i'm feeling really fragile
     delicate and brittle
easy to break
               and finely painted on
           mostly pale with pastel color
please don't
  d
      r
  o
     p
           me to shatter on the ground
   be gentle with the fine china

Dead



You cold hearted drug addicted *****
You left the only child that really needed you
I was 13 months old
You tried to weasel your way back in
But your lies gave you away
The scent of garbage
Decaying truth smells worse than death
Mother don't ever expect me to forgive you
Forgiveness is for those who offer mercy
I'm a cut throat psychopathic enraged demon
Only wanting to offer you the worst nightmares
And this mother is what I think of you
Hope you enjoy the thoughts of your "son"

I cant explain the change
The change in me
Once so happy and go lucky
Now downtrodden and smelling of melancholy

My heart beats for an empty purpose
My intentions growing darker
writhing like serpents
Speak from the heart, a sermon of empty words
I can't feel anything anymore
The deepest of cuts bleed but don't hurt

I'm looking through glass, through my own eyes
Through each day I lose more control of my life
I'm never going to win, so  why even try?
Empathy is demolished, my feelings run dry
I can't say I love myselfI can't say I love anyone else
I'll pull the bottle down from the shelf
And drink until I don't feel anything

Hello my Demons,
It's been a while,
Or so I believed.

                             Here's the truth:
                             You've been here all along,
                             Just a different guise.  

I really wish you'd leave;
I'm pretty tired of you,
And I'm tired of the me
That exists when you are
Around.
                            
                                I'm really hoping this
                                Is the final time I reference you,
                               Because I've got better places
                               To be than
                               In your clutches.

I wonder what the world would be like if we were all winners,
maybe there would be no color lines, only religious sinners....

Or maybe future beginners, just always searching for an answer,
Without a questionable question, time is only gonna move faster....

So I can't help being a walking disaster, it's the blood corsing through my veins,
I can only hope to master, the things that I can not change....