Tick... Tick... Tick... Tick...
With the clock hanging on the wall,
Here I am to hear the noises,
To close my eyes and remember them all,
The echo of no sound through the room,
The absence of footsteps down the hall,
The only sound a lonely clock,
Hanging, fading on the wall,
Tick... Tick... Tick... Tick...

Full moon... Full moon...
Shine your light down on the sea.
Caress the beast inside of me.
Let me know you're there.
Full moon... Full moon...

Can I ask you a question?
How are you so **** comforting,
When you're a million miles away?
Full moon...
How can I be patient,
If I want to see you,
I'll have to wait and wait all day?
Full moon...

Twinkle twinkle little star,
Admire beauty from afar.
Twist my lone and eager heart.
Full moon... Full moon...

Heal all my hurting wounds.
Douse the pain in rays of you.
Make it disappear.
Full moon...

Ever felt sharp needles like ice,
But nothing to blame when you open your eyes?
Like existence is nothing when the mind is awake,
Or when your mind is gone all your body can do is shake.
When essence communicates all that needs to be said,
The flowers won't wilt and the leaves won't turn brown, yellow, or red.

Drowning in an abyss of sorrow
Thoughts only to be forgot tomorrow
Let me drown those evil words,
In absurd ideas that could start wars
I preach it not to feel the burn
Like heaven's hot and hell's not stern
My ice, my castles all in all
Don't try to go up expecting not to fall
Don't crown the king and say it's wrong
Just dance along with winter's song

Excellent, a new beginning, a fresh start. Don't you just love that feeling when you start something new, contribute something to existence. It truly is a very amazing thing. What can come from the human mind, are thoughts so complex. Beyond animal instinct, domesticated in such a way that we have made it past just simple civilization. We are interesting creatures, but all in all, we're nothing more than mere animals surviving in the ways that we know how.  

    There are so many things that exist, I'm not being narrow at all. In existence, there are so many things to know, to acknowledge. The down side of that is that we, in our lives, have no chance of obtaining even a fraction of all the knowledge that is floating around somewhere in this plane. So all we can do, is live as much as we can to obtain as much as we are able to. We can still try right?

    I guess the one thing all of us lack nowadays is the incentive to do anything, the will. But one day, all that we've lost will not be in vain. We have the power to make our lives happy, even though most of the times we don't want to.

    Dreams, the quick escape of reality. But do you ever really know if you're dreaming or not? I mean, who says that dreaming has to be in your sleep? I like to feel that I'm dreaming right now. Sitting here at three thirty-six in the morning, unable to sleep and sitting in the dark on my computer, the TV as background noise to keep away a sense of loneliness, typing away ideas like mad. Isn't that dreaming too? You feel immersed in what's happening in creations of your own mind. You ARE the characters. You have the power to make a whole world based around a certain idea, a certain fragment of a thought. You could continue on and on forever.

    What about when you're wide awake? Staring off into space, tapping on your desk. Or lost in your thoughts staring at a wall in your job, doing your work mindlessly, off in another dimension. How is that not a dream? Why can't we escape all the time? Why do we have to set restrictions for things that want to take off and fly?

    Maybe I'm just rambling, hoping someone will listen to my thoughts because I feel that thoughts are one of the most precious things that we have. You could look first glance at someone and think you know who they are, but in all actuality, you have to crack their thoughts, get a look inside to obtain the knowledge of who anyone is.

    People could be anything. That's the scary part. Who to trust, who is going to hurt you, ******* over, leave you stranded on your own. How do you know you actually know someone? How do you know if anyone knows you? How do you know if you know yourself?

    This is what leads us to question reality. To find what's real, what's life. Aside from the spoon fed, structured perfect life the media wants us all to live. The stereotypical people of our country. This is what leads us to break out, to free our minds. To reach the limits and pass the expectations of what anyone could have ever though life was.

    But awakening is only the beginning, what I'm wondering, is what we're all in store for next...

I feel....
Empty space.
My mind echoes colors off the walls,
Created entirely of nothing..
This is where I live when I feel lost.
These are the depths of my world.
How do you begin to describe your
Inner sanctum
Without defying the mystery and tranquility  of all this silence..?
As if the forests would set fire
Burning to paper and ash  if told
Out of rhyme.
Like all the Fae would escape and die.
But do we even stop to wonder why?
This is my place
It's my  escape. *
Life doesn't always require the masquerade.

We are all torn paper dolls
No sounds we make when we do fall
Could etch into our porcelain skin
How easy paper is to bend
We have been cut and ripped and folded
Dipped into glue mached and molded
I have learned I am not that thin
My will remains though paper bends
I know we all are paper dolls
One by one in line to fall
I thought us weak until I knew
The falls were a choice
Instead I flew

I can tell the future,
Let me know your past and present,
Let me be the one,
Please let me feel important.
I opened my eyes to the world,
I gained the knowledge word for word.
Don't tell me my reality could be absurd.
Don't leave me caged up like a bird.
I can see the silver lining.
Glowing bright and softly shining.
Like the world is good for something.
Live your life and love the loving.
Escape reality with or without me,
Take the sun and moon along for tea.
Dance for electricity, and avoid all the calamity.
Crash like waves onto the shore,
Leave beauty always wanting more.
The millionth heart already torn.
Crash like waves along the sea.
Let the music flow through me.
Escape reality with or without me,
Take the sun and moon along for tea.
Dance for electricity, and avoid all the calamity.

I press my ear to the door of the seekers,
flames from the heart of a phoenix light my path like lanterns across the sky is now the glimmer in my eyes.
Hope.

I feel, in the soul, in the belly of the beast.
Flaming coals burning holes in canvas paintings of the East.
At least I know I've been learning captioned lullabies.
Uncovering truths as day by day the lyrics have come to unwind.

My dad is a rock,
He is tough, and I've tried.
But I hope that someday we'll find crystals inside.
Or he'll stop punching holes through the walls of people's lives.
With bleeding fists,
I wish his anger would find a cave and go hide.

My mom is like magma,
she sits and she steeps.
She takes rocks and she melts them into pools around her feet.
She erupts in spurts of vulnerable untruths,
And hot anger that scars, chars, and burns anyone standing close to her.
But when lava sits, and when it has dried.
From the infertile past battlegrounds,
Forests will rise.

Sun, Moon
Day, Night
Yin-Yang
Black,White
My feet connected,
latched to dirt.
We lack our balance
on this Earth.
Just feel the roots,
feel the world.
We're all one light,
just watch it burn.
Like a lantern,
like candles bright.
The moon can't truly be hidden
behind the night.

The vibration hums.
It sews together the matrix
we can't see beyond.
Blinded by all light sometimes
feeling is all the sight, you need.
Inward is the escape.
And the final Frontier,
may be the graveyard we fear.
Stars mapping the space we're given
between god for our own development.
We've been here before
that's why I know
but we're meeting for the so called first time.

We all have spirits,
reoccurring,
I think we come back,
we're always learning.
Taking steps to fill the void.
They say matter can't be created
nor destroyed.
Take a look at your laws
of Conservation of Matter.
Yet you still call us crazy.
Aren't you seeing the pattern?
Order, chaos, life, and birth.
Is lying to yourselves all that you thought it was worth?
I see through the glass,
a kaleidoscope of visions.
We can't remake the whole world
through cellular fission..
Or can we?...

If we were allowed to sing a Pagan song
With our drums in the open
No people telling us it's wrong
With paupers and dancers
Bonfires burning, nights are long
Maybe we could get closer to our peace
Maybe we could love one another
Maybe we can finally say
We really are just sisters and brothers

Don't believe in restrictions,
You'll only find yourself living up to your own expectations....
Don't let the world bring you down,
Just be your own and just be patient.

Time, an essence of insanity.
An image of morality.
Stuck in the flow of the world,
A whirlpool of nauseous hate.
Tick away without society.
Like smoke and mirrors,
A clock is an illusion.
An objectified piece of angst
With moving hands behind glass.
Time is nothing.
Time means nothing.
And shall forever continue to be nothing,
In the eyes of the people who see...

Find that stillness,
And dance to the sound.
Those thoughts, emotions so profound
With strings to tie our hearts to stay,
With knots to bound our every hate
With love to numb the pain away,
With every move to make tomorrow today.
So let the silence finally create,
Something precious,
Or somewhere to escape.

What to write when you can't write at all,

Expialidocious for writers one to all.

To once, was and always will be.

A block to stop the flow of creativity.

To break the dam of written lust,

Chant Explialidocious.

What to say when nothing's to say?

To say again and again,

Just relax, take a ride on the merry go round.

Just watch it spin and spin.

Colors, words, thoughts, emotions,

Swirl around in pots like potions.

What to chant to break the hex?

Expialidociousness.

Drift, just like I didn't ever exist right? Just let me float away, no anchor, no support, no reason to stay. Why reality? Why does it always have to be life itself that's the one that stings? The one that brings you back to the beginning, wondering how you could stray so far. I need some shelter soon, shelter from myself. I feel all of it breaking, listening to the sound of the success crunching under my foot like broken glass.

     It's just a shot away..

    Just break me off already, leave me in my ******* head more than I already am. Leave me to think myself to sleep after two days of restless worry about nothing in particular. Nothing. That's it right? That's what we value so much. Nothing. It destroys me more than any drug. It kills me faster than a slit to the throat. I feel it breaking me down.

   It's just a shot away....

    The only one, I happen to be the only one hopeless. Optimism running low. Ready to explode in madness. It's always got to be alone huh? Suffering? The funny part is that they don't even notice. Masking is just the easy part. I feel it all so close. So close to touch... Freedom.. Why can't I reach it?

    It's just a kiss away...

    I taste it, I feel the life coursing through me. I feel my heart pumping in my chest, the blood flowing through my body, the wheels spinning in my core. I feel my existence passing by in seasons. Why is it so hard to achieve? The urge is so thick that I can slice it with any quick movement, motivation at an all time low.

    It's just a shot away...

    Truthfully, I know that in the future, none of this will matter to me. These petty problems will be a thing of the past when we only have room for the present. But when we only have room for the present, we tend to forget the future, and that tomorrow will be today someday. None of this is called for, but it has to be. So it will, and it will continue to. No matter how hard we try. All of it...

    It's just a shot away...

Let me go through your mind,
Through the forests,
Through the times.
Let me collect all the pieces,
Unmask those secrets hidden in rhyme.
Like puzzle pieces to put into place,
Defined by irony, thoughts now lost in space.
You can't hide your hatred with lots of silk and pretty lace,
You can't run from yourself, it's a meaningless chase.

Crystallize my heart,
Freeze me to the core,
Rip my soul to shreds
And leave me like before.
Hollow out my eyes,
My dreams becoming lies,
Make my pain grow stronger,
This aching I despise.
Leave it to the best,
Just press and press and press.
Maybe if I try,
In peace I'll finally rest.
My idols fall again,
My heroes all lie dead,
Close your eyes in anger
And rest your precious head.

I don't have a heart,
Yet it always gets broken.
Take me away to Oz
Cause I can't be outspoken .
Rusty hinges as I swing away the axe,
Broken cogs churning they all turned their backs.
Oil won 't relieve this ache,
It hurts because I'm nothing but fake.
Take the yellow brick road cause there's no place like home,
But I don't have one so I sit here alone.
I don't have a heart yet it always gets broken,
Take me away to Oz
Cause I can't be outspoken.
Nobody knows how hard and long I've yearned.
But you don't get what you want so I might as well learn.

Ever felt like you're drowning?
Yet the air seems too dry to stay.
But you don't say anything,
Because no one cares enough to read this anyway.
My marks on paper,
Pen to the page.
To console my anger,
To empty out my rage.
Are all just vessels,
Do my poems sound the same?
Because words run together,
Just give it a new name.
When did I get this **** self conscious?
I'm trying to hide it
I'm trying to get better.
But all I see in front of me,
Are my streetlights getting dimmer.

Open your eyes,

The world has been calling.

Inviting you to its sweet awakening.

Open your eyes,

It's colors bending.

Not working in the reality of physics.

To run rampid in the sky,

Just open your eyes.

Shadows dancing on the walls

Whispering they softly call

chanting me to sleep

And in the darkness they all weep

Kissing away an ounce of burning light

Leaving me with only lonely fright

Cure me of it all

Blame it on the shadows dancing on the walls

They sent us here to feel the burn,
To pretend like it doesn't hurt.
To take our skies and crash them down.
To fill our lungs and make us drown.
But we'll be free that one is sure,
Out of our darkness we can find the will to be pure.
Like tulips we can become clean,
They can hurt us but they can't take our dreams.

Honestly,
I hurt myself today.
Just to make sure it was all okay.
Just to feel in some sort of way.
Just to watch myself decay.
I hurt myself today.

I broke,
I lost.
Overwhelmed with exhaust.
To get me back at any cost.
From day to day, whirled and tossed.
I can't believe I broke,
I lost.

Honestly,
I hurt myself again.
I didn't think my will was this paper thin.
To take the razor and cut the skin.
I didn't mean to hurt myself again.

Honestly,
I guess that's just the price you pay.
To let it take the pain away.
To let it make your thoughts astray.
That's just the price you pay.
To know you're gonna hurt yourself today...

Matter of opinion, opinion has no matter. It has essence, force. We believe what we see although looks can be deceiving. An ever changing, trial and error, roller coaster of a belief system, huh? Oh curse our ****** humanity. Gaining an eternity of knowledge only to realize that you're still ten times more stupid than the next million people. That's just how it's always going to be. Thank our ****** humanity. The ability to feel pity, empathy, compassion. The things that show we truly have our own will power, and not some pawn in someone else's game. A double edged sword, forever a pain in our *****..

She walks down the hall in silence. The chirping of birds cheerily taunting from views of closed windows. Locked inside a placewhere naivety is not only taught, but spoon fed. Bangs in her eyes as she hums a tune, focusing only on the tapping of her steady feet, clothed in black Converse on the tiled school floor, dreaming of a day where anything could be better. At least that's the start of hope. The blooming of something new. When alone and stuck in the flow, one tends to try and break free.

Her voice spits hatred but her heart seeps peace. Why can't she voice the opinions the breathes? The only way to express it is to bleed. The razor makes pain but it makes her not feel. The darkness has shown her that it is the king. She puts her fingers on the frets and then starts to sing. "Pain, pain don't go away, stay for just another day. I have no more that I can say, lets just hope death is on it's way."

What lies in the confides of these pages.
A black hole to capture an artist's rages.
In whatever form, pictures or words.
They always come down, constantly crashing in hoards.
Beware I say, of what you might see.
What could be my mind's eye, of what's truly me.
Written in books, bound by leather,
Caught in dream catcher strings to keep me out of the Ether.
Be careful I say, of what you might see.
What could me by mind's eye, of what's truly me...

Thoughts are like rain,
To slide right off of the heads of our leaders
Like drops off umbrellas.
Only to collect on the ground,
Broken and bruised,
To start a massive flood.

Let my eyes roam the world and my mind roam my self, my center. The middle seven of my being, spinning endlessly til eternity allows complete enlightenment. Bound to these wheels we climb, resting our heads on the back of mother snake. Dig your roots deep to feel the connection, floating down a river with no end, liberating and manifesting opposites working together in complete harmony. Maybe we should give it a try...

As I wept and layed upon
The ashes of
My love among
The hardly dead
And hardly dying
Fields of flowers
Lost but trying
Out
The different ways
They say to make it
In this mess

Once Fate has closed
The blackened box
What can you do
To pick the lock?
What can you do
But grieve and rock?
While one way only
Moves the clock

I see my Goddess in the skies
In the stars and moon that make the night
I see her beauty in the world
I can't describe it word for word
It's like a feeling in my core
With my circle drawn upon the floor
Those moments when you can't help but dance
Those moments lost inside a trance
When your feet pound the ground just right
The flames that seem to burn all night
Engulfs it's whole surrounding with light
It covers everything in sight
Who's to say that this is not right?

Whisper softly, so discrete.
Chanting along to the beat.
This is no enormous feat.
These blank pages just called out to me.

Remember me, I beg. For those playful lost times I cherish until my bitter sweet death, and here I lay, just a breath of the past pushed away in the corner of your memory, a ghost you once said you would always hold close, what lies. How foolish could I be? To trust on ones promises, the words for the weak. For hours of roads lay between your faded out words, forgotten and longed for that comfort just once more. Press me out of your heart for I no longer matter. I wish for the wings of Icarus, but the bliss of ignorance burned out once more by the sun and thrown into the sea, don't let me fall. Remember me, I beg.

There is a girl
At the end of the hall
With thoughts like rain
Her back pressed to the wall
Her words untamed
She won't be changed
With her beautiful voice
So soft it charms snakes

But behind closed doors
You never know
What she could be thinking
Or what she could know
What she's hiding
How she's grown
How she's dying
To at least be known

But she'll carry on
With open eyes
She'll find her way
Be more the wise
She'll fan the fire
Before it dies
In attempts to make up
For those previous lies

I am the light
The fire inside
To make you hopeful
Make you bright
I am the one to wear down the path
To finally learn to close my wrath

I am the one with sticks and stones
Though I don't think I'd use them to break any bones
Send a letter
Don't trust the phone
They're listening in
Though they think we don't know

Beauty is in the eye of the beholder. Everything takes a certain direction, rather it be the direction to take multiple directions or otherwise. Existence is merely one step above reality, which in its own is only what we perceive. So what about that moment, that exact second when you realize what exactly reality is? What is it like that second that you open your eyes to the world? What is it like, the second when everything becomes lucid?...

They were not the way we are,
I wonder what their minds would find,
Within our planes and trains and cars,
Within our ticking clocks and time,
Today, tomorrow is not far,
We keep the future in our minds,
Though yesterday, as far as stars,
We do forget that it is fine,
To remember hearts were weighed in jars,
And kids weren't taught to toe the line.

Just a poets thoughts at two-thirty in the morning,
A light to discard all the mourning.
None of this makes sense but all just lingers,
In my thoughts tied around my finger.
Into words I type them down.
In rhymes in rhythms and music I drown.
A penny for your thoughts they say,
For words and tales of yesterday.
Waiting for the present to end,
We'll stay wrapped in memories of broken friends.

Time escalates by leaving me time to think. How many times have I stood, staring in the mirror, blinking away the tears, each image coming clearer?

    Time shattering truth in anger, each shard cutting deep but each cut cutting deeper. Alone on the floor, myself against my wrist, crying on the phone, hearing the clock as it ticks.

    Standing on a bridge, screaming at the sky. Picking each Iris, crying and asking why. Rain may wash away the tears but you're always left crying, wishing away the years.

    They tell me all the time, "You are not alone" but all that I touch, just rots and turns to stone. Hourglasses turning in hands, keep restarting the never ending sands. Make time last, I can't. But remembering is a curse, in which will be grand...

Collaborate,
that moment when you realize
you aren't what you thought.
But I guess nature comes in seasons
All we can do is rot.
To fake all our reasons,
to say we forgot.
Excuses, excuses.
They can be all we've got.

Excuses or not,
there is no reason to stop.
Every moment we live comes in direct correlation with what we give.
And these people don't hesitate to take what we need to live.
They run off billboard signs and industry signs,
pressing pretty little pills
to eliminate this beautiful life's thrills.

To look at the sky,
to open your eyes.
To be let in on those subtle, honest surprises.
To look back to something,
and say that you tried.
At least you can say you have the will to survive.
Cuts needles, stitches, and lies.
Learn to stitch yourself together,
and remember the wise.
Those shredded ropes,
those severed ties,
Shouldn't be all that reminds you
you're alive.*

The daily rise and fall of life
is a constant reminder of the pain and strife we encounter
in the race against time.
Both sides equally beautiful dark and light,
enjoy both for they are all we have.
Right?

Dancing on glass,
Time please don't pass,
I don't wanna break through.

I'm looking forward to the past,
Cause it never did last,
And I'm sitting here missing you.

Time goes by,
Faster than the planes in the sky,
And I wonder why
I always have to say goodbye.

Is it not my time?
Am I not the right one?
Please tell me I'm right
Cause I'm not having fun.

Help me to escape
It's not the right place
Please stay by my side
Cause you can't be erased.

When you see through stained glass eyes
With a mind that's full of shining light
The world just seems so vivid, bright, and oh so full of color.
But could you ever tell the girl,
With stained glass eyes that glint like pearls,
Of black and gray, the dull real world
When she has not succumbed to more?

Behind the eyes,
That tell such lies.
Does she despise,
The life she hides?

When she does think.
Of the life that she keeps,
The claws they sink,
Into her skin deep.

She severs ties.
She's lost,
She's cried.
Does she abide,
Behind the eyes?

It seems like all of this is just a system.
If we're the waste then what the gold?
If we all rose up we could **** them.
But if we resort to hypocrisy,
We'll lose all we've got left to hold.

Rain drops into puddles,
water rippling as I see.
I've always thought about
tomorrow, now I've no
idea where I'll be.
When the sun rolls into
morning, I'll have things
I have to leave. I shove
A cork into the bottle.
Stop the rivers,
stop the scene.

Fly you random butterfly,
I couldn't do it,
So touch the sky.
On the paper,
Sketched and drawn.
You shine with hope,
Just like the dawn.

Me and my scribes hands
Me and my eyes
Writing out truths
While spitting out lies
I cannot explain it
I might as well try
I feel like I'm falling
I know I could fly
I cannot contain
The things in my brain
I keep analyzing
Yet I don't know why
I act this way
When roads they change
I just keep on tripping
And stumbling by
Do the birds hear me as I can hear them?
Do the roots feel me and call me a friend?
Do the clouds roll?
And break wet and cold?
And wash away all of the dirt
Shrouding sense?
Does the sky cry when
Stars fall from the night?
Are things truly made
Of darkness and light?
We have to fall
To feel the call
From deep in our souls
Which brings us to life.

Don't tell me,
here I go again.
The girl who
keeps her secrets
in her skin.
Then cuts it up
to bleed, therein
I will not tell a soul.

But then I need
to hear the words.
That wanting this
is not absurd,
and not that this
cannot be cured.
I know I can't
escape from this.

However, wanting this
for so **** long,
yet nothing felt.
No right or wrong.
A pinch of guilt,
the blade's sharp song.
Has made me feel obscure again.