I get to use my Z key.
Quite a rare site to see.
A tap and a tick in the bottom left hand corner of my keyboard.
I like it.
This tapping and ticking.

It’s funny how the poles of love and hate can be so easily flipped,

Like turning an hourglass,
The store of sand will flow equally backwards,
Like going up the hill is slower than down,
    And so quickly you can go below,
Like how fun playing in water can be,
    Until you start to drown,

It’s funny how the best and worst emotions
Come and go
Hand in hand.

His name was Three,
His childhood free,
But he fell out of a tree,

Now he sits all day,
His parents always pray,
And he doesn't say,

"I will stand tall,
I will not fall,
It will be like, I never did at all."

Sometimes we hold on too tight,
When it starts to slip,
We bleed.

Falling asleep to your face a thousand miles away,
The only greater I could pray
    Is to have your face
    For more than just a day.

He's always there for me,
This golden Sun.

Warming my skin
My car,
My air,
My spray cans,
Forcing butane out of my lighter.

He always gives me more.
Growing my plants,
Helping my body process calcium
Through vitamin D.

He gives selflessly.
It's all He knows.

When I am dead,
It's only because I lived.

Sometimes I hold my breath until I pass out.
Just to taste what dead is like.

“Jesus Christ that’s a pretty face,”*

You read my mind.

I have bloodstains everywhere.

Rivers of red,
Shallow display of blood
Mixing with soil and sand
Flowing down
Always down.

A world of red blood
And red rivers.

I just want to be locked in a cave,
And make it all go away!
I don’t want to be me,
I just want to be you and me!

I want to pass away all these days all these years-
I want to be able to
            TASTE YOUR TEARS!!
    *Give me your fear.

Chemical escapes
Only escapes.
Mind space
Head space
Space out for a while, hours
Days.

There's something surreal about seeing the reflection of yourself snort *******.
I didn't like it.
I saw my eyes and I looked at myself.
Why are you doing this.
What lead you here.
Is this what you want?

****, I don't know what I want.
I want to be okay, whatever form that takes
*******, marijuana, 2C-B, diphenhydramine
It's all the same to me.

God, please God just fry my brain
Make catatonic this once glowing man
Take away my fire,
***** me.
Soil this once golden visage.

**** me inside so I don't **** the outside.
I pulled my rifle out today.
And admired it's absolute, cold, resolution.
A complexion of death engraved in it's blued steel.
A full metal jacket to wrap around my thoughts,
Keep me warm for the rest of my life.

I pulled this knife into my skin again
And watched drops of blood ooze from my shell.
My shell.
Shell.
Empty shell.

Sleep forever,
Shell or no shell,
I want to sleep until I'm better.
Or she is.

I feel guilt.
This isn't her responsibility,
This is mine.
She's dealing with her own ****
I have to deal with mine
But- GOD I think we can deal better
Together.

I'm sick of abusing drugs to escape
And I'm sick of sleeping
And I'm sick of hurting
And thinking of my death,
God, PRAYING for it while I sleep.

Get better Marshall.
Get well soon.
Just will yourself out.

Like I can do that.

It's chemical, these problems.
Some molecules in my brain fill some holes
And I feel better.
And I make better art and I smile and laugh.
God I want to smile and laugh.

I will Faust my soul away
If it brings more sunny days.
I will Faust my will away
If it makes you stay.

God, come back to me.

Keeping my head above water.

That's what these days have become.

No longer do I enjoy this ocean but I drown,
Ounce by ounce my stomach then my lungs fill with sea salt and I wretch in my wade,
I will soon succumb to the endless expanse
And I will be forgotten.
Like everything
Always
Is.

It's because my head is messed up.

I have a question burning somewhere inside,
It's the kind of question you should hide,
I want to ask it,
I want it to be asked.

I want to ask for her company,
But that would be too much.

I'm alone on a holy day,
Staring at my new scars.

I like them. I really do.
I like the cross they form.

Unintentional, of course.
How can you plan two lines to meet,

Over one year apart.

It's cruel what you do to me
My heart is going to give out.

You rip my heart out when you say his name,
When I see your dreams and there is no mirror,
When I know you tremble,
    And I can’t hold you,
When I know I need you,
    And you I,
        But you don’t let me in,
I’m curious,
    How will you make those amends.

-April 8th 2013

I remember that morning,
It was raining,
It was pouring,
It tasted like tears,
    Mostly because I was crying
    And I was bleeding
        Because I punched a wall,
Because I saw it all.

I saw how the world could stop and walls could shatter,
I saw that birds could fly backwards,
And the dictionary was not large enough to pack all the words I longed to scream at the top of my lungs into a crowd of six thousand,
I saw that a brick wall doesn’t show the stain of blood very well,
But you can always see the remnant of torn flesh on its gritty surface.

The pain of that rain,
The pain of that blood,
The pain of those tears,
    Were nothing-
        nothing compared to what was taken from me.


And here I am months later.
My hand has healed, scarred over. A pink discoloration remains.
But the only pain I still feel is in these lines,
    The only thing that’s real.

Arpeggios
Of imprisoned frustration,
Finally leaking out
In notes and tones so pure,
Steel strings.

Comfort.

Like a painting, You’re perfect,
Like a parade, You pop,
Like a poem, You please,
Like a petal, You’re pleasant,
Like passion, You’re powerful,
Like peace, You’re painless.

Like a painting come to life, You laughed.

-June 4th 2013

"K"

Does that K stand for ****?
Is this your attempt to bleed me?

Cause it's working.

Like a warm coat on a deep winter day,
You kept me warm,
    Tickled my skin,
And made me smile.

There’s a reason I chose you,
        I’m so glad I didn’t forget it.

I see this world
Of Marshall with his clean face
And white shirts,
Tattoos
BLEEDING through his sleeves
Blue and green and black.

Staring into his face,
Eyes becoming the expansive world-
In the mirror.

Bleeding razor on the sink,
Steaming water rising upward,
Still-

Marshall STARING into his expansive eyes,
Obliterating reality around him,
Slicing and cutting and tearing apart all surroundings.
Focussing on the star stuff within him.

Kim, the Sun, the warmth of each day,
The clean razor face and lotion-massaged skin,
The golden, gleaming colors of life.

Marshall staring at all of this,
Upon his sink-mirror.

Moths don't know they're flying into a streetlight or campfire. They're innately tuned to follow the light, the moon. But we make diversions for them, we build fires to warm ourselves, and in turn, direct the moths from their moon to their grave.

People do this too. In the process of warming oneself, we create a light which can be witnessed. When we take care of ourselves, we shine beautifully. And others may be drawn to that light, instead of the light which would bring them true happiness, and bring out their own true beauty.

Beware false prophets. Follow the true light.

My mind torn in two,
    Brown and Blue.
The eyes,
    Their sights.

Which do I crave more,
    How should I war?

Is it a sin to know beauty comes in more than one form?
Is it wrong to notice when a gleam is red not blue and gold?
Is it such a challenge to escape the **** lore
Is it too much you just lay down your cards and fold?

Cause it’s not for me,
Everyone knows,
Especially she,
How my heart goes.

It’s new to not be hurt,
Your hand in mine,
        My hair in the way of our kisses,
I want to be free finally,
Rid of this world I hate deeply,
Feeling you is like feeling peace.

Necessity of you gets the best of me,
And that’s really all I need.

Put out your cigarette in my hand.
Burn me please.
These nights I spent with you are perfect.
And no light can exist in this world without darkness.
No joy without pain.
There has been no pain.
So please, G̷̛̔͑̓̈́̊́̓̀͛̉̃͊̓̂̋͆̒̎͂̃̃͋̏̂̀̇̄̇̾͆̇̑̈́͗͑͂̈́̅͗̊͊̉̅͂͐̊̄̈͑͋̕̚͘̚̚̕͝͝͠͝͠͠­̢̨̡̡̞̖̙͓̳̰̪̪̻̣͕̭̝̻̹̙͎͙̭̪̤̺̙͕̹̭͔͙̰̼̗̟̔̎̈́́̃̓͜ͅo̸̓̎͌̽̒̐͌̈́́͊͊̊̊͋̈́͐̋͗̚­̨̛͇͚̮̫͈͚̲̙͇̙̮͍͇̄̽̀̒̈́̏͆͒͗̇̾̋̀̄̅̊̋̀̍́̊̂̽̈́͐̈̿̐̏̂͑͋̍͋͋͛̋̇̀͑͂͘͘͘̚͝͝͝͝͠­̨̢̡̢̢̡̧̮̤̪̞̬̟͍͔̺̝͔̣̦̼̯͓͈̜̝͕̗̟͉̯͔͕̠̳̠͎̖̺͉͎̹̗̫͎̻̙̯̪̱͚̫̳͈͜͜ͅd̸͋͊̃̍̃̇­̨̨̧̨̢̢̬͉̫͓̥̣̝̝͇̠̮̗̜͕͍͚̤̳̭̪̜̳͙̣͙̝̰̲̳͇̮̱̩͔̯͗̿͂̂̊͂̐̑̄̓̉̎̾̑͗̆̈́̒̕̕͜͠ͅͅ­̨̡̧̡̢̧̧̧̞̲̯̮̥̻̲͓͖͇̻̫͉̭̲̪̙̤͈̲̫̼͈̺͈̱͇̹̮̰̻͉̞͓̣̙̭̙̜͕̝̟̫̝͓̫̰̩̙̞̜̹̪͜͜͜ͅ­̡̧̢̨͎̤̞̘͇͔͓͔̦͇̮̺̖̯͎̬͓̟̙͇̖̠̯̯̩, hurt me so I can know that this is R̶̨͕͔̘͉͉̳͎͔̟̣̤͈̬̫̭̥̟͙͕̟̬̎̏̊̌̍͌͌̽̐̇̽̌͑̒̓͗̽̄̅́̀͗̃̇̎̿̒̔̾̈́̀̊̚͘͘̕̕̚͜͠ͅ­̡̨̡̡̧̡̤̱͖̗̫̘͉͈̮̞͎̱̰̜̹̞̖̞̥͎̩̥͙̥͖̻͉̲̭̳̟̖͎͎̟̤̩̪͈̘͔̘̣͇̤͈̠̩̦̞͉̘͉̱̝̞̭͜ͅ­̧̨̡̨̢̢̧̢͚͔̪̣͕̙̗̯̯̥̖̯͍͚̟̫͙͓̦͖̠̱͔̥͇̪̘̪̙̖͚͓̩̲͍̦̗̝̬̣̗̲͍̖͜͜e̷͐̀̓͆̇͗̉̀̚­̨̛̛̛̫̥͈͈̼̼́̿̑̅̄͛̏̂̔͊̏̃̾̃͌̉̓̍̀̀́̂̍͌͗̄̓̓̅̍͐͑͗̌͗̏͗̾̓̄͋̉̌́̎͛̆̈́͒͂́̚̚͝͠­̧̱̟̰̻̗̜͚̗:̸̐̓̀̔̎͗̆͐́̅́̎̀̄͆̀̈̆̌̿̐͊̀̉̄͐͌̎̆̋̌͒̆̐͒͆̆̌̋́̌͛̃͊̀͒̃̉͊̚̕͝͝͠­̢̡̢̛̛͓̤̫͙̱͔̝͎̹̰͙͉͖̳͚̟̲̝̟̺͈͍͚̊̽̃͋̊͒̉̇̉̉́͐͋͛̉̉̊̾̓̎̓̎̈́̓̈̉́̓̊̀̎̋̅̅̓͠ͅ­̧̨̢̢̨̱̤͉̠͉͈̭̹̜͖̙̪͔͈̦̣̜̼̦̼̺͎̘͔͖̩͖̣̗̳̼̰̻̘͚͕̟̣͇̘̭̪̜̘̩̝̰̯͜͜͜ͅͅͅA̷̛̛̍̕­̛̛̛̓̔̋̇̓̃̎̄̍̑̆̔̋̊̒̿̓͑͒̃̀͑̽̿́̈́̄̂̌̔̒̽͛͂́̐̍͋̇͗̾̏͌̌̉̓̍̽̈́͐͛̈́̀͆͒̍͗͘̚͝͠͝­̢̛͖͖̞͇̂̑̋̍̉̊̐̈́͌̋̄͑̉͛̂̎͛̌̐͌̊̔́̇͘͝L̶͋̀̈́̇͑̔͑̐̾͊̽̅́̿͛̀̇̽̍̆̉́̈́͐͆͂͘̚͠͠͝­̂͒̏̓̉̑͛̃̿̔͑̄̂̉̌̒̐͛̍̎̈́̆̈̐̀͆̐̓̽́̔̀̎́̇̽͗̔͑̈́̂̎̑̐̒̐͋͛̈͊͆͊̅̂́̿̔͌͗̕͘͠͝͝͝­̰̼̠̪̪̭̗̜̤͙̥͚͉̤̺̲̮̦̗̰͙͆̍̈̔̋̈͐̽͊̿̇́̍̎̈́̀͊̒̀̈́̊͛̎̏͒̑̓̒͌̒̅́̽͛̋͘̕͝͝͝͝͝͝ͅ­̢͉̺̬̱̦͖̜͓̣̣̜̱͕̜̫͔̝̫ͅ.

I want this to be real.

If I found it was all a lie,
*I would die.

Does Prometheus enjoy his struggle,
Having tasked an eternity?

Call this purgatory
But it's not quite.

It's a balance between
Heaven
And
Hell.

Heaven from these waking and sleeping moments
Blanketed in your warmth
In your books and hair
And skin.
Showered with love
Cleaned by it
And showing true selves.
No puppetry.

And Hell
For all the same reasons gone.
No infinities
No blankets of lasting warmth.
All safety being yanked from me upon sunrise,
The ouroboros dwindling
And anxiety of next day.
To lose your libraries, your sheets, your smell and touch
In one instant.

Heaven AND Hell.
Forever sewing themselves into these moments.
Sine and Cosine.
The snake of comfort.

I wonder if
Adam
and
Eve
Spent most of their time wandering
Different parts of Eden.

And I will love every second of it.

Adenosine fueling me behind the scenes
Lysergic crystals
Explosions, shrapnel shredding
Tearing, digging inside me
Severed limbs
Severed parts of me
Left behind.

Born again.

Alone.
Again.
Wasted.
Again.
This happened.
Again.
"Why."
Again.
Always.
Again.

I don't deserve this.

But a man.

Cross wires
And whine
Nothing is easy enough.

Content here
With my coffee
My biscuit
And my cream,
By the sea.

I wish I met you.
I wish I said more than just some hellos.
I wish we kissed.
I wish that wishes don't come true.
I wish I never wished for anything.

Hey.
I have a question.

*Go for it!

The pain was gone,
But an angel sung,
Only one song,
And all of it stung,

It’s no mystery to you or me,
No game to play, No room to say,
The mirror shattered, ashes scattered,
Apathy, embrace.

-June 5th 2013

When the four horses pull at my mind,
I know you’ll be there,

When the walls of my palace crash down,
I know you’ll be with me,

I want you with me,
And when the night falls,
When all lights fail,
Through it all,

You’ll be there.

-July 1st 2013

Like metal is malleable,
            So are the seasons,
Heating, Bending, Contracting,
            So consistently.
    But my heart is not a four season.
It stays         summer        for you.

When maple trees freeze,
They explode.
The sap within them expands to a point the bark cannot handle
And release the energy stored,
Permanently altering the body of the tree.

To kiss her neck,
Is what I want.
To spend some time,
Take it away.
I wanted peace,
Hugs and comfort.
This **** weather
Took that away.

"You know I really want my child to-"

My face turned red. I stopped breathing. My heart skipped two beats.

"Oh."

Take these swift lights
Take them like cars passing
And trucks with their chains in the night.
Take these lights with you.
These sounds, they're nothing.

The light of existence has been forever brightened by you.
In a way that can't be taken by long nights
And longing sounds.

A life without eyes-
Would be brightened by what you have brought to me.

Bill
Has this monologue
Where he discusses
How Superman is God,
And he can only blend in
When he makes himself look
Weak.

Clark Kent is imagination.
Superman is still Superman
And he is still God.