My skin is itching hoping to be put out of its misery.
The blades draw me in.
I begin.
I don't want to.
They whisper things, so you have to.
Times get harder and the memories get stronger.
The ache, claw, and gnaw at the only thing that's keeping you strong.
All the blood, pills, and hard nights, are not just another messed up generation.
This is real.
It's happening.
I'm one of them.
I will listen.
I may not fully understand.
So next time they tell you to stand down or give up.
Don't.
Struggle with me.
Hand and hand.
Side by side.

























ouvir musicas gospel

The clocks keep ticking in my mind.
Keeping me asking questions,
to which answers I may never find.
In my room, with countless
"if's and why's".
While weighing my options
my opinion weighs in,
then my conscience,
then my mind once again.
Then they start.
The flashes on old memories past.
Hurt and constant suffrage, remains in the past?
No, I will not choose to let it go,
or pretend it wasn't there.
The past is all you are, all you were, and all you CAN be
and if we forget, we are no one.
All the people, places and things, evem if just for
a spare second of your time impact you for a lifetime.
So instead of asking why, ask what about the rest of my
Lifeline, that I won't be able to impact.