Shifting in the dark…
Yet the light is on
Is the dark light?
Or is this light dark?

Words both made by man
These two things are life
Neither has definition
Both are determined by the sun

There is no dark, or life
Only a process of constant space
Turning to the suns who hunger
And this world is meat

Soon enough, drawn within
This fire will soon devour
Not in this time or ours
Perhaps change will tell

Time is just a word as well
For this change is all it is
And our, our time is short
Yet the suns will live on…

Oh so I guess it was infected
On so many levels

Probably my fault for loving
an angel ****** Scorpio
who gives ******* like a greasy exhaust pipe

who swaps ****** fluid
like a last ditch transfusion for a cure
done in an ally in Mexico

I thought you could save me with your shameless passion
The vibrating underwear at dinner
The dare to straight face in public

You were *****
And you were *****
And I was trying to make a mess
So cleaning myself up might look drastic

You were an adventure I can’t shake

The kind of adventure you can’t catch twice
Until you catch it twice

I have been told
Learning is a change in behavior
Learning is finding ways to not make the same mistake
Over
And over

Clearly
I am still learning

Still infected with
With the self-inflicted wrong decisions
Of loving people who don’t love me back
And filling holes
With the parts of myself that are designed to do that
Hoping mine will be filled too

I’ve put a pillow in my open chest wound
So you might still think it’s safe to lay there
So you won’t hear the heartbeat race of hope
That things won’t hurt so much later
Won’t feel like a film on my skin that doesn’t wash away
When I watch you leave me in the morning
And all I want to do is beg you to stay

Stay and pretend this is real a little longer
I’ve never been one to tear band-aids from wounds quickly
I pick scabs
I have scars
I am ugly
And I am still learning
Still trying different ways

To love healthy

So yeah,
I guess this is infected

listen i want to tell you something
i want to tell you through merest
weakly stupid body of human rind
my whole self; i want to say every
part of me and i want you to hear its
stinging divine crescendo and i want
to ****** it sharply into your heart
where i hope that even if it doesn't
always make sense it doesn't need
to 'cause that's just me that's all of
me and nothing

Why do we hurt others?
Is it because we've been hurt so many times?
Or because we want them to feel what we feel?
The anger that builds up inside us,
Is it there because we don't let it out?
Or because it has no where to go?
Why does it give people pleasures when others pain?
Do we choose what we want?
Is this all just a game?
I like to keep it inside,
Turning me mad and weak.
What do you do with your hurt?
Is it something you seek?
Fine, hurt others the way you hurt yourself.
But when everyone is full of pain and anger,
There will be no one to ask for help.