Falling
Fleeting
This disaster repeating
A relapse
Small words
Make them easy to understand
I can't think to much
There is no permanence
I can only see what's in front of me
Little dreams
I strung them along
I tried to see the line
Trying to connect them all
Little droplets
I don't know if they are tears
Another relapse
Mistakes and mistakes
Again and again
I find my self here
Walking the line between dreams and reality
But both directions are dark
And I can barely breathe

The most beautiful thing is a star just prior to dying
As a final breath it expels fire
Leaves a trail of future galaxies
It cuts scars upon the universe
A legacy that will remain for a millennia
Stars; they are most human when they die

Another 'never again' stems from your lips
As I drip
Drip
Drop
****** nose and feet bound by tired eyes I can't escape
They bind me with a poor mans history
As my body changes its hues
Foundation, layered on so thick
If they ask I'll say it was a love bite-
They'll either get it or they won't
I am just a piece of meat being slowly torn
Please just break the remainder of my flesh

Treat the flower in a dead field not as a statement but a marker
It stands in the corpses of fallen comrades as they slowly waste to earth
A gravestone at most, a parasite to all that its roots once knew
It will probably thrive more from their bodies then it did in their company
Dull linen hung over a coffin, a decorative use for a tragedy
Like broken signs, they always point in two different directions
Follow your mind and go off track, follow your heart and risk it breaking
Understanding is key, that is all you can strive for
To know those around you, to connect and touch hearts
Realize how much energy they take and wait
Watch them waste into a morning sun that does not rise
Then soak in what you've experience, be mournful yet strong
A gravestone if you will, turn into a name and a date
Become nothing but a stencil for children
Burnt paper and the past

I've made being depressed a habit
As if ceasing this life would make me feel less tired
Pretend that I learned something new to appease this emptiness;
Stuffing filth in bloodied wounds does not heal them
Bandages will never fully heal closed scars
Dying will never help this uselessness
I can only stay here, in between alive and dead
The catatonic state that I'm so used to

God I wish for something more
Empower me until said power sours me
Bitter poison, take a bite
Give me a reason for an extra step
I don't care if the stairs lead me no where
I just need something to climb

I'm not in the position to be wasting others time
You see I am simply a being of habit
Let me run, let me soar
The world can't bind expression
So give me something new
Give me more

Oh sweet little Rose, you act as if I hadn't known
For days, for weeks, of your betrayal

The side words of a horror story- he wanted to die
He said the same words to remove layers of clothes
Said those same words to get a track record of assault

That manipulation would finally see justice
Children would be free of adult hands
But you, little Rose, have killed a damning testimony

Returning to a monster, a ******
I knew it would happen- you return to what gives you attention

I want to know when the lies started
You treated him like a bad guy for so long
Were those all words to assure my comfort

Words to make me think it was fine, that my family could sleep
Yet it appears a court order wasn't even enough to do that
The man that haunted my family was 10 feet from my home

And even then I knew
So enjoy the facade of tonight, it will be the last

I wonder if I ever truly loved someone
Or these memories of past fires are fraudulent
Tiny lies so I can talk to my friends about the mundane
Useless drama, useless talks, little excitements
Little spats.
I'm tired of these tiny lies I tell to myself

Sometimes I remember the scorn of my family,
Effigies of bloodlines crossed into a tired face.
I remember my mother,
Her vice was appearance-
Not her own but that of others.
Every day was judgment
She’d pick us before we bloomed and left wilted children
Questioned the lack of fruit
Not with self-deprecation but with scorn
How dare we cross the farmer who sowed the seeds and watered the crops?
How dare we look towards the sky for comfort?
When that cold trowel could dig in our necks.

I remember one time my mother asked me if she was the problem
A lie, I’ve heard that question many times
How can you curse a broken human more than she does herself
And somewhere in my head, I justify it
Consider the kindness built on vanity to be kindness nonetheless
Flowers do not need to be alive to be beautiful
They can be so frailed and dried up they become immortal
A crumbling tombstone of decay
And we marvel at them
And I remember that I am a product of my mother

My voice is much more hoarse now
Whether from overuse or under-use I can't quite tell
As each word connects, the progression of my voice slowly fades
Like a shouting whisper I return to silence
Breath has become a dire marker in my attitude
Strangely it speaks like that of a slow moving drop despite it all
Calm and quite, as was I, as was the breath

Once again I have become self ruinous
I face atrocities made by my own engineer
Lifeless; like a lovers suicide
Just me and my procrastination by me
We leap
Waves become the earth as we slumber six feet down
Like seafoam
Watch as I collapse and fade with the water

You ask me why I don't want to go to college, to have kids
Like I haven't thought of the possibilities
Of having years of experience combined and passed on
But you locked the door and swallowed the key
I could buy a house for a doctorate
Feed my family for a masters
Pay for my medical fees with a bachelors
Drive to work for an associates
All just numbers, no rhyme or reason
Jokes about jumping in front of a train to avoid student loans
The thought is a holy grail idea to some
I won't throw my kid or any other human into this world by will
Where the police that guide the free make us afraid to move
I will not have kids, I will not go to college
Because if I do I'll lose more of myself
I have so little left
And I'm still selling any dreams I have left for pennies

A goodnight kiss
Sing me a whispered lullaby
Let moonlight be our only cover
And sink with me into slumber
So brief, let our thoughts fade to one
Until our embrace silences the world

With each thought comes disaster, a living corpse hung high
Oxymorons and illegitimate thoughts, broken voices
Tomorrow is the future but another days past
When it all ends there will only be dust
Rumbling pixie dust from nonexistent faeries
It's time to pull the batteries out of the controller
Auto pilot feels so good
Like tomorrow won't happen, never said those words
Just like that, stand still, stand tall
Eat your words as they leave, rot through your gums
Hang men with the melody that leaves your notes
Only then beg for solid thoughts, for one line
To end the thinking
Intoxication is so cruel, it let's me forgive my own tongue
How scornful

When will things change?
Don't get me wrong- I love a good tragedy, greedily eat words off pages that depict horrors beyond my own imagination.
I'd be the first one to laugh in a shooting, clap as the plane goes down.
Watch as another monster wearing a skin or religion becomes all that wardrobe is known for;
It's easy to see horror as comedy because of the gross recreations we see on TV, media paints a picture of a society where kids are shot in alleyways; where politics are like sport, one side needs to go home with an empty net
For what cause or reason?
Unknown and unspoken the general consensus is to agree with like minded individuals.
Because if that guy says that he's a terrorist right? If person A is afraid of person B than A is clearly the racist one, right?
Or am I missing the point, is this all misconducted, these stories make Shakespearean plays seem realistic.
If a kid can be shot because he speaks another tongue does the radical suicide of two star crossed lovers really seem that insane?

I didn't give them blood because it was all I had left to give
It was only that I valued my own time so much more
Wallowing in a trench was more important then talent
So I lied and said I did all I could
That I did so much and tried to get so far
But blood has only ever fed the heart not the mind
So what I gave was all forgotten
All I had left was this ******* time
Half wasted out of hope, half still slinking down;
A rabbit whole filled with aspirations of all I've ever wanted to be
Childhood dreams all scribbled out in desperation
I should've taken the easy way out when I had the chance
But a void made with blood can not be ended with slaughter
I'll just add to this red sea, hoping to fill my sight in a solid tone
So I can't see any of my past

This is a document that you will never save
The unspoken words between you and him
Apologies
Things that can now never be sent
You copy them over, once maybe twice
Afraid that if you completely delete them they are gone
They never existed
Just like the apologies you meant to say
They fell flat before even reaching your fingertips

There is a heavy insistence from those close to me that I'm better.
That this dip in my improvement is nothing more than temporary.
After all most flowers must wilt before they truly bloom.
But I am bitter, I feel nothing from these roots.
A shadow of years of practice.
I doubt that I am a necromancer and my talent is dying;
If I try to remain on this path I'll die a failure.
Maybe I should go against my goals for money or fame
Something I can grasp that won't pass through my fingers.
Baby steps towards a future I didn't prepare for but one I'll survive.

Come one, come all, see the resurrection of the self-victimizing *****!
See her weave a noose out of others sorrows!
See her cry wolf before a crowd!
See her grasp to the comfort strangers comments can give!
Yes! Come one, come all, see the destruction of the self-victimizing *****!
See her become the leech she is**.

My skin aspires to be more than just a doll, a story, a song.
More then just a picture book, more than something you only read in bed
Not bound by leather or the clothes on my back
Call me an individual, for that is all I want to be
We strive for normality when all we want is peace
A peace that can only come when we realize we aren't art
We are not paintings to just for viewing
We are history itself; we are not one idea
I do not strive for greatness, I strive have a place to stand
A tree in a forest of graves

A reflection is just that, colors and light colliding
A personal connection between you and the walls
Binding your soul to the very ground you stand
Bending light ever softly
Little shadows are your armed guards
They'll protect your mind in the dead of night
Revelations over the shadows, a tea party of silence
No sleep, no thought provoking answers
A meaningless existence that exists to have meaning
Thoughtless turns, sighs, unwavering eyes
Paranoia- the curtain surrounds you in dusk
Awaiting your awakening
The only thing that blesses your eyes is exhaustion
Slamming shut the doors that smokey glances feared
Finally, as dawn approaches, it is time to sleep

A dash of color to express
Phase against a monochrome body
I dress in black
Perhaps out of convenience
Or a sign of financial insecurity
My nails are all that sing
Colors that are oh so bold
So light to the touch

Today's another illusion, another dissolution with my reality
A casualty of war; a mind that can't handle sanity
The thoughts of thought long forgotten, independent
Exceeding all that was perceived, a unseen precedent
Of minds throwing thorns at the throats of lost children
Dreams of a crippled life of being hidden
That ripple beyond the dead sun and burdened eyes
We finally see nothing beyond the lies;

Silence and sullen breaths
We are all tired now
Sick from a life of thinking
So I sink, deep into my thoughts as they rip me open
Both a horrifying and comforting embrace
I sleep
Knowing all these thoughts shall drain
Never to be seen
Never to cross my lips
Calmly dying in the reservoir of my mind
Like birds trapped in a cage

"I am happy because it is all I can be,"

The just becauses' twisting around your tongue as another statistic sticks in your teeth,

"I'm not alone."

Are words coated in the sweetness of pretense, the inevitably suicidal thoughts of a generation give you solace,

"I'm feeling good today"

Words you use to describe the fact you can't play your favorite video game any more, without the guilt of not know if you'll ever go back.

"I'm tired"

And for once the honesty comes out like a sewage leak; there is a harmony of agreeability in your statement, the words both acknowledged and ignored.

"Goodnight"

To toss and toil you lay your bones and finally close your eyes, thoughts wildly awake but silence envelopes you.

I want to leave this place
I fear if I stay too long my roots will stick to the ground
I'll be dependent on this soil to survive
This concept is not abstract
It is a normality among the young
We haven't been exposed to the bird that never leaves the nest
So us soaring far off seems possible
So possible
But we only dream in impossibilities

Air
I'm at a loss of words
Breathing
Heart beating
Faster and faster
Warm breath collides
Lifeless
Warm and fleeting
A body
A corpse
Rotting disaster
Maggots dig in
We melt in the ground
Branching out
Plants
Life
Lifeless
A gravestone
Sign your name on the x
And breathe