on those days we spent weaving
into each other on my mattress
perhaps we were writhing we just didn't know

we didn't have to care

if we let the summer fall into
the blue someone else would
haul it out
and resuscitate

the days we just let our phones ring
and wore the song to bed
beneath nothing
but our laughter thicker than my duvet

i guess i'm lucky i can be heartbroken
for a reason
i was heartbroken for so many reasons none
of which i can place or replace

on the wall where the sun tore our photos
into ribbons of shadow
we made the mistake of holding each other
too close
to the light

was i always warm or just aware that you were near me
i'm a rusted furnace with nothing but bones to burn
apparently
there's always a better fire burning in another town

They say I'm self-centered.
I say, I'm made in the image of God,
this is what He intended.

Recently, the sun hasn't risen the way it used to.
Instead I've found birds singing only to the moon like wolves crying out in the night.
I don't know what we did to turn ourselves into Nightwalkers.
But I know I can run my fingers through your hair and it'll touch me like dragon glass.

To say I haven't slept in years, is dramatic.
But so is writing poems at 2am about someone you'll never be quite strong enough to forget.

I'm rambling, because that's what I do. That's how my thoughts come through... have I told you about the abandoned waterfall inside me?
How since I last saw you all it's rivers ran dry?
They've been empty for years, but at least with you there was one or two storms that'd pass by.

I know this feeling will soon fade away. And still I will regret nothing except for all the things I put on you.
All the things I needed you to be.
I'm sorry I tried to acquaint you with my demons.
I forgot you had your own, waging war in your battlefield shaped mind.
I guess I was hoping you could tame mine.
I guess I was hoping I could tame yours.

I guess I put a lot of hope into just another bottomless chasm.

This noose around my neck is getting looser as I step beyond the line of what's been said I know my mind now must be dead cause I can finally go to bed. 

My body's inept.
My soul has wept.
And I have crept'
Outside the hole inside the ground
The devil's laugh was the only sound.

My heart is finally on a cloud
And it'll never come back down.

Take my crown
Hold me down
Don't let me break free from inside the cage of this disease that I deny is apart of me.
Who holds the key?
Tell them to burn it
I'll never earn it
...
Now how do I word this?
What is our purpose?
Why am I nervous
To jump from the surface
Of my cursed devoted path of living past the horrid mask
Into the open
Into the ocean
Of current events
Of paying rent
To hide inside a body made of broken ribs and shattered hands through cluttered pots and pans
Pots and pans
Pots and pans
Pots and pans
I'LL CALL UPON THE SON OF MAN
BEFORE I REACH THE PRECIPICE OF MY DEMISE
Into the southern skies

A toucan flies to rest on a thought,
Branches reaching towards my heart.
Carcasses of childhood memories filled rooms with
Doors locked from the inside.
"Evacuate the premises, nothing to see here" a sign reads
Forlorn and tainted, stitched into the side of my psyche
Graves engraved with unsaid prayers.
Is life an option, when all I feel is the weight of my
Heavy, unrested eyes?
Jeopardize my future.
**** my hopes and dreams.
Living with
Manic Depression
Never allows the reassurance of stability
Or survival within the ocean of sentiment.
Parking lots outside the windows of my soul hold drunk spirits
Quarreling under a street light, broken beer bottles as their words.
Room for one more troubled soul?
Sure, come on in, 've poured so much of myself into people and
They still see the glass as half empty.
Uncrown me of my halo and tie it like a noose around my neck.
Veiled threats of "it'll get better" and "this too shall pass"
When? There's no pill for who you are.
X marks the spot doesn't it?
Yeah, sure.
Zoos hold less animals than the inside of my head.

An inferiority complex means you are always wrong, even when you're right.
It means in a room full of people you will be just another shadow.
It means no matter how loud your voice is, you'll never be heard.
It means when it's your turn to talk and someone else takes it from you, you let them have it because they have more important things to say.
When they are mad at you for no good reason, you will apologise for everything you've ever done because you know it was the wrong thing to do.
Who are you to live boldly?
Who are you to take the sword instead of the sheild?
To take a stand instead of your worn out seat?
Who are you to be yourself in a crowd of strangers?
These people do not want you.
You do not belong.
You will never be good enough and you will remind yourself of this everytime you try to make an effort to be something special.
Because you come from voices that have been lost in the wind.
You come from leftovers discarded in the trash.
You come from abandoned cities.
You come from empty homes.
You come from nothing ever acclaimed enough to stay around for.
You are reminded of this in crowds.
You are reminded of this in deserts.
You are reminded of this in the company of your own most cherished relationships.
You are the needed silence to voices more impregnable than your beating heart.
Your walls are not to be destroyed, because no one wants to see the wreckage inside the desolate castle.
No one wants to hear about the kings who have conquered your land only to find it wasn't worth the trounce.
Rulers will not even mention their triumph over your kingdom, for it will trivialise their feats.
An inferiority complex means you will fall vulnerable to anyone even remotely salient.
You will remain in the peripheral vision of history.
You will live and die on the fringes of society.