Too many times
I fall in love
With things
I cannot
Call
Mine

Has something happened,
Have I gone crazy?
When I like chaos,
But living lazy.

I wake up early,
And life's a movie.
There's people dancing,
And monsters burning.

I look at clouds,
And they tell me a story.
Life is fleeting, and life is boring.

I think they caught my depression.

So when I wake up at the edge of my bed.
And everything that's wrong starts fallin' outta my head.
I'll say I'm sorry,
I'm in a bad mood.

So I found beauty,
In all I hated.
In this scene of ***** ups
and desperation.

Maybe one day
I'll find my way.
With walks to new towns
And mental break downs.

I hate to tell ya kid,
You'll never be okay.
They won't listen
They'll hate you anyway.

So lose yourself in the chaos.

So when you wake up at the edge of your bed,
And everyone you love is slippin' through your hands.
You'll say I'm sorry,
I'm in a bad mood.

*Well something happened,

and I went crazy.

I
Here I am, drinking in my local bar.
There's a sadness in the air,
Relaxed,
Aged with the whiskey.
Cheaper.
Guy Fawkes night fireworks
are some forgotten war,
Flash bangs,
We're all in the trenches
Fighting
What exists in the smudged
Moonlight
And ages with the whiskey.

II
I've quit my job -
I hate these walls
I hate the brick dust that sits
Like an ash cloud.
Keep spinning
Catherine wheels, rocket cases
Fall from grace and tell me
Did I love these friends?
Let me hold you
My
Shallow
imprints in the mud.

III
Am I just hungover from
Halloween?
It's macabre.
Melodrama
full of the rich scent of rotting
Dead leaves,
And what the dead leave
Costumes, an ecstasy of
wanting to be watched
touching myself.

IV
I hope they know I love them.

To  have life
you need to want it
as you want air
beneath the surface.

Ever wonder where  a cowboy's stares  
lead him looking off into all those sunsets,
those puffy clouds on the range
arranged in crimson glory,
he feels , but,
puts on his cowboy hat,
and hides his eyes and dreams

He looks off, a song humming,
recalling a girl so long gone,
expresses his toughness, by that tear you never see.
Rides alone the prairies, him and his steed.

His dusk is all life long. He is tough, granted.
He has a poem inside, tearing him apart.

And, keeps on riding.

Finally, the day a year
people try to guess my costume:

"Oh, this is no costume, I'm just wearing this.
The date is a coincidence.
Still, feel free to guess!"

I am a soldier
even in my dreams
fighting against monsters in my memories
I am a soldier
I'm not so strong anymore
fighting against the blade at my wrist
I have won the battle
I am losing the war