it's hard to remember i'm alive

and that the sky is endless

and this life is relentless

and that not everyone i love will love me back

and i'm made of the very breath of the stars

that's true

but the stars are already dead

and you said i was too

and now i believe you

(cjw)

I stare at the kettle, I've forgotten to flip the switch on
A teabag lies in the bottom of a cup
I look at the clock and wonder where the time has gone.
I'm in the kitchen, there's something wrong.
I see the sink, the fridge, the oven too
Stop, please, let me think.
I turn back to the cup and it hits me,
There should be two.

Forgive my thoughtless words
Forgive my careless heart
Forgive my open nature
And the pain it doth impart

I beseech your inner kindness
I beseech your loving soul
I beseech you to have mercy
For the lies I never told

If I'd shown you all my love
If I'd truly let you see
If I'd made sure you had known
You're the greatest part of me

Perhaps my nothing words
Would mean nothing more to you
Than the frothy fluff they're meant to be
They're not the evil that I do

i think i will survive if i can wait a little more
i'll wait until
the last of you is walking
out the
door
the hours have been good to me
the miles
make it
clear
that life can still be beautiful
without you being
                           here
it's when i press my lips to yours
that everything
returns
and opens up a world with an intensity that
burns
enough with the explosives
i don't want them
anymore
the back of you in front of me, i'll run to close the door

Longing for the touch of the wind and the leaves, hearing all the woes of the birds and the trees. The wind speaks wisdom...all across the lands,Those who'v never heard it...would not ever understand.

Id like to take your hand, show you that the grass is just as green in other lands. Flowers only grow if sunlight radiates in air, Sunlight only radiates if clouds will let him by. The wind will intervene and the let the rays flow through the sky.

Time is a cool liquid that flows and resonates through my being
And as I sit here slaving away day by day on man made devices based on prehistoric theories, I feel the angels of death ripping my time out from underneath my feet.
I maybe young but I continue to fret about the bullets that ring in my head and the psychotics that numb my brain into pliable putty.
They try to mold me to fit the social standard and I continue to fight back with the will of a bull and the guilt of a sinner.
I can not continue to castrate my inner self even though it is that of the flames of hell which will never accept me.
I can not continue to wish for the pure white of the wings angels and the dazzling halos of the pure, neither, because I am stuck in my impending cycle of depression and gloom.
Miss Mary Jane only makes me loopy and ***** me up immensely while the nicotine never sedates the destructive curiosity.
I am a slave to my mind and to the pain that bleeds from the bruises and cuts.
I am a slave to the human heart which controls every reenactment of the mistakes my mother bled to hide me from
And for this I cry and plead the words
"I'm sorry!"
But this is never enough.
I will never be enough.
For I am a hopeless little teenage freak that will never learn.
And for this I am truly sorry.