Authenticity.
**** this.
This is who I am.
The words I write,
the speech I say;
this is me.

Walk this journey with me,
or not,
I don’t care.
This is real.
The “troubled artist”,
the “dark poet”,
the “pitiful addict”,
I’m all of it and
none of it.

Man up.
Stop letting fear take hold.
This voice you hear in your head is your own.
Listen to it, there’s wisdom there.
I’m sick of it, that’s right, I’m ******* sick of it.
Grow up, take a stand and be a man.

I talk to myself and these are the words inside my head.
Expression.
Thank God for it.
I scream and these words are inadequate.
Silence is golden.
So sick of clichés. I want something new.
Ok, I’ll be quiet now. I know it’ll be alright.
It’s ok. It’ll be alright.

It’s so cold out there.
As I walk the streets I can feel the
Disconnection.
I take a **** and a sip of the drink
Warmth.

Trying to numb the slow dying hands of time.
The search for wonder,
the surprise of awe.
Death.
Don’t worry,
it’s coming for us all.

Look over your shoulder;
look under your bed.
Don’t leave your light on,
it’ll be peace.

Who am I?
What does it mean to be me?
Shackled in this cage of a body,
I’m trying so hard to break free.

Cross my heart and I hope to die,
I say a prayer as I look to the sky.
It's time again and I don’t wanna get high,
but my will, it flickers and falters,
I just wanna escape, find sleep for a little while.

In a self-pity of distress,
I’ve created another mess;
trashing my mind, sometimes I couldn't care less.
I can feel the vultures tearing at my heart;
well, can’t ask them to leave now,
it was me who gave them their start.

****** to the bone.
Rapid with rage like a dog on a leash.
Forget the existence of time
and the nature of reality.

Time to get off of this train,
these thoughts spill out,
press play and hit the brain drain.

I’m not sorry,
it’s not about apologising.
One day at a time.
Is that only a cliche?
Is change only transitory?
Let’s find out.

They lied to me.
They tried to tell me
what to care about,
what my interests should be.
They tried to tell me
who I am.

They lied to me.
They tried to tell me what to dream;
then helped to tear those dreams down.
They told me they would be there for me;
yet they were as baseless as their words.
The natural company of misery;
a friend to the friendless.

They lied to me.
They wanted me to believe
that this is what it means to be a man.
Now I know and I can’t look back.
I gave it all a chance,
but it’s time to clear out my brain.
What was once there has now gone.

As I sit on bended knees and pray,
I know there must be a better way.
I come before You with blinded eyes;
seeking Your presence.
I ask that You may lead so I can follow,
that You may teach so I can serve.

They lied to me,
but I know You won’t.
For this is not faith,
nor is it confidence,
it is assurance
etched deeply in my heart.

Here it comes,
the shotgun of emotion.
Desolate;
I stare off into the distance over
this wishing well of despair.
If I cut myself
would I even bleed?

A beacon of darkness
swallowing me whole.
I claw at my face
as I silently scream.
Is there a way out of this contraption?

I write what I feel,
I'm not feeling much.
Somethings stuck.
It hurts to not even feel hurt.
These eyes die to cry,
yet nothing seeps out of the void.

No one can save you except for yourself.
That's the joke. Get it?
It was you all along,
you only ever needed to listen to yourself.

These words speak for the man,
they’re the voice of his soul.
A tarnishing of past reputations,
these words hang from me,
like lights from a Christmas tree.

I can feel it,
it’s so cold out there,
the disconnection echoes in the distance.
My hand trembles,
my knees are weak.
I find salvation through expression.

That’s all I ever wanted.
Acceptance.
It comes from the self,
yet it still eludes me.
Maybe I'll find it,
maybe I won't,
maybe it never went anywhere.

These tears are familiar to me,
during the span of the sleepless nights,
they make their presence known.

I'm scared.
I pull the covers over me and
there's only darkness.
I chant His name and
pray for this place to become holy.

I'm tormented.
A tired soul.
A wounded spirit.
I've only tried my best.
Whatever that was.

I continue reciting the Name.
Like a child without a parent,
I seek direction.
Dictation
I take down the words
I hear in my head.

A weird structure.
A confused guy.
I need to work harder.
I need to work faster.

I know not what I say,
I know now what I mean.
Wordplay
It's fun and takes me out
of my own self-awareness.

Honesty
that's all that ever mattered.
I write to myself.
Use your words wisely.
Let them speak.
Let them express for you.
Let them flow and
flow with them.
Go with the dream,
go with it.