Afflictions of the past
wrapped in the world of chaos
and cramped in a cave

Dream with the gun
Next to your temple
Let it’s barrel be that of a lover’s touch
Let it’s trigger awake a thousand stars
And when your tears drain scarlet
Remember
You are simply one of many
That none would listen to

Dream with the gun
Next to your heart
Every ache
And misperception
Through a hollow chest shall resonate
A beating indicator
That will fall silent
In the shadows of yonder

Dream with the gun
Next to your hands
For opportunity is like the dawn
Her rosy fingers playing
She will call when ready
And all must answer her salute
Blacked eyes and hollow dreams
All for the taking

Dream with the gun
Next to you
Sharp metallic scent
Cold promises
Yet retribution
And upon the night
When so many refuse to acknowledge
Sleep.

Now my clothes are stained with the memory's of the boys that took them off.

The ones that never bothered to learn my middle name.

And I never found out their favourite colour...

just that deep smelling rose
just that little stolen kiss
just the holding hands
just you being here

and

thank you for the red balloon

Regretting something said or done
In sobriety
While ******.
Mostly social interactions I suppose
Things I think I shouldn't speak,
Maybe its just me.
Why can't I see the common line
That divides this communal collective
Of what's generally perceived as
Normal.
Maybe its just not in me.
And maybe something's
                                                          Missin­g.
Like its
                 Not
                             Quite
     ­                                       T h e r e .
But nowhere else,
Either.
So maybe if you make me a
Map
Of the way humans should stay on path
I should take it
Like everyone else but I'm gonna have to
Pass on that
Because it would still only be just
As useless as the next thing
Or other
Neither will stitch the pathways like veins
To a translucent permeable
Sieve of a person
Cause these preset standards and demands
Are too much to ask for
The place of blood in these
Hollow vessels.
I should know,
See I've bled myself dry.
I'll scratch at my scars when they itch
But I'll ditch your insistent opinion about it,
Cause I don't need that ****,
Don't need nothin' and not needed.
Just stuck in between lines
On this compass of life
The clock of time
And the lines in my skin.
Wearing the world with
Mirrors for eyes.
Stare in all you like
There's nothing behind
But the knowing I'll never fully describe
Anything to anyone
In a way that is what I mean;
It isn't words that fail me,
But my unfathomable capacity to
Comprehend at all, and if I
Were to conceive a consciousness
Could I ever really communicate to you?
I don't think so, but
I won't ever know.
...
I wonder what sober me
Would say right now.