She sits there alone

at all the local bars

Skin so young

but there's stories in her scars

stitches on the sleeve

where her heart was once worn

so calm in her face

but her minds a raging storm.

Yeah, shes happy alone

but she misses his touch

and a closeness thats shes now so

terrified of.

She smiles and she laughs

and she tells not a soul

of the nightmares and cold sweats

and of the way that her heart broke.

She silently sits

and shot after shot

lets go for the night

what while sober she cannot.

She sings sweet love songs

in tragic tones of Macbeth.

Cursing every man

in the room

underneath her breath.

My mind is a beast.
Snarling and bearing its teeth.
A humming bird adrift through atmosphere,
flower to flower and back again.
A bee ready to sting to protect the hive,
yet brought down with the smallest drop of water.
My ears light up at the sound of earth,
and rejoice.
Yet cry at any tone resembling your voice.
My mouth is a beautifully sculpted castle.
My full lips conceal the cowardly queen behind tea stained teeth.
My mouth is a coward.
My fingers are my army wielding sharp ink filled swords.
Directing letters into spiral bound battle fields
stained with shed tears.
Each word lain out like blood spattered soldiers where the enemy can find them if the notion ever strikes hot.

Creative expressions, examine artistic talents.
Plan it out, count ounces, keep countering the balance.

Distant planets i feel more at place with,
disgraced by the disgusting face human-race-lift.
I'm currently placed here, a pessimistic cynic thinkin
sink or swim, who cares? i'm already ****** dippin in it.

Deep thoughts dropping, with brainstorm droughts often,
countermanding clever cogitation conjured in common;

I'm om nom nom-ing, busting every ****** ******,
endowed well where it counts never gave a ***** a problem.

Now drop that on an album, lay down a simple beat.
Sample the same **** over and over on repeat.
Call it a hype track, make some mixes, overlap.
Over a short duration you can claim to be savior of rap.
It's just that easy. Innovative minds depleting,
stillborn America with its heart still beating.

Patiently waiting..
I'm about to go crazy..
Basically, I better blow up or this hate is gonna take me.

18, small village, small life. So far,
I feel like i am floating,
                                                     never doing anything of substance with my life.

Life is confusing, never felt like i had one.
A wallflower watching peers find the bottom of ***** bottles with loud music.
In love with the idea of being in love but never understood the concept.

Boring and tame, not any more.
I want to write, be creative, find a voice inside my head. Find me.

Do cliché things like move to a big city where I'm dust on a piece of the puzzle.
Be of substance, find the one, understand that love thing.