Strumming the guitar



I keep writing down the year as if it means anything to me dear
I don't feel connected,
just another spirit lost
gone is that turned leaf.
And his mother still faces him in his wildest nightmares and keeps him home,
and his mother cries tears and whiskeys down her pain. She can't do this on her own
but she's holding on; for the sake of them both.


It makes him happy to know that he was actually a part of the family before he left
and I can't speak for him but i sure know when someone loses their mind again
better keep it on the down-low, because nobody wants to go to detoxification home, no.


So, I won't report
and he sings with me, and he lives with me and he loves me indeed. He just can't see about me,  can not even breathe...
and you can't even see.

Our ideas linger together, and it makes us both in company just like it should be.

A tumbleweed, floating through the vacant desert.
A comic scene for those in silence.
A disastrous nightmare to those behind a big dream.

I'm your master you are my puppet.
We get along with the sickness in our stomachs.
My endless desire to show you what it means to be wired. I'm the the show choir let's build an empire,
they don't know the connection that soothes this void.
They **** what they destroy,
I made what creates hauntings to invade.
Our truth would surely set us far back.

For days upon days, come on! Time to play!
For they don't see the black in our face.

With a stabbing at your pending shallowness, I reel  in the blackness of such a fight we have endured.
And as we battled the shadows lurking  our way fourth, we agreed on a reason for our fleeting absences.
Climbing on the wall, ticking up to a time bomb when your everlasting embrace becomes my most valued mistakes.
I tried to disgrace your name as I run fast out of the tunnel, risky flames spewing towards me.
They're not entitled to keep me sane. It is you who once again leave muddy footprints as you walk in acid rain.
Tracking a path to the complexities of where you leave me in a bundle of distorted images.
I'm not as wrecked as they claim me to be. I'm not just a shell of who I want to be. I pushed past those  fatal plans in front of me.
I evolved into a creature worthy of will and of ability.
The offering I bestow onto the table is every being of you that I pretend is still with me.
When I fish out the best characteristics we had,
I blow up to find that it is more lethal than anything cancerous.

Beauty is in the eye of the beholder.
Yet, people smolder every meaning of the word beauty.
Taking procedures in order to obtain this image of perfection, but it is right built inside of you. Believe it or not, whatever you need you got!
Reading this now with your eyes, heart beating to the sound of survival.

Educating yourself on how to accomplish revival because you are dead.
The laughter comes in sequences syncing perfectly to those begging for attention.
Revolt revolt!
Build a catapult to launch yourself away from here.

Lose yourself in all the sincere.
Perform a test to see if you're the best.
“You are defeat compared to the rest!”
Start to dress to impress when the prevalence isn’t up to par,
spending days alone at empty bars.

“Dare to make a move!”
“It won’t improve you.”
“You got nothing to lose!”
“Yeah, well how about your skeleton starting a rebellion? You’re yelling, starting to tell your children the beginnings of this addiction.”

It swallows you whole, your body is totaled.
Now, you’re in the rusting pile of traveled miles of rot...
Forgetting what you are what what you’re not.

I heard you today,
Little heart beat
safe beneath.

How do some make a trash bag of a creature so innocently?

To suckle
and feed you off
so dangerously.

You fresh leaf,
“life long” responsibilities scares Them
so their priorities must recede

But you are no mess,
sweetie
Come hold onto me
You angel,
born from angry breaths

I’ll swaddle you
from Night and Day until it’s sunrise and sunset

Tuck a blanket under your baby face

I am Your Mother, whether DNA
may or may not say

I am Your Mother, with me you lay
#love   #sad   #sweet   #maternal

Shards of glass, they are pieces of The broken past.
All the while, my brain is disintegrating.

While love has a lack of radiating, it sure knows how to sedate you.
Stage one of figuring out, is learning how to levitate off the ground, no need to come back now.

Raised up, aligned with signs warning me I'm far behind.
Reaching for other sides, because so far it is too black and white.