i never have liked uppercase i's
i know it's absolutely stupid
but they always make me feel more important than others
like i'm always saying I, I, I.

see even that was weird
way too many eyes
so i spend half my days, proofreading my lines
to make sure that i'm exactly the same size
as everyone else

when i first met you it absolutely blew me away
to find someone else who lowers their eyes
i'm serious, it's amazing to find someone who wastes as much time as yourself
hitting backspace, and
cursing auto-correct for not allowing this behavior

but after a while i noticed you stopped with the i's
maybe it was around the time **** got weird
maybe it was a fad; or i have some absurd superstition
but it's cool
You always were the bigger person, anyway.

i have visions of you sleeping well
in a dim-lit room, half-furnished house
these visions once told me you were alone, and cold
and this house... it wasn't a home

i had visions of you dreaming of me
longing for the few days, in which you return to me
sleeping on a mattress is never of ease
but not so bad when you have loving to look forward to

now here in my sleepless cavern those visions have changed
i still see you dreaming in sweet peace
but with another's arms wrapped around you
and this house is more furnished than i had thought

i no longer have visions of you coming home
with a smile on your face, and sweet treats in your hands
heart shaped budds and the sweetest finger hash
are no longer gifts, but regular occurrences

not since you told me, the way you think of me has changed
it's no longer good thoughts about our psychedelic whirlwind of a journey
but of the times we went awry

i'll never know what happened for those 3 days after we spent the night
i hope your phone died and wish that was the whole story
but these visions of you sleeping in a more-furnished house

make me think that house is now more of a home.

believe it or not there was a time
when my spirits were so high;
i soared on the warm currents of life
like an albatross with no direction needed for home

for most of my life i had believed
that i was the only person i need;
that nobody could bring my spirit
crashing down on the cold rigid shoreline

but i was wrong

i met the most wonderful girl.
let's call her beautifully broken
a soul that had been re-shaped;
had been twisted, tormented, from the inside
but had now chosen to display the most beautiful, perpetual smile.

she told me faintly about her past;
how it had beat her down, but she fought back
with every fibre in her little body
just to be happy like she deserves

maybe it was the way she wrote love stories on her arms
tales of bittersweet endings, that will never disappear
they fade, but remain forever
as if to say "real love sees no end"

i've never dealt well with blood
since the time my leg erupted like a volcano
this is why i still haven't cleaned her spill from my bathroom floor
and i move in 6 days.

i didn't know what it was like, to be her.
to hurt so bad.
to feel a pain that only subdues when she tattoo'd herself
as a constant reminder of our struggles

she told me she's absolutely fine
her inner battle has ceased
her freshest mark, like a line through my name
was the last one, to say the least

the thing is i believe her.
she may be little, but with a mind so beautiful, so strong
there is no more room for agony in that tiny body

this is why i'll help take it away
i'll be the sponge that ***** in all of the negative, the sadness, and hate

i have never felt this way in my life
and i believe my time has come.
to feel the weight of the world bearing down on me
slowly bringing my soaring, gliding soul
down toward the shore

i will take the weight
of your saddened years gone by
i will let it crush my insides
until these wings no longer fly

i only want her to be free
to soar on these warm currents of life
but i must absorb more pain and sever all my ties

because it's so hard to fly
when you have a dead, rotting albatross
hanging around your neck.

i'm all burnt out now
even though harsh winter's done
my chest is still tight

sometimes she would stand in my doorway
bright blue lace ******* that she knew were my favourite
and a little white shirt that was just a bit too small.

she'd enter my room ever so gently, after brushing her teeth in the morning
and pass me a stick of gum
to sweeten the taste of red wine and beer from the night before.

she would stand there in the doorway, with the cutest smirk on her dimpled cheek
and give her ***** a shake

as if to say
"yeah I'm cute, but how do you like me now?"

(she was always watching in the mirror anyway)

i would lay there and smile, and extend my reach
as she lightly pounced into my arms, and my bed

as if to say
"welcome home, sweetheart."
even though we'd just spent the night drunkenly dreaming

and warming each other's souls.

she would rest there smiling as i looked down from above
and tucked her hair behind her ears

i would kiss her 3 times;  on her third-eye and on her crown.

once because i loved her.
and twice more in case she didn't feel it the first time.

some days there was a look of wonder
an unknown amazement shining from her eyes

a look so indescribable, i can't help but think she wasn't real

couldn't have been real

but here she was beneath me.

staring up at me, as if i had the power to magically whisk us away, to a far away place

and here i am, convincing myself she wasn't real.

this is why i can't have nice things.

It's all in your head
Those whispers of revenge
That soothe your racing heart
Making it hard to swallow

You’re safe and sound
While you watch your friends
Hit the ground
You let them down again

Raise up
To your call of praise
To hand out those weapons
Which make them feel brave

Forget who you really are
Wear the mask of your disguise
Turn your head before you shoot the gun
And never look them in the eyes

You played the game once again
But the game is now your goal
You can take lives, but the victims instead
Take a bigger part of your soul

Your eyes of stone look soft to me
I can read what’s on your mind
It seems you’ve decided once again
To **** one of your own kind

It's all in your head
Those voices who ****
Who draw out your weapon
And give you their will

They’re safe and sound
Resting face first on the ground
Who dug this early grave for them?

Stand tall
Hold your head up high
Hold that gun in your hand
Bear no life in your eyes

Forget who you really are

It's all in your head

if there is one sure act to rekindle your inner peace, start by placing your hands upon the earth. feel the heartbeat of mother nature; accept her grace that travels up your arms as you reach into the soil. let the soft dirt be your beautiful mind and the seeds be your hopes, thoughts, and dreams.

you will feel a connection - an overwhelming sense of déjà-vu, like you have been here before; like you belong here. this is home.

i believe that god and mother nature know each other well, that they live inside everything that grows. be patient, and you will soon see them extending their arms out from the earth to You, bearing open hands full of fruits and flowers for Your soul.