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I have come to the conclusion
that I am playing a game of hide and seek
with the value I place on my soul
each day my worth hides itself away
like eye spy in a picture framed by life
and I flip through the pages
to find it again
in the most random of places
and in the smallest of things.
I was asked to explain what I mean by
"Dead Inside"
Typically I pawn off a joking motion
waving my marionette arms
to hide the rabbit in the hat
I adequately nick-named misery
because it keeps me company.
But if you sawed me in half
I'm quite certain all you will find
inside is a silhouette of  man
dancing around in a light box
doing the same fruitless jig over and over.
A couple of loose strands
and a few holes in the images
but the end is the beginning
and I am putting on a show for you all now.
The curtain is  my mouth
strung so tight you'd think it was a smile
And the words I say spin round and round
not a genuine frown in sight.
The light may be on inside
but the picture never seems to change
day after day,
collect the pieces off the floor
get up,
fall in love,
trip over the same type of girl
have my heart shatter into pieces
fall back down on the side of the road
remember how uselessly alone I am;
rinse and repeat.
This is paper thin love
and see through expectations that will not fail.
And it doesn't matter which way you spin it.
Its A tragically bad silent comedy
that doesn't need a narrator to explain
Just how miserable the person inside really is.
My heart is just a silhouette of a man
and if you think you can put some tangibility
behind it and not have it shatter into 1000 pieces.
Congrats you too have joined the circus.
and spin round and round in my light box.
Fear me
for I am a monster;
Respect me
for you stand before me unscathed.

Morality isn't for the weak
Sometimes I just need to write without a delete key
infest everyone's min d with the unedted versions of my soul
the cracks and brooses the widdled down soul of a man
denstined to be mistaken, destined to fall apart
an exhausted wretch the world never seems to want
but always seems to make a whole lor t of  
seeing tyhe red lines underneath gives my heart palpitations
my obsessive compulsive self crumbles
but I know it ia for the best, mistakes are apart of life
and they are are apart of myseldf in the best of ways
because i am a accumilation of mty mistakes
for wich there are plenty of and I regret none of
except mayvbe a few, but there is no delte button in the real world
nothing to hide the mistakes, to reconcile the scars
there is no delete button in the reality of life and there is nothing
Ican do about it, but love each mistake as  I love myself.
I began to draw the demons on my arms
so that people could glimpse a fraction
of the war inside my soul
Dear happiness,
Your memory is a chef's kiss upon my cheek;
A delight upon my tongue
and a blessing to the little moments in life
that glows a pleasant hue of warmth.
You periodically saturate the background
of what seems to be infinite chaos.
You are a little spark of light in a dark room
that fills the soul with satisfaction,
But unfortunately your grasp is fleeting;
in one moment and gone the next,
A whisper of sentiment  
trickling down from the heavens
that bounces off our skin
as we dance in the rain.
Your wealth is extinguished
easily by the  horrors of life,
and I can rely on you no less then
standing on a mound of quicksand.
For most hedonistic tales end tragically,
those who seek your warmth eternally
find themselves wallowing in despair
more often then not.
The suffering of this world is just more consistent
and pours out it's muck feverously.
The extravagant whims you produce
are quickly overrun by plague and famine.
You are delightfully valuable
and undeniably desirable in every capacity,
But you are simply one spice of life.

I wish you upon every one of my beloved,
and your joys are ever so welcome,
but I have found something, someone,
more reliable to stand upon.
Something that exceeds just the moment.
Her name is meaning conjoined to her sister purpose.
Yes, misery and darkness still envelope our plight,
but these two sisters, soften the edges
for which we stand upon.
As we walk our journey upon the shores of suffering
she enlightens our foot steps and guides us forward.
Though the misery still seeps through our toes
we are driven together without heed.
She makes the suffering worthy of life,
and transforms our stumbling blocks
into valiant victories over our demons.
You may erase the darkness briefly,
but she traces the outskirts of pain and sorrow
with an intricate blending tool
that makes walking through muddy sand
a little less miserable.
She scrubs clean life's bitterness on my tongue.
Her ability to transform life into something more,
is a breath of caffeine.
She is the Goddess of exponential growth

HOWEVER, the bliss of meaning
comes with its own variety of cost.
His name is responsibility
and the weight he bares is quite immense.
He is knighted with duty and honor;
Countless sleepless nights working
followed by stressful days a slave.
He requires effort and upkeep,
day after day maintenance.
His effort is religiously monotonous
Sitting at a desk counting numbers;
chopping wood and building fires;
digging deep into the earth of life
in the attempt to develop a garden of pleasures.
Blood, sweat, and tears rain down
his ever muddy face.
He is a knight that fights the darkness daily,
but he knows deeply the horrors of battle.
He is the fire that heats life into fruition.

Although his cost is deep and anguishing
the reward of his sister supersedes.
both the cost and the terrors of life.
Nothing compares to looking into her eyes.
with a childlike love and desire.
So yes happiness do come by,
sprinkle your affection upon my life and I.
Dance together with my beloved
and swing life away for no tomorrow.
But know that even when you are away.
and the darkness hugs me tight,
I stand on a solid foundation.
of meaningfulness and responsibility.
And I will see you another night.

Yours Truly,
Monster
I do not wish to be diagnosed,
because that would label
my personality as a mistake
But I do want to be fixed
because there is something broken inside;
a few screws that could be tightened;
a few boards could be refurbished;
a pile of unspoken tragedies piled up
waiting to one day be sifted through.
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