I just want to sleep.
A long nap through the pain.
I just want it to stop.
The tears and the anger,
They're overwhelming.
I can't do it.
I need to sleep.

I'm tired.
Tired of the pain.
Pain I just can't control.
Control is slipping from my grasp.
Heading for air, for love.
Love abandoning me.

I don't just mean smoking **** or doing any other drug. I mean, doing
things for yourself and making yourself happy. Allowing yourself to be spontaneous. Go outside and play in the rain, go on drives and play the music loud, and sing the songs even louder. Love with all your heart and don't allow fear to hold you back from the things you want in life. Shut out that voice in the back of your mind that says, “you aren't capable” or “you're not good enough.” Focus on what gets you high. For guys, is it winning the big game? and for girls, is it looking in the mirror and having the confidence to smile without a doubt in mind? My belief or concept begins with the way you look at life. It's built on perspective.

For me, getting high is doing things that I love to do. I get “high” off cosmetology. I get high when I flip the cape off of my client and turn them to face to face with my work, and they smile. I made them feel beautiful, and in-turn made myself feel proud of my work and confident in what I love to do.

For me, I get high off the examples I was provided as a child. Not the examples of what I was supposed to be like, but the ones I wasn't. I have used my birth moms poor life example as my inspiration of what not to be, and have made steps and strides my entire life to be the opposite of what she had shown me was acceptable, because of her I have become who I am today.

Everyone deserves to have those moments of allowiong yourself to be able to stick your hand out the window letting it flow up and down naturaly with the wind, and allowing yourself to forget the pain and disappointment of whatever you are dealing with at the moment in life. Forget what you wanted but couldnt have, and forget that the boy you like has no idea you even exist.

For me, I believe everyone should watch the sunset at least once in their life, and then watch is rise.

I loved you before the alcohol,
Hourglass to the soul,
hour pass,
days maybe...
in between the formulation of golden nuggets in the mountains silver sands.
You held my hand and through velvet touch,
Electricity meander through my arms,
before the storm calm,
the start of a heart attack -
then the pack of house of cards collapsed.
In a deserts smile,
you flatlined through our favourite past times.
The pastures rich with buttercups
and dandelions like the last time.
When we walked over the train tracks harvest.
Last summer and last spring.
Somethings are everlasting,
and some pass like storm clouds without one droplet of rain,
in casting,
our love grew like tulips,
Yellow, red and blue,
bruises,
but soon come the rain,
our muses loses,
&
rendered useles;
I went away and
It's too soon to explain myself,
For that.
Back,
with cap in hand.
Lost in hearts melted by false starts,
and feathered cap,
Falsetto moods
sharp stilettos,
slap back.
I couldn't let go when the sun came through,
and a calming parting of the clouds where the rain came blue.
I thought I could live without you,
but I bottled it,
again.
Now I've nothing left to give,
but my gift to you.
sinking, sleeping in the land dunes
trying to understand you.

What if I told you I was dead inside?
That when I fall asleep, I feel the need to hide.
Hide from all the shadows that lurk around my bed.
Shield myself from voices swirling in my head.

What if I told you my life was stolen?
Had only I been miscarried while her belly was swollen.
I was never child. I had never had the chance.
But I keep telling myself, "All you can do is dance."

What if I told you I used to stay locked inside a room?
To avoid what's called a family as their presence would loom.
To hide in the bathroom after dinner almost every night.
Because every meal, offered a fight.

What if I told you the bathroom floor is my home?
The only safe place. Better off alone.
Hot water and porcelain friends.
It's the only place my pain ends.

What if I told you of blood soaked wings?
You wouldn't understand any of these things.
Maybe I'm crazy. I guess it's okay.
I never had hope you could stay.

I didn't wake up one morning
     make a conscious choice
             to be a *****....
First -
I gave my heart
      It was used to clean excrement from your rear....
I ventured so far as to trust
     Your knives are still in my back....
I was kind
     you interpreted weakness....
I cared
      totally unappreciated
I empathized
      your need became insatiable....
After 20 years I finally said
    **** it....
Naturally,
       I'm the *****....
No my dear
        I simply act like you!

All of you.
Where do you get off
making a name for yourself
out of the mockery
in fallen heroes’ hearts?
What’s in a name;
that which we call
"a genius"
by another label
would be found on the front page
of the obituaries.

And now,
what?
Where do you go from
the top,
looking down on those you
trampled on the way
with some false sense of humility?
How we perceive you now
is like that of a crime lord;
envious,
never aspirational.

Might as well
call it a day
and take note of the
fallacy
that is fame and fortune.