It hits in a spiritual, delirious way
the taste of blood is the only reminder
of how much I enjoy the pain

I crashed the car and I lived
I roamed the highway searching for your ghost
only to find it moved on long ago

We travelled 500 miles in this chase
for euphoria; the few signs on the way
urging us to follow separate paths

You're gone and I'm trapped
within this memory, a period of stasis
Cursing the alleged 'free road'
that brought us to this standstill.

(You never were one to take a risk,
always pausing to play it safe)

These selfish lights refuse to shift
throwing us back to different ends
of the spectrum once again

Yet I'm pulsing red, devilish hues
for you for you for you

If I could, I would crash all over again
But your lips are the only collision I need
and I was never one to wear a seat-belt

It wasn't her fault as far as I know
I made it not alive out her womb
Not the drugs, not her liquor,No
I was just destined for my tomb

It wasn't her choice I took this route
Tell her train of depression not to hoot
It wasn't her making to be that small
She's a special mama, among them all

It couldn't be father's fault, It's fate
Yes, let her not love the man with hate
I know I should have been her first
But she shouldn't think she's cursed

Tell her to give motherhood another try
I know she thinks it was a 9 months' lie
Wipe her tears please, don't let her cry
It wasn't her making for me to die

Steal her sorrow, I'll pay the fine
Do all you can to see she's fine
She can have another to wear
& dine
In all treasures she says were mine

Give my mama joy, God set her free
You know she's barely twenty three
I bleed seeing how bad she's broken
Yes, give her a child, another token

Sad or Happy
Fine or ******
Loved or hated
Lazy or dedicated
Still or dynamic
Warm or poikilothermic
Fresh or stifled air
Nature doesn't care
Stars are going to glow
Your spirits high or low
Rivers will still flow
With winters come snow
And for summer we know
The winds will always blow
Birds will fly and tire
Nothing outshine's desire
But even that everlasting flame
Dies and leaves ash of blame
A new day will come, sun will rise
With expectations we open our eyes
Set new plans, hands on the guns
Aluta continua, be it monks or nuns
The roads of yesterday forgotten
And new ones at present trodden
Some will walk some will drive
Others stuck while some arrive
It's everyday's common tune
Be it January or june
A poet will rhyme,singers'll sing
Provoke a bee, It's gonna sting
Some live to die, some die to live
can't stay forever,some point we'll leave
Such is strife but strife is life
Unless It's the afterlife  
The dusk will come to fight the dawn
Returning to daily *** or daily ****
You play the chess, you move a pawn
Some hearts are mended,others torn
You was a kid, but soon you've grown
With a brother now, soon he's gone
It's the way the clock of nature works
With no insulator to avoid her shocks

I am just a little blip on the radar of life
not entirely certain why i'm there
but yet I made enough of an impact
for the radar to pick me up.

But then i'm gone.

Gone as quickly as I came,
all promises broken,
all ties severed,
all hope destroyed,
as I am no more.

I am nothing more than the lines I used to draw on my wrist.
I am nothing more than the words that bleed onto my page.
Not to be shared with anyone
except my own tortured self.

But yet I come back,
I always come back
with desperate hope that
things will be different.
They have to be.

But i'm always a mess
a girl in her best dress
that hates with a passion
the amount of times I change.
Down down down I go,
falling endlessly.

I will leave
and i'll be back.
Spinning in this endless dance
of confused passions,
and all these little lights on the radar
mark my disappearance.

The leaves fall off the vine
crinkled and brown
and so very dry
that they crunch under footsteps
of strangers walking together.

Those trees over there are thin
the branches are so brittle
and the grass beneath has died off
for there's no shade
and the sun is too hot.

And the crater in the ground
was once a lake
but those streams dried up
leaving stones and debris
to rest in the dust.

Those strangers' bodies scream for water
that no longer exists
with trembling hands
they grab hold
as the wasteland claims another.

With one less person
they walk away from the sun
that beats on their heads
that hang so low
from this wicked, cruel, abuse.

Quantification
We enjoy the numbers game
Everyone loses.