Cold, cold hands.
These hands of mine...
Cold with red.



I carry a burden.
Such a heavy burden.
I bury this burden-I bury deep.
So, so deep.



As I drive, I feel relief.
My mind is wandering from place to place-
from thought to thought.
...I swirve.
Hitting a tree is not what I need right now,
or is it?



Maybe it would be better if I no longer existed.
I'm quite awful, really.
I lie to people very often-
no remorse.



Nah, maybe not.
Just keep on driving.
That's what I should do.
Exactly what I should do.



Home.
Home feels so wonderous.
I need my bed...but I shall retire to the couch tonight.
My sheets are awfully messy.



Pit pat,
ratta tat.
Knock knock,
it's twelve o' clock.



I answer the door,
and I find a man in uniform.
"Do you know the whereabouts of this woman?"
She looked very familiar...



"No, oh no, my, my, no, no."
I answer with earnest.
"That will be all, sir".
Men in blue.
Never leaving me alone.



I feel they like me.
I wonder why?



Night time again.
Oh, I love the night.
I don't love this woman, though.
She lays on my bed, naked.
Some girl from a bar-
she wants to lose her inhibitions with me.



What she doesn't realize is...
I'm losing mine with her.



I tell her to close her eyes.
She obliges.
I walk softly over to her.
Slowly, slowly.



I feel her body with my hand...
I feel absolute power within my palm.
Bliss runs through my body-
I end her.

Now I have another burden for the night.
It's no real problem, honestly.
I'll just take her where I dump all of my other burdens.
Hopefully I won't be too tired to lift her.



She's pretty light, anyways.

I held the music down with everything I had
Tried to contain it in my soul
Still those notes wandered out winding round
Every piece of me
They could hold

Tried hard not to listen to that which I love
Walked down a path, new to me
Still my first love, I kept, within my heart so dear
To my roots, I held on
Helplessly

I cannot hold the music down, no matter how I try
Music,  is in the soul of me
My very essence is controlled by a melody
I sing, each time
I breathe

Lyrical expression flows through my veins
Music dances in my poetry
Harmony will be found one day when I sing
The words, I write
And breathe

Dear heart

stop taking things so
seriously,

I have three fourths a
mind that likes how you're around and
a stuck twenty five bent on
shutting you down before
inside (and I'm trying) out loud with
count to two, one is familiar but
(water thinks) so are you after the
rain comes and white-washes us
clean

but white isn't neat, who says red isn't
true and the two next-best colors aren't
yellow and blue? It appears as though
wisdom (seen through a blank lens) is
only now starting to shift shades and
blend in the hues of the thoughts of the
heart's hidden song

to think some folks can't find
a place to belong!

A head
A giant boney mass
Many mouths and eyes
           thoroughly babbling,
           whatever,
           etc.
Snapping and blinking
Mouths Melded together on this ultra cranium
Yapping on and on
On and on and on
Yellowed teeth and bedazzled grills
Botnet mods and crop tools

The most dastardly of all -
An infinite production of fuzzy,
Buzzing noise blobs.
And Attempts to add me
To its mass connection-collection head
Leave me offended.

"What's on your mind?"

Go away.
You ******* freakazoid.

Puzzled by your too sudden disappearance,
I sat in your dim little room
trying to put the pieces together.
Sifting through the past week
trying to find something strange
you had said.
I kept coming up blank.
After sifting though each conversation twice
I dug deeper into the past.
My memory never did let me down.
Deeper.
Deeper
I kept digging and sifting through
the past 3 weeks of conversations.
Then after sitting for hours
on your made-up bed
it hit me.
In each little coversation
of the weeks,
there was a different flicker in your eye.
A change in your voices tone
and a shift in your body language.
You'd been building up to this.
You had planned it
and I didn't realise.
I should've known.

I then noticed your bed was made
and you never made it
unless you weren't coming back...

You
were in the headlines
of every local newspaper
and on the lips
of every local
evening newsman
just the very next day.

Missing teen found dead at the bottom of a cliff.
Family and friends swamped the lookout earlier today.

They say you fell...
But I know you jumped.

So selfish, so grabby so needy
Take take take
filling me with I owe yous I'm told are good for so much.
But they're not. You skip town, go bankrupt, need a bailout.
Leave me empty, pockets heart and soul.
God my soul.
You painted it so white it shined.
You poisoned me.
Make it appear so deadly clean, I should've seen right through it.
You taped my broken bones back so crudely
But my heart you held the tightest.
So tight you crushed it in your hands and scattered it to the wind as you ran away.
The heart you gave me was counterfeit.
fake, phony, flimsy.
Made of paper and glue, I could tear it apart and you wouldn't feel a thing.
Not one tear.
So selfish. So afraid for yourself.
All the ******* time.

I'm looking for a Neurotic Girl
someone who will break down before I do
someone who's not afraid to cry,as the tea kettle boils,
after telling me about her problems.
Someone I can worry about,and do unselfish things for, and offer some comfort to,
someone who depends on me for a change.
I'm looking for a girl
who isn't too confident in herself,even though she's wonderful,
at least in my eyes.
Someone who hasn't got her entire life sorted out, just yet.
Someone who'll realise that I can be a nice person, behind the facade.

Because these days I'm wandering
from party to party
from pointless
city centre venues
and all-too-familiar and contemptible
small town social haunts
and all I see and hear
are the attention-seeking, the unreachably friendly, the distant
and the involved
All swimming in mediocrity
If you'll pardon the fake sophistication of that last metaphor
And all I'm left to do
is wonder what it would be like
to find someone
who I could be Introspective,
Debauched and Nihilistic with
A nice Neurotic Girl.

But I suppose that would invariably lead
to some sort of responsibility
in my otherwise self-absorbed existence
I would have to pretend that I am a proper kind of person
for the sake of my fragile lover's much needed feeling of security
I would take it upon myself
to go out into the world
to keep a sort of balance for the both of us
spending headache-inducing hours
with people whom I cant stand
while she sits at home
and smokes
in bed.