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Blame adds weight upon shame
Flames of guilt burn the spirit
Words cut flesh as you hear it.....

What you should've done
Could've been
Need to say
Are required to be

Quite silly when the one who gives such advice
Is the one who needs to hear....

Stand by my side
Endure with me
Comfort me...

But least of all....
Program a person like a machine
You then  become the one who now needs this "new routine."
You're more sweet than the ice cream you scoop.

You're more rich than the milkshakes you make.

You're cooler than the tie-dye shirt you have to wear.

You're on my mind more than the store is busy on a spring afternoon.
To my beloved ice cream girl <3
It's hard not to love you
And I know it should be easier now that your gone
But in truth it has only gotten harder
It's like you have knowingly trained me to miss you
And all this hot weather has got me wanting to take a swim in your eyes
Craving the affection I never really received
I imagine that I know what your lips taste like
It's like watching someone eat something you are allergic to
And you have never had it yourself, but you imagine it's wonderful
Loving you was the easiest thing I ever did,
Even when it was hard it was easy
Loving you was like breathing
I am watching you fall in love with her and
I am watching her fall in love with you
And while I am watching you fall in love with each other
All people can do is ask me if I am okay
This world is no place for people with hearts
Not when we give them away so easily
And yet knew this and still loved you
I loved you anyways
Its easy to rant out loud
about how school ***** and how
I stubbed my toe last night

But the thing is...
I don’t think I’ll ever be able to write about my feelings
Ill never be able to express how it felt to lose a loved one
Or how I always am wondering when justice and equality will take a stand
in this ****** up world.

I don’t see myself as the type to just sit and write
Write about things that seem to be important and leaving myself there to wonder
Who am I to stand in front of people whose words and feelings can just spill out onto paper
as if they were throwing up their beautiful thoughts

I want to be able to throw up those beautiful things on paper
that can steal away your attention in a split second.
Here I stand in front of a room filled with people but to me its just an empty room
maybe if I just close my eyes I’ll see the stars
that seem to keep the moon company every single night
and maybe they’ll keep me company
as I spill out these thoughts that make me crazy in my own little world that is my head.

I wish you could understand
that I fear and tremble in terror
Truth be told
Id rather die then try to explain these words
these words that I seem to
jumble up and can't seem to pronounce right

I have so much to say
and yet some how I can't find the way.

why is it so hard
so hard for you to see that these words that I'm trying to say actually mean something
that I actually mean something
you just sit there and stare
with that blank wide eyed look on your face

I just can’t understand what it is
what it truly is that you want from me
Some how all my words lead back to you
just constantly trying to please
you.

I know these words won’t hit you like they hit me
but one day
maybe just one day they will.
I sit here waiting
Waiting for all meaningless words
you try so hard to string together
To actually mean something
For all I care this poem could combust
and the only tears I would shed would be of Joy
This assignment is the ****** of English Class
If I wanted to talk about my feelings
I’d pay pay someone to listen to me whine
This is ofcourse not my cup of tea
It’s a cup of poison
sliding down my throat and pulsing through my veins
Writing used to be my sunburn
The fuel that lit my fire
Now I just want to set fire to all my English assignments
English Teachers give us these squares with smaller squares with words
Oh follow this or you’ll fail
Yes college is great... if you decide to go
Everyone is different
You stump our creative flow
with these squares with words
Unaware of the blood that runs through the cracks, among the withered corpses that lay beneath them

Denial is a foul drug, it is not mended by intervention, it isn’t removed by honesty

It is expediated by horror, it is exorcised by the blood drenched enlighenment

For honesty doesn’t cure it anymore, denial has evolved beyond the scope of reason

It has grown legs, it speaks as it pleases, it preaches as it pleases

It gains power and leads the ill informed to become its pawns

It is a mighty sick creature, a disgusting ooze that seeps into the minds of the unlucky

Denial is a fungal disease, it spreads its spores to all human life

It is chaos, and seeks to destroy

This is the way of denial

And ****** to those that help denial, for they become the sickness as well
I am just a name, a number in the files, another hopeless dreamer, a ****** guitarist, a time waster, procrastinator, another beating heart, a music lover, punk rocker, another corrupted by rock. I am just another face fighting through the crowd, a confused teen, a homebound fighter, another gear in a broken clock.
                     I am a lover and a hater.
Who am I?
                     Who am I to judge?
Who am I to say what's right and what's wrong? Who am I to love? Who am I to hate? Who am I to live without actually living? Who am I to define what's music and what's not?

Who am I to believe,
who I am is truly who I am?

                I am not just
             a name or
         a number in
      that box of files.

I am me and you are you...

I am a music ****** so I finish with...

"Death inspires me, like a dog inspires a rabbit"
~ Tyler Joseph |-/
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