Paint splatter on my walls
There is nothing but the drips that fall
My mind races to see its colors
but there is nothing but the wet coatings
No trivial guess
or awesome gloating
can be found from my walls
only desperate wondering
and empty spots
needing to be filled
once its done
all I can do is
hope one day
that I can see the colors

kissing boys with long hair
at parties that smelt like bad decisions,
and surviving on liquor so strong
that I would forget my own name,
simple to try and remove that awful taste
you left in my mouth.

They died thinking they could save me
Fighting in a pointless meddling war
To bad they died for nothing.

I can't respect the decision
To let others die
So you can force your opinion on someone else.

I have a gun,
I keep it under my bed
and just for fun
I decided not to tell anyone

But it weighs heavy

Now when people
get under my skin I don’t begin
to unwind and
let my patience wear thin

I just think of my gun under my bed.
I think of a hole going straight through my head.

My Heads just a borrowed mess,
I’m just a high liar, dire trier
trying too much again.  
You see friends
in strangers but behaviours
vary, yes its very scary times indeed.

I took my gun
out for a walk or maybe he
took me for one
when the sky showed sun.

And it weighs heavy

juxtaposition
unrelated
extreme
north and south
black and white
the relationship seems binary
but the color doesn't stay inside the lines
it bleeds
all over the room
it gets on your shoes
soaks into the carpet
it fills the air
you breathe it in
it seeps into your veins
your heart glows softly at first
then like sunbeams, light bursts from your chest
and you understand the dissonance
and you feel

When I hold her hand time stops.