I have traveled from my home
to a place I thought could be my own

I now feel trapped in the grips of time
I now struggle to find my way in time

I  sleep to catch a break
only to be waken by reality

I try to fight another day
caught in same old ****** routine

I can only find peace
when I hear no voices

I sometimes feel like a child
that can't find his way

I don't like to hear people
tell me what is best for me

****, they don't even know me
Is their meaning real or condescending

I seem to misinterpret things
from time to time with uncertainties

I try not to lose it, feeling like a servant
to my own ****** up thoughts

I try to stop this self creation of self pity
That can only lead me to sin

I must break this mind set
and clear my head

or die before I wake instead

There's a part of me
she's often overlooked.
Gray in color,
it remembers my pain,
and what matter
she must think
when she's using
my other part
for her
good clean fun.
It hurts.

There are some things
meant to be left alone,
not ****** with.
Like monkey paws
and chicken bones,
dolls with pins,
ancient incantations,
those kinds of things.
And if you do not believe me,
go ahead and try one,
try all of them if you want.
I remember once
my good friend Jimmy
tried out a revenge spell
on an enemy of his.
Well, the guy went bankrupt
and we haven't seen Jimmy since.
There are stories circulating though--
visions of Jimmy seen running
through the woods
screaming on hellfire.
Thank God that only happens
once a month,
during the full moon
people dream it.
I heard his family still cries
and prays for him to come back home.
I also heard his father
was soliciting around town
for a monkey's paw.
That's a bad omen.