Neon stripes and wide marble eyes
****! the walls turn to fractals and got me ****** hypnotized.
My step syncopates to neuron transfers and heartbeat
I can feel the grass alive beneath my two right feet
Even light wants to follow my hand
You feel comfortable in your insignificance as you take 100 foot strides in playground sand
Heavy man you're breathing liquid air
Drowning in beauty so elusive for a taste of what it's truly like to have the wind dance in your hair.

You: have the wounds everyone wants to kiss and love
You: recognize you're only important if you're pretty, dead, and or just so happen to " beautifully "  borderline either at any given time.
you :let people satiate their misplaced guilt and empathy.
let them coin you a case of charity,
a stigmata *******,
Is it building or belittling to be someones muse?...
If your only inspirational because you're looked upon as broken or used?

Mamma poppy don't treat me the way she used to, no she doesn't even listen
It's frightening how my eyes light up to this tin-foil glisten.
Take me in your arms or better yours in mine.
A new way to feel momma's old touch &
Transcend these blackhole times
Black tar sublime
I'm finitely fine
I'll unlatch from this hook and swim from the line
I'm just waiting for clearer water
Where i can define myself as more than a junkies daughter
I'm finitely fine
Someone please give me their touch because all I ever do is destroy with mine

He said he'll love me more than ' H '.
Yet all three of us show up on most dates.
The sparkle in his eyes is stronger for caps than for me.
But this isn't jealousy.
It's communism,
because the bounty is split.
More split than personality changes in nighttime and crossed legs from hips.
What do you do when you dig someone who doesn't dig you as deep? What do you do when the old habits of yours begin to wake from their sleep?
He tastes like the sky, looks like rain,
But i'm just a puddle he's having a good time dancing in,
and his footprint feels more like a beauty mark than a stain burnt in scarred skin.

Up there a mountain rises
Down there an ocean divided
A stranger with a head full of lead
Photographs me and leads me to bed
Steel bars and a doctor's note
"Don't give up"
They can plead and beg but don't let them fix your head,
Can you feel the redness in your throat?
Outside a path to knowledge
Inside a waste of cells
A serpent with a mobile phone
Sweet talks me from oblivion to hell

So you wanted to see how long I could last?
Laid crimson coloured claims to a suppressed and ****** past?
You can pretend that I don't exist for you anymore while I try to mentally re-paint the echoing halls
I too got lost in the fun of exploration
and mystery of epic falls
then buzzard flew to a mousy haired girl
bones picked
flesh stripped
raw and unfurled
But I'd like to lay claims to being able to laugh about it now.
Lunatics often find humour in the ****** up, and humbly accept fate with a bow
But I ******* hated every minute I waited for your texts.
and each day that you 'forgot' to call
Left riddled and perplexed.
Traced fingers on the ticked trigger of a tactile gun
cynical sensations and sinful temptation
Once more,
surpassed
used up and done
You made me feel so low.
build me up
To let me go

Touch
touch the voices that are constantly screaming negativity and have proclivity of placing worthlessness within you

touch them kindly with poison vials of opposition
Heavily pet them with your cyanide spouts of self-preservation

lose in the end

because you can't win when you fight yourself
lose in the end, when you realize
that killing the monster in your head is catch-22 and your will to live is a conundrum wrapped in a drug-induced toxic brew
but hey
I guess this means you're still alive

" ****!!! not another morning, not another day"

Two parts deserve redemption
a half-assed vindication doesn't equal elimination
and
in this world there are problems that the notion of being 'fixed' are too hard to imitate
and to the broken ones who assumed they were getting trace amounts of love
your drug hurt like hell when it was so abruptly taken away.

Today was the 12th time I told a psychiatrist " I don't have a reason to be here."
The doctor's lips curled
her pen clicked
and she wrote so fast I swear I think the woman actually thought she found the my differential diagnosis frontier.
She holds her hand out and places it superintendant on top of the ones that belong to me
Two folded hands and a foreign one on top trembling in in falsely portrayed sympathy
Her words like a smokers cloud blew threw space and time
She exhaled an accustomed statement " I know it's hard"
But that's just it, isn't it?
I don't want to say it's particularly ' hard ' having an existence as arbitrary as mine.


When you step on a bug crossing your path do you really cross any sort of moral line?
Probably not, because there are two things you can't really ******
One being the negligible, and two being the thoughts in your brain that intertwine.
and if I leave this god forsaken planet i'm afraid that's all i'll be
a neuroelectrical plague; a vague and useless memory
Because no one will make requiem for ugly cadavers
and I feel i'm slipping deeper into unconsciousness without any form of stagger
When the pills are on the rise
no one cares if another ' arbitrary ' kid dies
Why should they?
The kids were never even alive in the first place...

Feelings subside when ****** from a straw.
Worn down and white until left with no more.
"Fill me with sweets, and your honey kissed vernacular tonight."
but to me, I find that those who need ego-stroking will run me out of my high.

They tell me that my thoughts and actions will leave my young mind contrite and fretting.
Yet curiosity survives formal education,
so even with this piece of coded information
i still wanted to commit the crime and enter a realm of affirmation
The one that only you emulate
one of strong will
hope
and pretty flowered daisy chains
But in all reality , i am to stay here.
holding my own hand side by side,
watching stranger's fingers intertwine along side in syncopated time
during what, though divergent in style,was promised to be my 'glory days'...

I should be able to hear what everyone is saying...
The sudden realization serves as requiem in the form of a cool steel breeze
one that ebbs and flows to me
recounting a time of mindless days and apathy flooding in
Endless days
and hemorrhaged youth
conceive but don't produce
i'd like to think i'm all in and wise
but I really don't have a ******* clue
at least
not anymore

They say to take time with wounded hands, because they like to feel
But who the **** listens to THAT anymore?
We live in a world where ambivalence is feared, instead of felt
In sickness and in health there are just some secrets hidden by stealth
but people
people don't keep promises anymore...

Could you look me in the eyes and honestly say, that you're aware of the creatures that will try and chase you away?
Demise promises to whisper them sweet songs
Chemical induced lullabies to keep them at bay
at bay
and out of sight
But only if you say to me just like they used to that " Hey, everything is going to be okay"
or
" Everything will be alright "
But I suppose all this **** is in my head
Day dreams sewn with chronic anxiety and manic depressive thread will only make the button eyes for a teddy bear better left for dead.
And this toy you found was already water-logged and torn
and little boys who claim to be 'all grown up' tend to get easily bored
because for a 'man' who said he could love me through any weather
you sure didn't put up a struggle when water made the veins turn blue
atrophy
through
and through
along with your 'forgotten' 'love' letters
But I suppose people just aren't meteorologists anymore
and for your sake
I'm glad you found someone so much better.
God knows I wont