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.

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.

Ill and fleeting imperfections
Lily petaled plant dissections
Action wrought of flawed intention,
Trying to work this broken invention.
Be close to me and I'll give,
You can break me and I'll live,
You can breathe and give me more
Than a reason to be here.
As of now my heart beast solely alone,
One arm strokes my own,
And my skin shivers because
It longs to touch something real.
And feel a life sated in more
Than the endless apathy
It kindly reaches out to lay the seeds.
It needs,
But it does not know how to not flee
From the answer.
Not to flinch into the cancer.
I hope there's a lantern
To guide us to the brightness,
We will see the whiteness
Of the moon,
Maybe someday we'll finally be free.
If that happens
Will you meet me?
Apres moi le deluge
As long as I will just have you.

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.

This monotony is killing me,
don't stumble self,
with aching feet.
You'll live this Hell
and then be free
you too must help
to keep the peace.
I close my eyes
and breathe in deep,
to dissipate the energies
that lurk inside the dark to seethe,
I know they're living here with me.
It's funny how to me they're beasts,
yet I'm the one with claws and teeth,
a flaming sword for cutting free
the things that aren't meant to be.

It seems I'm less than I thought,
A red line again,
It seems I've already forgot.
That we're all human,
Does that make me not?
A line under my school khakis,
My razors seem to be back at use.
Put in closets to dust,
In Drawers without light,
But I'll know they're there,
It's like they whisper at night.

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?

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

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.

Some mothers don't have time to make dinner
Some of them just can't buy rice
Some kids eat from cans warmed on gas stoves
Some kids don't have things that are nice
To some, these thoughts aren't provoking
Always someone will live this way, right?
That isn't reason enough for ignoring
What's living right here in front of your eyes.

Can you feel the holes in me?
Wide as any of the seven seas
Filled with all my inner beasts
I want, but don't, to let them free.

Can you feel me? Can you see?
I'm half of what I used to be
I spend my time just wallowing
Self pity, depression swallowing
Down this dark hole, following
Just to feel my insides hollowing.

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?

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...

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?

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

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 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 have these holes
Within myself
That fill with sand
Dust on the shelf
The memories
The dying seeds
For what has happened
What that will bring
It has to shape now
Who I will be
What burns to ashes
What sets me free
What collects pale dust
On shelves to be
When today becomes a memory.

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...

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.

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.

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...

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.

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.

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 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.

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.

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...

I need to remember my Gods are by my side,
I'll be a lonely bite of truth in this belly full of lies.
For this game is never won,
All our bets are not forsaken.
The endless odds will one day rise,
And we'll leave the system shaken.
Peace
Is never permanent,
Not all of us are cool with it.
We'll write our dying testaments
In suicides and percocets.
With flaming wings we say our vows
And down into the sea we drown.
They're testing us,
We **** around,
We lose ourselves with every round.
They make us sit and take their tone.
They make us thing that we're alone.
If not, we'll break their ******* bones,
They dont want our freedom because they know.
We'll show them we wont ever be owned.

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...

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.

I walk by in threes
With these scars on my knees
To tie my eyes to the trees
Marking maps in my dreams

I have felt
panic
in places of peace.
I can't always
know
when people see me.
For who I
am
is not what I seem.
And who I will
be
is all but a dream.
I want to know
you
all the rips in the seam.
I want to
sate
all the places you seethe.
If you'll let me
in
baby life will be cream.
We will rise to the
top
Just believe me you'll see.

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.

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?...

Time will curve and convalesce into a being I know less than tears that drop and fall along the thorns of spring's new roses.
We came up from the land of sun, the diamonds in the withered rough and dying things that bluff the green grass blanketing their front lawns.
Time has lied and tied me down now I'm a sad old ****** up clown who uses jokes to hop around the reasons I'm unhappy.
And people do not understand, I dont mean all the jabs I land and how I'm trying to turn this ****** hand to something golden. And I'm a ****** up person on in the long road to enlightenment. And I'm a child deep inside but all I do is fight with it.

Parodies of ourselves
We are
Walking perfection
Aren't we?
We are
These careful little
Beings
We are
Propped up
On strings
We do all
The right things
And we
Dance like
We're supposed to

But
What if I dont want to?

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.

My mechanical pencil lead keeps breaking, and somehow it feels like a metaphor for my life

I am unsynchronized synchronicity
The half pages in journals left blank
That's me
The image of composure while crashing down inside
The graceful dance of panic through the web I'm trapped inside
I've felt another shift lately, in the ways that I perceive
The image of the me I know is always incomplete
There's always new ways to see they say
New ways to turn our feet
We can never fully fill the holes this way
But we can still feel more complete

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

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

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.

I am made of fractal dust
My ashen skin will turn to rust
My insides surely will combust
We all end up in pieces
Arrange them into different shapes
To forms we shall appreciate
We are not built to really hate
But we do have the talents
Let me cry my diamond tears
As I chase away my fears
And let me analyze my years
To find out who I am now
Or where to go from now on
Which path to shine my light upon
The courage now to face the dawn
I swear I'll get there someday

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.

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."

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...

I am not an estimation,
I live off of variation.
Don't put me in your connotations.
Leave me off your tongue.

I coat things in lamination,
Keep them though I cannot save them.
I eat things past expiration,
Though they make me sick.

I have blurred periphery,
The world, at once too much to see.
The Earth needs a mastectomy
To **** away the cancer.

We think we'll make a legacy,
When all we do is die and breathe.
They want nature to take a knee,
Things may get explosive.

We are the children of the ******,
The soldiers shipped away to wars,
Conglomeration CEOs,
We loathe the place from which we're born.

Laying out, fermented, bruised.
We curse the tree which let us loose.
The rotten fruits which once were new,
Have stained the kitchen table.