lover that come daylight I don't want to let go.

The older I get the more cynical my mind becomes
The little pleasures are the only thing keeping me from stepping into the gaping pit of depression
Brush in paint,
Book in lap,
Napping
These small things create a foundation of peace
Simplicity I never thought I'd need it this much.

The suns up I'm down again on that auto pilot drag
Running on the low hum of exhaustion
Class, homework, and work again the cyclical structure burned into the back of my retina
Eyes hanging in the ever state of caffeine compulsion
Falling the dead weight of a ten pound footfall
Were every moment is a count down to when I can get to sleep again.

Its futile in this world it seems
To make a living
You have to dig yourself deeper into the pit
One loan at a time
One payment behind
One soul away from dying
Forever in debt to the government....
Such is the life of the student...

In the length between this breath and the next
My mind is pleading for rest, the exhaustion of the day to day
Has me spinning in a bleary haze
Flitting like an angry fly
I walk the ever thinning line, of work the home and the school time rhyme
My enemy has become the daily grind
The ever beating poet heart is not meant for this selfish lot
A world of selfies, tongue painted lies, and the plastic smell of whats inside
More money, more things, of things that are me me me
Anything to stifle the yawning calamity
The holes of neglect betwixt the heart
That panicked feeling of being lost.
An offer of empathy becomes a cry for attention
For the love of God check your pretension
There is whole planet of suffering people
But not for them do you become the steeple
The narcissism that infects the youth makes me wonder what little world is left for the few.

Why is it that we seek the ephemeral, when we are so grounded in reality?
The plight of man is to suffer the walk between worlds
Knowing the reach of the atomic bond wistfully longing to embrace something beyond
With knowledge, application, and dreams
Man ultimately stays unrest
Somewhere between the heart and the chest.