The puppeteer can laugh
While he makes his marionette dance.
Little does he know
What it’s like to be strangled in his strings.

We search for meaning in this barren field,
Only to find a mirror pointing us back.
Life is searching for meaning
And not being happy with what you find.

I can count the years I spent in that storm.
I can remember every sleepless night.
I can recall every word which was exchanged.
What I can’t do is… let go.

Forgiveness is something foreign to me.
A refugee trying to inhabit my borders.
It’s my nation,
But it’d be inhumane not to let him in.

Maybe the day will come
When the Sun rises with the Stars
And the Moon brings the morning.
Maybe there will be a time when I can say your name,
Or look you in the eyes again.
Maybe…

When I say “hold me”
I don’t just mean “don’t let me go”.
I want you to bring me as close as possible
And make our heartbeats align

In that one moment,
In that perfect embrace,
Our souls fused into one.
I could see it on your face.

If I wasn’t mortal
I wouldn’t have let you go.
I couldn’t freeze time then,
Still, I relive that second every day.

While I thought that everything was going to be fine,
You found the time to sharpen your knife.
And while I brought you close to my heart,
The blade struck deep and it cut me open.

As I lay here now,
With my final breath making its way home,
The last name I can think of
Is yours.

They say shoot for the stars,
But what if I’m indoors?
I’ll just end up hitting the celling.

They say be yourself,
Then they want you to be happy.
What if you’re sad?

People want things they can’t see.
They’d trade in their sight
For a modest lie.

I doesn’t hurt me all that much anymore,
I’ve chewed glass before.
It always tastes the same, like blood.

Being alive is like writing poetry,
You can’t tear someone apart just because you don’t like them.
True poetry comes from honesty.

We need more of it, the truth.
No more masks or plays,
Just us, naked and bare.

I once sat upon a hill.
She was the oncoming breeze,
So warm, so free.
And I was the windmill on top of the hill.

Whenever she blew past me
My gears would turn.
It was a rhythm capable of sustaining life.
But all I wanted was love.

I could go on for days, with her by my side.
We would dance together for hours.
Until I broke,
I couldn’t turn any longer.

She found it fit to abandon me.
It broke me.
Acid rain filled my lungs,
Until my breath reeked of disaster

I’m okay now,
And she is too.
My heart is healed, even though
The wind still gives me chills.

I remember a time where
I’d wake up and, stop.
Just stop.
I’d stay in place not being able to move.

Your eyes would cut my legs clean off.
Medusa’s gaze shivers in comparison to yours.
But time has passed,
Things have changed.

I remember a time where
I’d dream about you,
Nonstop,
Every night.

I knew every part of you by heart.
You were the phantom which dwelled in my mind.
But time has passed,
Things have changed.

I remember a time where
I loved you.
So much
It burned.

You wrecked me,
Your infernal tornado blazed through my insides.
But time has passed,
Things have changed.

So have you,
And so have I.

Yes, wash me away,
And all my colors too.
Once ornated with the shades of life,
Now broken and gray.

We enter the halls of society
And exit perfect people,
That is,
If we ever leave.

They have us believe that we are unique
Yet they scrape what individuality we have,
Like fingers across a blackboard.
The light is fading away.

Maybe we should put on some wool and really become sheep,
Because the world’s wolves are howling for blood,
And we will give it to them for their attention.
We are as blind as we are stupid.

After the cycle is complete,
Do with me as you please.
My colors run cold,
In the deep blue river we call life.

Oh, I’m sorry.
You’ll have to forgive my uncultured mind.
I had no idea what being a man was.
Who would have guessed it was more than having something between your legs.

I guess I should go drink a cold one.
Or maybe fix a car.
Watch some sports?
Hit a woman?

That’s what all the real men do.
If you appreciate life and its wonders, you have to be a woman.
How many lives must society take before it crumbles on itself?
But men have it easy, right?

What if I want to cry?
No, I shouldn’t.
Mommy’s the one who cries when daddy beats her.
I guess I should just hit my wife too.

When I’m put into chains and you ask me why.
I’ll tell them, I thought mommy was supposed to cry.
Daddy would always leave her with a black eye.
It’s people like this that deserve to die.