When darkness creeps

She seems to die in the night, 

Laying her head down to rest. 

Accepting the surreal world she 

Sometimes doesn’t remember.

It isn’t exactly a place of death,

Where she stays each night. 

Yet, each morning she is reborn

As the sunlights stretches into her room,

Acknowledging it doesn’t take all day

To find the purpose of its glow.

I will devour the sky, and the storm it carries.
Biting down onto the hail that was destined for you.
The tornadoes tickling my insides,
while hurricanes drown out my thoughts.

If only I could,
                                                  steal crime
and hide
it deep within my darkest of shadows.
Where you can never find
                                                  the hatred or the lies
Of the human characteristics
that displays the routines of habit,
just to pay the mortgage,
and we pay, and pay.

So let me eat that too.
I heard that kind of paper is quite valuable,
and I don't mind if I'm already full.

I guess I just thought,
if the weatherman could lie,
just like the politicians,
why couldn't I?

It is not always simply the toss of a coin,
Or the words we choose to say,
But the pauses in between.
Not always black.
Not always white,
But sometimes gray.

Ohhh the **** I have read online.
The **** that erupts from our mouths,
and through our finger tips,
Mine of course included in that heap
of never ending opinions.

Hey, what buttons are you clicking on now?
Pressing, and touching.
All I hear is the click clack of nothing.
So go ahead, let these very words
distract, distract, distract
You.

Yeah, the world has changed.
Surely it has even rearranged its concepts and morals.
Just turn on the tube, and you'll see the explicit truth
displayed like the movement of our bowels.
**** I tell ya.
****.

It's concentrated into little advertisements
for the endless materials we don't need.
Saturated in the last morsel of humanity,
we disregarded the taste,
and chose to live in the corruption,
believing something
will save us.
We wait and do nothing,
expecting it to just happen.
Well wait no longer,
just keep browsing the web.
                  I'll probably just
continue
writing these words,
into your eyes they will be fed.

Maybe it's just my mind that has become rotten
in all the moments of life that were forgotten,
due to the distractions.
                               All the distractions.
I guess it's just difficult to grasp them,
but still, it is hard
Getting used to the stench our minds have created,
allowing ourselves to become jaded
in technology.

While without knowing
that we are telling ourselves,
                                               Why not let truth be left for the dusty books on the shelves.

I will, because I am too much of a coward to not.

                         The beat carries something more, something more than the blood that is pumping.  I'm not trying                                                           ­      to get carried away, but I guess I am being taken away.
      Somewhere I've never been.
Where                    strangers are more than just the friends I have acquired. 
        
              

               Your words are scattered and chattered all over the scenes of conversation. 


                              I don’t want this attention.

                Did you have a bag with you?
                One that interprets the truth of all that you hold,

                All that you carry? 

                
                Don’t look at me that way. 

                Don’t expect more than you can endure. 

                Our wishes, after all are just time
                spent wasted,

                So I choose to not let
                my knowledge leave me degraded. 


                Pushed to limits, and still believing in the words

                That hold us together, 

                Whether their argument is sound,   Or NOT. 

And here I am, caught and stuck
            In the tornado
      of self-destruction.
               Drink it in, forget without.
                     Who knows what it is that we feel, 
        
                   In the tangles of webs that we make our homes. 
         Erase, what, was, known,
Erase, the, words, that, have, been, absorbed.

Erase, and let
                       the world be new again.

My words aren't the juice you are searching for,
The words that will suddenly change your opinion,
about everything.
about anything.

My words are just words.

I wouldn't even consider them mine,
when it comes down to it.

The television lets you escape,
lets you live another life.
Why don't you just turn that television on,
instead of reading this.
Reading my words.

It doesn't matter,
Time will go on,
The alarm will go off,
Your routine awaits.

My stomach churns, my eyelids fall.
I feel so tired, but I long to be awake and filled with life.
Either my friends have abandoned me, or I have abandoned them.
I suppose it doesn’t really matter now,
Knowing that I am alone.
None the less, I shall create my own solitude.
I will bend, and try not to break.
I will break, and try not to be overcome by pity.

The past is what has made me,
My own actions have made my past.

There will be a tomorrow, I have never doubted it.
I have only been unsure of how I will withstand today,
How I will endure my corrupted mind until the sun again rises.

I don’t ask why anymore.
Those three letters have plagued me for far too long.

I do not ask for the winds to change, nor do I embrace it.
I just let it be, I just let.

How queer it is to be human,
For I am as human as they come,
As human as they go.
Sunken in sorrow, uplifted in joy,
Tormented by the truth, finding safety in lies.

When I was young I thought I could do anything.
In fact I thought I could do anything a few months ago.
But change has come, and doubt has leaked into my everything.