I can feel an illuminating void growing within me.
Meaningless teardrops pierce through my eyes,
like divine daggers.
The heathers are all plucked and
the deal is far overlooked.
Life truly is, the wild nothing.
Void of all emotion, carefully humming the tune of uncertainty.
For we seek the truth of an unknown.
I am my own handcuffs.
Do not try to unfold my mind, as you see,
there is a lock that has no key.
I am a stairway that leads nowhere.
Rejection is second nature to me.
You are everything, and I am only nothing.
Where I am from, souls no longer exist, and nothing matters.
I can smell you’re scent in my room,
but I will no longer breathe for you.
The stillness in your heart,
is where our secrets fall apart.
I will no longer breathe for you..

I am reminded of myself when I watch the daylight.
Captured by each evening, it slowly closes its eyes,
and hides its face.

I keep driving down that dimly lit road with tired eyes.
Riding with the chariot, as I listen to your distant cries.
I keep thinking there will be a different ending to this story.
That there will be a part of me to which you cannot withstand.
But only to carry on with the reality that these are merely thoughts,
scribed on my hand.

I don’t hang pictures on my walls.
I don’t think I deserve to be loved.
For I am not worth any love.
So just turn me to ashes,
and let me fly with the sashes.
Oh I’ve grown tired of hope.

Time is only a bottle of sand.
If you have any last words for me,
just write it on my hand.
Beneath your tattoos and lockets,
I write notes to you and keep them hidden in my pockets.
I believe if you truly love something, you should give it away.
So yes, I think I’ll keep my hands in my pockets.

Today I woke up on the shoreline,
more dead than usual.
The sea salt still in my hair,
and under my breath, the fresh scent of gin.
Never have I felt more cold,
cycling under the trees, feeling the sun on my skin and knees.
Words are screaming through my eyes.
Words are crying through my eyes.
But I cannot even piece these words together,
as we do not speak the same language.
Life feels as though it’s dripping through my hands,
with isolation as my cure.
It’s like untying a knot that never ends.

Does anyone feel love in me?
Does anyone feel truth in me?
If I disappear, would anyone care?
A cold, starving depression feels like my only answer.

People are afraid to be around me,
Because I do not promise them something predictable.
I move on and away,
without a single trace.
I am a broken flower that’s been stepped on,
lying in a sea of cement.
But when I think of God,
I see a handprint in the cement.

For recovery is just a process,
Belief is a lifetime.

The words from man’s mouth expire into deep waters, but maybe you can hear me out.
Underneath salvation skies, I can see the darkness in your eyes.
I can still remember the sound of the acoustic guitar as we danced and the minutes flying by.

I can still taste the champagne on your lips from our first year’s kiss.
Has anyone ever told you the meaning behind angels and belles?
Sometimes it feels as though my own answers don’t reimburse me satisfaction.
In this arctic moment, my heart freezes when I touch your hand and all that’s left is your heavy breathing.

I watch from the sidelines as life passes by and I can barely taste it.
Days and nights live together in my head.
My only desire is to untie and expose our emotions then explore our minds.
Has anyone ever told you the meaning behind angels and belles?

The rat king sits upon his throne of a thousand skulls,
gives all he's got to convict doom on the dead man in the boat.
But looking back, One will notice the last words the dead man penned.
He gave his once empty soul to the Almighty, and practiced this nightly.
Sincerely signals of love surround a joyful surrender.
.
I am the lonely bird on the powerline.
I am the lonely homeless man holding the sign.
Just take one look at this town, and it'll make you frown.
I wanna live, I wanna give.
.
There is the abandoned, forsaken boy.
Secluded, solitary, reclusive. Oh, what an outcast from joy.
Raging wars of hatred and lonesome in his head.
Wondering what happens when he's dead.
Suddenly hits rock bottom and retracts his rejected heart into a harden.
Thereafter, he identifies how to stop blame and grant pardon.
For he catches glimpse of a Love that no one could fathom.
He sees the One who parted the seas.
Discovering that there is someone who loves him dearly.
The Lord with no confines and is with him every step of life.
Sincerely signals of love surround a joyful surrender.
.
I am the lonely bird on the powerline.
I am the lonely homeless man holding the sign.
Just take one look at this town and it'll make you frown
I wanna live, I wanna give.
Let go, and let God. For tomorrows never promised.

Staring at chandeliers.
When my life once was a hollow valley. Nostalgia is not what it used to be.

I can smell your touch, through the cigarette smoke.
I can hear your thoughts through this party of souls.

Sometimes I feel as though I want to breach my soul separating, it into pieces so I can
search each piece for the clues of significant meaning.

Incarcerating my emotions.
I do not give them feet to walk out of my mouth or body language.

Forget how to breathe.
Once beneath  such depths of thought, how would it be possible to circulate breath?

Controversial speech.
Stay calm while I caress your hair of dissonance.

Dream of Life
Watching life as I lean against the wall.

Zen
Everything within me is untitled.
It was not meant to be understood.

The End
This place is not my home.
I can’t take this or anything with me, but I will see You.

I’m staring out my second story window.
Watching life as it passes me by.
I could use the balcony, but this suits me just fine.
The sun begins on one side and ends on the other side of my window.
Winter ghosts and ravens roam the frosty streets below.
From here I can see the search party, seeking for my hollow soul.

I’m staring out my second story window.
Taking notes on life as it passes me by.
I could cross the English Channel for you,
But I remember we have nothing left to say.
You were the sunlight to my every dark night.
Desire is a word I’ve long forgotten.

I’m staring out my second story window.
Free from life as it passes me by.
There are no chains here, just free will.
I only write to you, to see the words sit on my window sill.
From here, I can see time means nothing.
Time is broken.
The darkness is my friend, and the world is full of things never spoken.