my words mean
nothing
to you but
everything
to me

She waged a silent war
on his smile
some mornings.

Because she knew
--if he tried--
he could grasp her
by those white flags.

And all too easily
she'd surrender.

"Wasn't it beautiful when you believed in everything?"

- Infinite silence. -

"Everything becomes real after you realize
How many people don't care about you."

"You might not know this,
But I'd go out of my way
Just to make sure you're okay,"
[She said with a downcast glance.]

"I don't think I'm emotionally stable enough for that."

- Suddenly, it's hard to breathe. -

Sometimes I get so sad that
I completely shut down...
And I feel like it's easier to sail away
With sadness
Than to battle the current
Trying to make my way back
To shore.

"When did this happen?
When did your scars become on purpose?"

"Just go and leave me alone."

"I miss the days when things were simple,"
[She whispered as she softly shut the door.]**

I stare blankly at the wall,  
And it doesn't matter
what anyone says to me
Because in that moment,
I don't exist.

You and I were different,
But it all started with a smile.

We came from different worlds,
And I actually believed you loved me.

After everything, I must confess
I need you.

But you never came back.

I think the worst part wasn't losing him...
it was losing me.

But there are no happy endings:
Endings are the hardest part.

Like a fist full of steel it needs no introduction.
swaying violently...  
swaying brutal.
a pit of madness awaits its adversary.

It bleeds in colour.
  Psychedelic colour, forthwith a hazy trance.
Producing a rapture of spiral descent, into a blackness unknown
and then...  
it bleeds in black.

Its a blood drunk that drinks spirits of the human kind through a straw.
A fear monger provokes phantasmagoria.
It holds no mercy, no sympathy, no alliance
only self discovery.

Face your fear monger
live your dream.

*Gene

When I was eight I got very sick.
I got to eat mac n cheese on the couch,
and drink chocolate chip milkshakes.
Today I felt sick.
So I made some mac n cheese,
and I sat down on the couch.
I wanted the milkshake.
I didn't have any chocolate chip ice cream,
So I made strawberry.
Then I sat at the counter and looked at my mess.
The milk was out,
The ice cream was uncovered and melting
The blender was on its side.
It looked very sad.
Like it was a Roman village I had just conquered.
I killed all the strawberry milkshake children.
They had such bright futures until they drowned
In a puddle of one percent milk.
I discovered I don't like strawberry milkshakes that much.
And now I have a mess in the kitchen,
My car needs gas,
And I smell like cigarettes and self deprivation.
And everything is easier when you're eight and your mother cooks you your special sick person dinner.