The difference between my consciousness and subconsciousness is so severe,
So severe I fear I must sever the tie between the two.
Two halves of a whole that is me.

One says, "Be happy! Why not?"
And the other says, "Be happy why? Not!"
I feel the weight of the disagreement and I can't wait for it to stop.

My left hand holds the cake,
As the blade in the right "accidentally" slices my left wrist instead.

This fight within myself has left me battle scarred,
But the battle scars on my wrists and thighs
Are no match for the scars on my heart.

When our sweat dries
          You light your cigarette
                   After I meet your needs.
Will I be like
          The curling smoke
                  You let disappear into the air?

Now I'm high and high poetry works really well, as per experience so here we go.

Music always helps me when I write
I just let it take me somewhere.
I'm here now.

I don't know where exactly "here" is, but I like it here.
Nothing matters in the land where the music comes from.
Everyone is free the experience whatever they want to without fear of being judged by anyone because all anybody cares about is how the music makes them feel and the journey that they are on.

And then sometimes you meet that one person that shares a moment with you on your journey.
Someone that has the same experience as you when you hear that cry of the creature of the land that music comes from.
And they are the most beautiful person in the world to you at that moment.
You would do anything for them
In that moment.

And then as soon as the creature of the land where music comes from opens it's mouth to sing that beautiful song that brought you two together he closes it and they disappear.
        
Forever.

Because nobody ever feels the same way about a song twice.
There is always something different the next time.

You're never different.

Drunken poems never work for me.
Sitting outside,                      
Smoking my cigarette,
Clutching my bottle of momentary respite
But here I sit writing it.

You inspire this in me.
Not the drinking (to an extent)
But the writing.
Without you I would never of started
Without the pain you unknowingly cause

I smile even though I'm hurt.
You make me smile.
You make me hurt

I'm sad now so this is done.

You drive me crazy. Absolutely nuts.
It's rather scary, to be quite frank.
I'm not entirely sure I like it at all.
But you see, there is no other person upon the earth that I would rather go crazy with but you.