why do i identify with addiction and addicts when my only addiction is to sadness
an unwritten paper attracted to matches like iron to a magnet there is comfort in madness but comfort i cant manage
so i rip a page from the good book and ingest it hoping to live out gods commandments like doing good for the sake of good while i burn the world behind me
the straight and narrow is an uphill climb so i check my elevation only to find rock bottom has a basement
god is with the lowly and contrite so i guess self abuse is my form of abasement
but i can never hurt myself enough so i hurt the ones i love so i can gain pain by the process of osmosis
'cept god works his law in measure for measure so this living hell is just a double portion
wisdom chased me so i broke her legs because im scared love truly is the answer

blessed are the pure in heart
pure in heart
pure in heart
for they shall see god
see god
see god
and not be blinded by
sickles in eyes
harvesting what the world
longs to buy
to buy
to buy
a cost of soul
a meeting of minds
reality transcends
the emptiness within
its a story its a spin
layers of caked on sin
leprosy covered sin
cut off and not allowed
to see god
see god
see god
so i pray make me clean
been this way since fourteen
maybe longer maybe less
couldn't care less
theres sins i dont confess
i just undress and
let my nakedness be my shame
take the blame
its only a game
im only a name
my only aim
to hit the mark
have a pure heart
and finally see
god

stars are born when old wishes die
ignited in the sky
by unbelieving eyes
up above the world so high
down below we weep and cry
faith turned hollow and bone-dry
closed up lips only deny
a prayer a plea before i die
wont these old wishes
wish me goodbye

The stars in the night have
a shimmer
Not so delicate any more
For my eyes have been dimmed
They wonder ever astray
Horizon ever there and
My knees fold with exhaustion
My needs never full and
I am tired again
Our ships have crossed these shores
But they are stranger every time
Or are we just strangers together
Sharing this moment in time

im struggling and still saying
its alright to depend on these words
even if dependence is no form of freedom
and former independence doesn't like to
be called out by his first name so he
writes like a ghost and ghosts his friends
like they're lost in the woods and looking
for him or at least his corpse
i guess that depends on how far his willpower
is willing to bend before becoming a coward
too afraid to respond it's all choked up
nothing in his (my) throat but smoke and
he (i) choke on the ash and fall on my (his) ***
trying to grab the rock to hold onto but it
crumbles in my (his) hand and he falls
to the echoes of my friends' calls
into the darkness and the darkness transforms
he and i into i and he
a split sewn together and fraying again
he isn't me but i can't help but
be him when i want to be me
so i turn back to words on
pages that bring some semblance
of comfort and a voice
to the chaos in his head
and taste the vitriol in my mouth
before spitting it back out
because it may be filling but
it has no sustenance beyond
what a fog can offer instead
so i step into the morning fog
away from him who
i've come to hate and love as much
as i hate him
so that maybe someday soon
i will love him more than i hate him
but until then it's cold this morning
and i hear my friends in the woods

my heart no longer
wonders or wanders
but beats with a
serenity scorched
by chaos and
left alone

alone with my thoughts
pain but then
forgiveness
my thoughts
it is finished
peace in the storm

and how are the flowers
that fail to blossom
still hanging in the
eaves of dawn
and still holding
sunlight in their petals
clutching tightly
and still leaking through
the ground is damp
but i can't feel a thing