intense clear blue eyes you have
i can get so lost in them
black hair just like mine
but mine shines brown in the sun
bitten fingers nails
just like my nails
lips so puffy like a cloud i could sink into them
layer of soft skin
just around your belly
or better said around you're whole body
i love you're skinny legs
that wrap my torso
i love youre red fingers(cause its so cold)
that scratch my head
when i have my whole head planted into youre belly
oh i could keep on going...

And you have a stressful family life
just like me
but i hate to see you teary eyed
my beautiful girl

" it depresses the hell outta me"

The disappointment that exceeds
the limit of the human.
The lies that ponders their empty minds.
The lies to hurt.
Depressed, heartbroken, sorrowful
and cheerless that reshapes my
true and utter emotion.
Hiding my true feeling like an
exploding bomb in my body
waiting for the right time to finally blow.
Feeling like nothing but air, nonexistent
but always and forever there.

The fence post that is always second choice,
not good or interesting enough for the shiny
and new. The ignorance of their personality
is relentless. The similarity is clever although
it will soon diminish and disperse like fireflies.
Sooner or later their fate will take a turn. Without
a care, without sight. Just like that it will blow away like
dust. The enforcement to make them look good.
The insecurity that troubles there beautiful and
perfect minds is pathetic and
funny but the best will never change
without some
beauty within.

Where is my home
when your arms are closed?
Where will I go
if your love no longer flows?

I would vanish
into the nothing that fills the air
I would perish
as if I were never even there

He Wasn't Me

I saw you,
I saw me,
Sitting together,
Moulded into one,

Not a care in the world,
Two souls,
Locked away in time,
Forever,

But it wasn't me,
No it wasn't
He only looked like me,
He had the same hair,
He had the same face,

But he wasn't me,
If he was,
He would have never,
Got this far,
No, not with you,

He would've stumbled,
To your heart,
And been turned down,
At it's very gates,

He would've faced his demons,
And all of yours,
Unsure every step along the way,
Which way the wind blow,

He would've written you ballads,
And poems,
A thousand and one,
And even kissed death,
In her wretched face,

No, he wasn't,
If he was,
If only he was,
If only I was,
Him and not me.

and in your mind
i seem to have never stayed
oh and im quite proud
quite proud
now
now that the spring arrived
i cant resist to lay my green skin on the green grass
and they always told me
"you'll die catching your dreams"
but i just kept living
as I'm  killing my lungs
here we go another day
in my life
ohhhhh

Lost to the cost
of family gone
puzzle of sorrow
fill the space
an empty case
sits in a lake
full of sorrow
no tomorrow
study the cost
all is lost
money gone
bills to pay
waste the day
to hide away
family gone
morn the loss

My  days are a blurr
My feeling is gone
Am floating on clouds
flying
through the water of the clouds
My brain laughs
My eyes cry
my teeth  stick out more an ever
i Don't know were i went
I dont know were am going
Am forgetting all as the seconds pass
I dance all out
no caring what the birds think
i sing aloud
not caring what the gods think
burning the floor with my feet
i dont care
i dont care
come to me
and tell me you hate me
i would laugh
i would laugh
the whole night long

News feeds and nose bleeds,

staring back through the screen,

shouting, and screaming,

everyone is doing fine if you catch my meaning,

photographers and band members,

but the poet, no one remembers,

singers are showing their songs,

and painters are filling their bongs,

messengers going on benders,

but the poet, no one remembers,

they are burning up the page,

with their eyes filled with ambitious rage,

saying things that have meanings to another,

everyone likes,

everyone acts like future lenders,

but the poet, no one remembers,

everything is great,

in the pictures they take,

doing something that matters to the rest of the Earth,

people heralding what they have done since their birth,

born into ambition,

showing another used up rendition,

to them, it is but just the beginning of soon to be embers,

but the poet, no one remembers