Like leaves, tears drop and float effortlessly down scarred cheeks.
To the world, they remain anonymous and silent but to me, they are the world.
Becoming glass shards in broken eyes, and elvin daggers in a limp heart.
A body spinning counterclockwise, going no where but sicker as the days flash by.
I am a number, a false statistic that hasn't registered yet.
I am made up and imaginary, just like hands are to time, just like green is to money.
I grow tired of this worlds mentality more and more with each shallow breath.
I remain on the outskirts of everything as I stay unconformed and partially used.
There is an ever present dust seeping into my wounds and it's eating away all I am, all I stand for and my bones.
They have turned to dust, my soul has given way to rust.

The aching turns to
   Throbbing
And it's breaking my ribs again.

The faux colours after the rain
    Fade
Dimming to black once more.

It's a hamster wheel I'm stuck in
     Rotating
Dragging me up and down,
    Rupturing semi-calloused skin.

Bashing my head against bars
     Locked
In this place, a metaphorical mental jail.

Stuttering words that shatter my teeth
   Nonsense
This sadness isn't real,
   Yet It's here.
And I can feel it. It's drowning me.
I can't breathe. But it isn't real.
So I find solace in it like binding myself to a religion that doesn't leave a bubbling sensation on my tongue.

This word is dark and everything is tasteless.
    I can't remember what sunshine tastes like
On the back of my eyes.

Besides, I've lost all feeling in my brain
And my nose bleeds again
    But I bashed my face against a wall
So maybe it's my numbness dripping on the floor.

There is an overwhelming sadness washing over me,

I don't know how to surface,
            Or rid myself of this darkness.

A constant ebb and flow of numbness,
              Rolling, up and down my paralysed body.

I'm so sorry, I have wandered here again.

               Drag me out,
                                      Teach me how to breathe.

It's strange the way that freedom is an essential yet silent component of the human body. It lies dormant between the right lung and the edge of the diaphragm, it tickles your side every now and then, starting a chain reaction of a deep breath then a spontaneous motion. Eventually you wind up somewhere completely alien to you and, if you're like me, you take no notice of what's around as you slowly plod home. It's a dull life, but oh, isn't it safe.

Have you ever spoken to the moon?
I wonder how many secrets its craters hold.
I wonder if the secrets are what give it it's beauty.
I ask you, does your soul wander when you look up to the night sky,
Then get lost between the moon rocks?
Do you see yourself reflecting back?
Or the man on the moon watching, observing and protecting you?
Is it a refreshing feeling knowing you are insignificant
Against a giant porcelain beauty?
Does the coolness of the moons beams fill you,
And give you new hope in a home long destroyed?
Can you find peace within the moon?
Can you find peace within me?
Close your eyes, search deeper in your veins.
You'll find beauty, peace and happiness soon enough.

Would you like to be my bride?
Splendid, i'll order the corpse tomorrow.
Perhaps there shall be bats, and black butterflies.
Perhaps a heart will wither and die,
but oh, what a joyous day it will be.
And oh, all the sad faces we will see.
I beg you to meet the end,
I beg you to sell me the moon.
Reach into your heart and rip out the strings of wolf.
There will be nothing but dust left,
you won't be remembered not even if you mechanically pulse forever.