Leaning over the balcony smoking a cigarette,
Exhaling life and Inhaling death,
Head hanging low,
Hopeless **** up.

Throwing away everything hoping to get something,
Releasing tears that burn,
Salty tears, on a
Torn face

You can't hide those lies behind your eyelids
Shutting them tight so you won't see the world where we live
Trusting yourself to let it loose
Between the work, the love, the life, and the self-abusiveness
Throw up those waking nightmares
As I'm the taste of bile that will always reside there
Just go ahead and face it
Those lies behind your eyes give me no form of entertainment

Sometimes it seems like you aren't even trying
Pain pills down you throat leaves you no room to fly in
Desperation makes you angry
You don't know when your dreams will set you free
This time you're going to go a little too far
From the devils your run from to the drunken dents in your car
But shut those lying eyes
So you'll never see the story end with the way that you die

I am hear and I am there
One home two home
Blue home new home.
scattered shattered as-if-it-mattered.
I've paid cost for my moms loss
I have learned and I have yearned
day by day with my new say
with her toss I can't feal lost or I'll cry and they'll  ask why.
I get scared when i get tared,
over and over the story's bin shared.
            with all her cries made into lies,
no one would lisson help her  with this mission
they  distroyed her they deployed  her
she's old and untold just a mess by the guess,
with her cold man the beast with a hand
knew how to hit and not how to quit.
I was young and showed him my tounge I didn't lisson he belonged to the prison.
I'm her last choice , she just burn't her voice.
I'm her gold key to setting her free
why'ed she say yes when he stepped to his knee?
to be with him she thinks he'dahhh lisson.
all he would do is give her a *****,
Give me my Mommy! stop making her drain all you have gave her is a lost brain.
and my heart?.
just a pain ....
I can't live to be her I can't stand to see her.
all that we had you turned into bad every last bit you made a big fit,.

when we met
well
when you spoke to me
you spoke with such ease
with no boundaries

you were an open book
and i was not

i was yet a closed one
with my pages torn
and the cover stained

and you did not seem to walk away
like most people do
when they see an old book
on a library shelf

but you stayed
and you listened
and you read every page
but why?

"because every story
can be very lovely
or very tragic
and you, my dear

are both"

(b.m.)