You'll find me at my worst when I haven't heard your voice
in what feels like weeks and weeks.
I try to keep quiet and try to keep this deep.
But, over time my misery becomes taxing on my sleep.

The faulty thoughts come first.
Am I blessed or am I cursed?
I'm still taking steps back
to remember how to act.
It's the only choice I have
to make everything exact.

Not a penny to my name;
no evidence to back my claim
that I've been doing what I can,
even though I hardly have.

I showed patience the door
when it was begging me to stay.
Instead of being stationary,
I chose to run away.

It's not all that difficult
to see what I've been doing wrong.
But, I've made friends in Struggle City
and they always cheer me on.

I swear that I'll grow
from the tricks that you show me
when I'm down on my luck
like nobody knows me.

I've lost space in the fold
from the promise you told me
wouldn't quite ever last
if you promised to know me.

Get comfortable.
Get back to what you think you know.

Become able.
Become the keen and valuable.

Be gracious, giving, heartfelt and kind.
Give love, give thanks, give peace of mind.

I wake up disappointed
when I make mistakes in dreams;
when I set fire to ambition
and dam up crucial streams.

I fall asleep excited
to repair my every fault;
to turn a whole new leaf
and be everything I'm not.

I disengage from beauty
every time I fall asleep.
I usually will surface,
but this time I'm in too deep.

Pull me up and save me.
Please don't let this be.
I'm living farther underwater
with every passing week.

Her mouth: the trap door.
It pulls you in and screams for more
and now she's flirting with disaster,
playing with fire and burning faster.

Her latch is weak and opens easy.
You'll always lose when she gets greedy.
Also stemmed from her abyss:
the self -respect of a dying fish.

Oh, it comes and goes, but here it comes.
We better latch the door and ******* run.

A gloomy thought has crossed my mind:
to write a note of suicide.
When in times this hard, this rough and gritty
I do not seek your ruined pity.
A personal intimacy is what I desire-
to lift my spirit and start a fire.
With this script, I believe I'd see
the very people that believe in me.
It is with your faith that I move on.
It is with this faith that I grow strong.
My broken heart could fill an envelope
and pressed between I'd be forced to cope.
When I have reached a humbled level.
I hope the sad will weep and revel.
It is this level that I'd like to acquire;
to provide light for the weak as I inspire.

When I look into a mirror in my imaginary world,
I see my face in the form of plastic, melting as it's skewed.
The alphabet is distant and my jaw shudders at the thought of rooms
filled with gold and colors as the fungus in me is consumed.
With this puddle feeling and trees reflected in my wake,
I know I should be sleeping, but my mind is wide awake.
Anything that flashes pulls the wall's breath to sights I can't mistake.
I'm cold and covered in my skin as ideas spill out thin
and the letters slowly gather and my mouth is caving in.
Train-wrecked are my teeth with whatever this might be.
They're pressing inward on my mind as I lose my self in sound.
My teeth are slowly bending, wrecking everything around.

I think I've been bugged, but not the whole world is watching.
This is a sight for private eyes with sad, cryptic mumbling.
I've got more tabs than a notebook,
but surely she won't look
because there is nothing to find.
She tells me to worry,
I tell her to hurry
and clean up the mess that's not mine.
All of the doctors will diagnose this,
it's only a matter of timing.
A.P.S. in your chest.
The gears of your heart have been grinding.

I've got slivers in my thumbs
and an infection in my gums.
I'm throwing out my stops
and setting fire to my crops.

I want to start this venture with a newly cleaned slate.
I've built bridges in my mind to new places I don't hate.
I've done things I've been ashamed of and I've done things I can't believe,
but the past is not my future and my faults will take their leave.

You can trust me now.
My dishonesty, I cede.
I've loosened up these chains
and made it possible to see.
So who else will to step out
to take a new life on with me?

Pluck me from this well-rooted piece of life.
The consistency is right and I bloom all throughout the night.
Show me now where we all go
when we whimper and decompose.
Wipe your feet as steady as your fortune goes.
Where they have been, only you know.
In time you will understand the meaning of this.
I hope that by then you'll have given a ****.

Grief giver, soul killer.
I could ruin lives
This isn't self flattery,
It's my possessive pride.
Yet, still I mumble apologies,
it seems they're never old.
But, the freshness of our purity
has since been turned to mold.
How many times can I say I'm sorry,
before you'll even know?
I hope that one day you can trust in me
and realize I have grown.
Well, now you're in a rut,
but you should know this.
I know you'll tough it out
and you know I'll notice,
because I can always tell you at your fullest.
I know a smile can keep you afloat.
It makes the pressure lessen around your throat.
Breathe in that air, here comes the sun.
Good days are coming, your course has not run.

It's a blessing that I'm poor,
because I'd probably be dead.
The liquids I've consumed, what I've put into my head.
I know it's a ******* weakness what I'd let myself do.
Yet, I'm still thinking clearly and I'm pretending that's the truth.
I've never been so happy, though life isn't quite ideal.
But, the things that I'm oppressing I've decided aren't real.
Still, I smile because I'm happy and I believe in what I feel.
Try to find yourself like I have and you'll be better off.
Show your teeth as I have and you'll be happy as a god.
Just keep your chin up like I do and you appreciate your life.
If you continue to be mindless, you'll never really be alive.

A man in a tree
just showed me his dream
of a growth ripping out of his head.
But, his mind is a maze,
forever entrancing,
my eyes 'til the end of my days.

These eyes are tired.
This stomach is weak.
iIve been vaguely thinking of why this could be.
But, right now it isn't vague; it's a little bit more
and in the back of my head is a thought.
Perhaps it's this thinking and the things i'm repeating
or maybe it's a little bit more.

I'm complete with sobriety and self-proclaimed notoriety
of living a life without sleep.
Now the wear, the tear, the feeling of nothing
and this fatigue are starting to creep.
My own deprivation just might be the answer,
but maybe its a little bit more.

It keeps adding up, just like I had thought
and it will only keep growing, I'm sure.
There's a little bit more, a little bit more.
There's a little bit more, of that I am sure.

My words, they float up-
like smoke in the air
stretching so thin,
you wouldn't guess that they were there.
They rise to the clouds.
They fade in the sun
and out of my mouth
they were softly sung:

"Please, could you please, bring comfort back to me?
The Giving Tree refuses to give.  
I promise I won't take any more than I need,
if you'll please just free my comfort and spill it over me."

My long string of letters still holds no response.
i fear they've been lost over time.
But, i croon for love and I scream out of hate.
So, after all that, I feel fine.

"Oh, nothing can hurt me, not even your lies.
No, you can't **** my spirit, because this one is mine.
My words may turn brittle, but they'll tickle your spine.
Oh, nothing can hurt me.  I've buried this time alive."

Apprehensive means fearful,
but what's the big fear, though?
This time it can't be the unknown.
Because, wherever the trust went,
it took something with it.
It's that "something" I'm trying to find.
I feel like I've been mind-****** by only myself.
My dimensions of pride have been standing on stilts.
Out of 10 bright lights,
10 of them flash red.
The notion of progress is trite
and straight ******* dead.
As of late I am not a body,
just thoughts that keep me up at night.
So, either I've become invisible,
or I've gone ******* blind.

Better,
better,
better than ever.
Or at least things are better than I last remember
and last I checked, that's a fair enough reason
to dive right in and start believing.

Worse,
worse.
I swear it's a curse.
I know disappointment, but this is a first
and last I checked, that's a fair enough reason
to pick off this scab and promise it's healing.

If you could buy a life,
what kind of things would you like?
How well would you sleep at night,
when things settle down and feel right?
If I could buy a life and show it what I've already seen,
I believe it would be frightened
and I believe it would believe in me.
If you could buy a life,
what kind of things would you like?

This is funny, but not funny.
You can take that how you want.
But, to me it's been misleading and it's time that it must stop.
I've not been done wrong by anyone else;
this mind stuck in atrophy was produce by myself.
How many demons run this show?
They're screaming all the time.
I think my body is treading water
and I'm waist-deep in this grime.
It's time to save face and vow for self-improvement.
It will be a ******* revolution- there is bravery in my movements.

Maybe some doubt is exactly what I need;
the staleness may be temporary,
the hollow self-perceived.

I know being humble is exactly what I need;
forgetting who I have been
and seeing who I can be.

Maybe this monocracy is really what I need;
a self-governed dictatorship
that disqualifies my needs.

I hope feeling insecure is exactly what I need;
a push from behind will only make
a non-believer be believed.

But, maybe decision describes my every need;
without the aid of a constant bicker
and without putting off some heat.

I feel that this disclosure
of the real life I should lead,
may bring back the epic epicenters of things I can't believe.

But, maybe it's this doubt
that fringes the end of human being.

Or maybe its the chattering
of hate I've built while teething.

Or maybe its the "no one"
that stands beneath my feet.

Or maybe its the "no one"
that hovers over me.

This is doubt pure and true-
and I know it wants a piece of you.

I've counted up to 30.
Can you figure that one out?
A bearded horse ate a feathered tiger
before he finished his fire-grilled trout.
The horse then broke his plate in anger
and the monkeys called out, 'Danger! Danger!'
The beast then laid down for a nap,
but he never woke again.
Because, the owls fed the tiger poisoned radishes
when they found out about the horse's plan.
The community was devastated;
left in awe and disarray.
The event was cemented in history
on that cold and rainy day.

I can't identify with things that don't get better
and I've been taking down walls for months now.
It's the way I was raised that I'm rediscovering
and I hope that much makes you proud.
Just know when, I, your son want to stand in one place,
I'll still be trying my best to stand out.

If you are on your way,
what can I really say?
If it weren't already too late,
I'd put perspective in its place.

I'm out to prove you're no better than me.
I should pull you off your high horse
by way of my own just course.
Because, it's all in how we look at things
and how we handle happenings.
You know, your head is in your ***
and your *** is in the clouds.
which means your nose is in the air
and you'd better bring that ****** down.
Your pride will leave your body
faster than you ever could believe.
This is stellar ******* parallax
and don't forget hypocrisy.

I'm in the buff,
ankle-deep
in guts and stuff.
I'm feeling pretty
sick and gritty.
In fact I'm feeling
really ******.
My nose is clogged,
my chest in congested,
my body is on fire
and I'm wearing my bed-head.
My feet feel wet
and I'm feeling regret.
I'd prefer to lay down
on a silverware set.
That would be better
than feeling this weather
that hangs all around me
as if it were December.

You've planted a ***** seed in me.
It has reduced my heart's capacity
and the way I've found these words
has become a blur.

These spastic spasm fits of venting
are a waste of human space.
So come on, baby- take a listen.
Fill your head with noise pollution
to float on your merry way.

I'm adjusting to a new found wisdom:
a way to **** this frequent nuisance.
By the way, didn't anyone tell you?
We're running out of time.

This is a constant double-standard battle.
and don't you love the way I dabble?
This is a free-for-all that I'm claiming.
Now it's mine.

i've got weekend friends
all throughout the week.
each doing their part in numbing me.
but, the simple thought of a tragedy
can set me off like you won't believe.
and then i'm gone,
but not back home.
to a place i'm building out of fear
that i'm not going anywhere but here.
but, if i'm gone,
then so are you.
i'm a weekend friend
is that all i am?
'cause if that's true,
i'm so over you.
and if i'm gone,
then so are you.
i'm a weekend friend-
yeah, you're right, it's true.
i'm old on me and i'm over you.
i'm a weekend friend,
but so are you.
we're weekend friends,
i'll be there, won't you?

I've got a heavy head tonight.
This time it isn't pride inside.
It's filling up with anxious thoughts,
the root of which has long been lost.
I feel like I gave up my grip.
I'm struggling to steer this ship.

There's a hole where water is leaking in,
but I've been keeping it a secret.
I'll flood this slow with my own sin.
As Captain, I'll go down with it.

The jetstream-cut clouds we see-
atop twisted trees and sympathy
when the sun gets low speaks to me.

I'm taken back by the beauty
when the stars awake and start to hang down.
The clarity of its being is a distraction
to the things that we think matter.

The sand and the view
and the things that we do
for the shine of all of its glory-
is subsequent to the things that we feel
and the plans that are piecing our stories.

Fill the void of life with me and this and that and this.
Please cherish the thought of a blessed place:
the place where we exist.

There's a fifteen-minute round-trip
that could save me from this night
and, oh, my stride is glorified
from things that you can't see.
It's a subtle form of gratitude
that I'm reaping without thanks.
But, I'm grateful.
I know I'm grateful.

There's a fifteen minute round-trip
that could save me from this night.
It's glorified by cans you can't crush
and bottles at my side.
It's a blatant form of envy
that you're reaching for at lengths.
But, I don't care.
I know I don't care.

I said, "It's all in my hands.
I don't care if you like it."
You're suffering from feeling different.
You're a dying pilot in a pilot's cockpit.

"And if this is the end of
things we began, then
I'll embrace it automatic
and lets those ******* ******* have it again."

Say it.
Say that it's good.
Tell me something sure;
a promise for just anything.

Say it.
Say that it's good.
So while we roll around,
we won't feel the thought of being useless.

Say it.
Say that it's good.

I'm pulling skin through my hair
and chewing down my nails
in disgust.
"This is a collections agency in an attempt to..."
Recorded words are always chosen so perfectly;
"an attempt" is right-
and a ****-poor one at that.
"O' conglomerate!
I've got your answers right here."
I've been walking around headless
on the shiny dime of the state
and I wouldn't have it any other way.
"Everybody needs more money." I say,
"And I sure as **** need it more than you do."
Get going.
Get lost.
Get headless if you must.

The leaves, they own the streets tonight
and trees are waving their goodbyes
while cars are creeping slower than I've seen.
And the only light I see tonight
is the light shone from this city sight
and maybe just a streetlight few and far between.
I heard the skattered pitter-patter
and I deciphered Nature's hidden pattern
and I'll tell you the crude tale
the Master Tree has just told me.
"What you've just heard is no mistake,
we play these songs all night and day.
But, those who have heard more,
they run, they run and they scream."
I gathered up my thoughts of this
and stood proud like a lioness.
I open my head for more before my plea,
"Won't you tell me anymore?
my life has lately been a bore."
This is what he had to say to me.
"In this darkness that you walk,
these Trees and I, we seldom talk.
but, tonight we have a song I'd like to sing,
(he croons)
"We'd like to de-root this earth's humanity
and bruise you and curse you for ruining
this beautiful thing
that we have all come to call home,
but soon we'll be extinct,
so I ask if you'll lose this battle with me.
It's one we can not win alone."
"I don't understand," I say,
"because I can't do anything.
I'm a man,
I'm a lost one,
you see?"
Well, quickly he looked down on me,
drowning in my blasphemy,
and the tree grew 1,000 feet tall.
"You are now my enemy
and I would **** you instantly,
but I'm just a tree,
I'm a tree and that's all."
Before I could give a response,
I ran as fast as I could
and, eventually, I made it home.
I thought, "These tales are tales for garden gnomes
and fake elven heroes."
and with that I finished my wine
and went to sleep.
For, I am just a man.
Just a lost one, you see?
There's no hope from a man that's like me.

Oh, black and white bumble-bee
I heard that you came for me.
Since then, I've been running away.
Your awkward skin coloring
and dotted-line poetry
is surely a sight to amaze.
But, I've got no infantry,
so I called my cavalry.
I'm sure that you'll battle for days.
Oh, black and white bumble-bee
I heard that you came for me.
Since then, I've been running away.
Your awkward skin coloring
and dotted-line poetry
is nothing I'll see on this day.

Could you cut the ****?
Because, you sound like me;
playing on the edge of sanity.
Violets and violence
and things like defiance.
Could you just ******* trust me?
We all need some guidance.
Misdirection, perception and my misconceptions-
I might as well mention the years of deception.
Oh, the panic! The havoc!
"We think that we have it!"
Now, they've got us preaching
like screaming fanatics.
Go ***** to the wall.
I'm giving my all
and you'll only witness
my rise, not my fall.

She has a presence in this room
that hangs like death in the air;
with scripted apologies,
as if we are unaware.
she swears,
but no one really cares.
she swears.
but, why would anyone care?

Her words, they smell of ****,
like a crooked spasm of a fit
over nothing to be seen;
some imaginary being.
She swears,
but no one really cares.
She swears and she swears,
but she's just a culprit *****
of the ******.

Her words, they smell of ****.

Can I pick you up and carry you home
and let you know you're not alone?
I hope it's not too cold out,
but I can wrap you in these arms if that's the case.
I swear I won't stop, won't stop- We just won't stop.

Can I pick you up and carry you home?
It's a perfect night when the moon hangs low
and we're atop the top, so we just won't stop.

Can I pick you up and carry you home?
Tomorrow morning won't be a lonely one.
We've got sunshine and a window
and maybe that's all we need.

I approached her
to tell her that I miss her.
With my head down,
I pulled her in to kiss her.
But, then I walked away
with the heart of a coward,
so heavy with guilt
for a couple of hours.
And now, I feel fine.
Now, I feel fine.

She's cold to the touch
and if you even as much
as glance at her face
she'll send ice through your veins.

With the wrath of a queen
and the angst of a teen,
she doesn't think when she acts;
her lust holds her back.

Well, he is hot to the touch
and if you even as much
as mention the wrong name
he'll set your body aflame.

With the fight of a king
and a temper obscene,
he never thinks when he acts;
this holds everyone back.

One time I fell fast asleep
on a warm summer night.
I woke up on a salty sea bed
with a soaking water pillow,
fish swimming around my head.

I took my time to surface
with gentle strokes of grace
and I could see the sun shining
before the sun could see my face.
Toward it, I swam for ages
searching for land a far.
Then a coast cut on the horizon
like a wrist cut open and scarred.

The beach was pristine;
the sand was white.
I stood on the edge of a city
that was blooming with life.
I walked with the wind
to see where we would go
and it took me up a mountain
that was lightly painted with snow.

Since I had never looked back,
turning around was quite a surprise.
I found a city/starlight parallel
that shimmered in my eyes.

The stars were on the surface that night
As the man-made lights were up above me.
I laid and stayed and stared for years.
Never again would the sun ever phase me.

Either the lights have been shut off
or the bulbs have all burnt out.
Is it really that dark out here
or are my eyes starting to fail?

I can't see far ahead.
I can't even see close.
I can't see the point.
I'm my virus' host.
I'll consume myself
and **** everything else.
I'm a total sack of lies.
I'm a virus hotel.

Please shake me free
from the grip of everything.
Or, please let me be
and let my hope rest in peace.

I'm not afraid of things I've done.
But, I'm afraid of what I might do.
I haven't found a thing I need.
I'm not sure I have the will to.

I can't see far ahead.
I can't even see close.
I can't see the point.
I'm my virus' host.
I'm a deathbed-ridden star.
I'm a kingdom that fell.
I'm a hole inside a hole.
I'm a virus hotel.

Please shake me free
from the grip of everything.
Or, please let me be
and let my hope rest in peace.

I've been lost
and can't be found.
There's no shame
in letting me down.
I'm not here,
but I'm around.
I hold no shame
in letting you down.

I've been skipping around from place to place
with memories of tripping throughout the race
of life and I've been feeling down.
I've been feeling a need to escape this town.

I've got a sugar sweet taste for nickels and dimes,
but I always **** it away from time to time.
No, I don't mind the worst of me.
But, I've got a feeling it's killing me.

I've been lost
and can't be found.
There's no shame
in letting me down.
I'm not here,
but i'm around.
I hold no shame
in letting you down.

Lost and found.
Found and lost.
I'll bring you down
if that's a must.
Found and lost.
Lost and found.
Just bring me down-
It'll bring me around.

I'm used to disappointment,
but I don't readily avoid it.
It's a fixed and constant chain,
like always constant is change.

I'm used to disappointment-
I've been known to travel with it
and it's an ever-constant pain
like always constant is change.

Right around the corner,
there's a hoarder of liquor.
He wants to put it down,
but he needs it quicker.
The problems that he solves-
they don't mean a thing.
He needs everything with everything.

With a sober-straight face
and hands with nothing,
I try to lay it out to explain something.
But, he doesn't have an ear,
at least not for reason.
The bottle that he spins
doesn't land on anything.

I'm the kind of friend
that won't ever listen
and I don't ever mind it,
because I'm open-minded.

I don't need friends
that can eat their feet.
With that foot in your mouth,
where do you keep your teeth?

I was born out of love not to love.
I was born not to love out of love.
A recess is not fun like before.
No, we don't go out anymore.

I swear we made the disease before we made it's cure.
We're going all the way and making sure it's sure.
I'm not afraid of the after or the sooner at all.
I have made an occupation out of taking the fall
and my main set of focus isn't quite so simple after all.
You're just too far away from accepting this as your fault.

It's under no discretion; not classified or foiled.
I can freeze you out when your blood starts to boil.
I'm a savior in my own right and it's alright.
Say it's alright, because it's all right this way.

I swear we made the disease, before we made it's cure.
My mind is not held partial to your health anymore.
I'm a savior in my own right and it's alright.
Say it's alright, because it's all right this way.

I'm just a one chapter book-
I don't have much to say.
No, I don't have a lot of history,
But I always get things my way.

I met the great counselor once
in the middle of a field of hay.
But, I never did harvest much.
I earn my living a different way.

I'm no life preserver.
I'm no hand-me-down.
I'm the navigator
of a ship on its way down.

I'm a hated neighbor.
I'm not one to stare.
I'm no ******* savior.
I'm not able to care.

I rescue what I can,
but maybe this time I can't.
I will let you down again,
because I'm always good at that.

You're the cup of water at the side of my bed;
to drink and finish you was never my intent.
You're just there for comfort before I doze away again
and in the morning you're only useful down the drain.

Don't ever think that i'm a coward
living in my own disbelief.

Well, I've mistaken bravery for power
and its a cornerstone for me.

I've got a million things to ponder
And a million that I push aside.

I've made a mockery of you're finest hour.
I hope you think that this is fine.

I'm the blanket that you have always held so tight
without washing because it never seems so right.
So, in the morning I'll still be your best friend,
and I will always feel that way.

In the morning I'll still be your best friend
and I hope it always feels that way.

There's nothing as bright as sunlight.
but, nothing can replace your warmth.

You can say all night how, "it's alright."
But, neither of us have been here before.

There's no doubt in my mind
that I won't ever be fine.
I live with this burden
one day at a time.

Now, it's getting harder to see
the change I want to believe.
I live with this burden
'cause this burden lives with me.

Draw the shades and let me hide away.
I'd never write off my feelings anyway.

Cut out the light and let things feel right.
I'll never be able to see straight, at least not quite.

Your sense of delusion makes me sick
and while I thought that I was good at it,
my efforts don't seem to amount to ****
next to the heaps that you've harvested.

I swear your face is a place only for waste
and your eyes tell lies that pile to the sky.
To find that you've not mustered a sense humility
might be a worldwide shock, but is no surprise to me.

I know **** well  just who you are
and I know where you've come from.
Yet, I still don't understand the things
that we had once begun.

I swear you turn demons out from angels
and could make a Moon out of the Sun.
Just know that I'll be the one who's laughing
after all is said and all is done.