I think it's time I go away,
Somewhere far so as not to hear,
I think it's time to find elsewhere to stay,
Far from the voices I have come to fear,

They're there almost everyday, in my head,
Dictating every breath or word I say,
But now I shan't think of them, instead,
I will think not of the binds my loved ones lay,

Now, now I will drift;
       Amongst the stars,
As I once often did with ease,
And escape finally, my self-centred harm,
Watching the world as I breathe,

Escape my Family, my Best friends, and Boy friend,
And the worries I feel every day,
Stop my mind, my brain's obsessing,
Over every single word or thought sent their way,

For from here I shan't worry no more,
Or care about social views,
Amongst the stars the world is smaller,
Even though physically huge,

My space, my mind,
Clear and free,
Will dance forever softly, away,
Whence I will be,
Just simple thought,
And exist throughout the Milky Way.

My words have dried up,
I have nothing left to say,
Along with my blood,
All feeling has drained away,
Like a corroding reel of film,
My life is left, sepia grey,
God must have known,
I won't see another day.

Nobody now can take this pain away.

Found; a dying *****,
Plays an off-key tune,
It's muscles are all torn or missing,
Has a hole the size of the Moon,

It's tubes are shredded and ******,
Has no Rythm to it's pounds,
Just lays on the floor barely moving,
Unsafe and structurally unsound,

There's evidence of attempted repair work,
Covered in stiches and staples that ooze,
Patches and droplets of salt crust,
As well as the faint reek of *****,

There also seems to be a label,
That someone has recently tried to remove,
Appears to not be surgical precision,
But that fact still has to be proved,

What is decipherable reads as,
"Please call if found"
I tried, dial tone, "number disconnected",
Seems no one wants it around,

Was left this way before Tuesday,
In the skip of apartment block 4/2,
No one has noticed it's missing,
There is nothing more that I can do,
(12/03/15)

Found; a dying *****,
Left alone, not wanted around,
Desperately needing stiches,
In hands where none can be found,
(15/03/15)

Lost; a dying *****,
I stopped trying to help it survive,
It's been a while, and no one has claimed it,
Now it belongs in another life,
(10/06/15)

Lost and Found; a dying *****,
A vital one so it now seems,
Went back to the skips yesterday,
Found; a dead girl, late teens,

Found;  a dying *****,
Singing an off key tune,
Her muscles are all torn; One's missing,
Left a hole the size of the moon,
(27/07/15).

You kiss me often
Hot lips to hot skin
Our burning fever bright
But we know not much more

Every meeting, in all our crossed stars
Although as heavenly as the bodies that contain us
Ends in heated whispers
That now glow like burning scars

As I look back upon our moments
That are supposed to hold our strongest love, not greatest fears
And see that they could be echoes
Of nothing more than
A sixteen year old boys newest ambition
From your half

From my half, in runny eyes
I see my fairytale reality
Imperfections and all
Fall apart at the fault that
You love me no more than your right hand
No more than the second choice
To the girl you would rather have

I am no angel or barber doll
I have faults, scars, and a past
-so do you
My reactions may not be impeccable
And my face one you'll never truly see
-although I wear no visible mask
Still I thought maybe,
For someone,
I was good enough
You made me believe I was,
Good enough,
For you

But then came the Days you were busy
And my Demons ran wild in the Night
Bouts of darkness so great
I was almost seduced by a knife
As my fear is loss,
Not being good enough to stop it
Not being good enough in life

And in your 'busy' you told your girlfriend you couldn't talk for days,
But still you would find time by some quirk
To talk to others of your current horrors,
But I'd pass it off as you needed time away from me and work,

Again and again my nightmares stirring
Were of you and your so personality-pretty friends
Or how behind my back, really
You were laughing at your means to an end
I pass that off as my paranoia
Our inability to talk, my anxiety
How it all made me feel ignored?
My depression entirely

Cause one day each week I would reset
We'd meet and greet, no work
Play games, have fun, smile and laugh
And make our relationship brightly burn

But now my fears have swallowed me
As one week turns to two and more
Your texts and calls no longer follow me
Other than a single, quick "are you free?" Drill, our "***" 's ignored,

This whole thing started out so beautiful
But now the monsters don't want to just play,
And I realised some of the scariest moments
Are those that burn bright as day

As closeted skeletons rattle their bones
I know I let someone in who set them free
I haven't said anything, I'm always right here
Right here where I said I would be

Now maybe you're going through some business right now
With which I have nothing to do
Or maybe it's all in my head after all
And another set of pills'll help me through
But I just want to say
Through it all- I'm still here
So where the hell are you?

Because your empty lips may kiss me often
But I'm more concerned with the pain in your eyes
I let you in, I won't hurt you,
Trust me please, it hurts when you lie
It hurts to think that I'm nothing
But your sixteen year old self's right hand
Yet it's the only way you ever seem to want me
And inside I wear **** like a brand.

-  -  -  -  -  - Pt I
When did this happen?
                                       When you let it.
Why do I care so much?
                                     Because you fell.
Will I survive?
                      God knows, but you'll try.

-  -  -  -  -  - Pt II
I handed you the loaded gun,
  Closed my hand around yours,
     Pressed the barrel to my head.
I tied the rope around my waist,
   Threw you the line,
      And jumped off the edge,

Pull the trigger.  Let me go.
         Don't catch me when I  F
                                                      A
    ­                                                       L
                                                               ­  L.
                                        It's all the same,
                                                      To me,
                                                     After all.
-  -  -  -  -  -  Pt III
Dear John/Jane Doe,
          I have doubts, I have fears,
          But for some reason,
          I haven't disappeared,
          I'm no good for you,
          But we're still here,

          I let you in,
          Do the same for me?
          Don't just stand there and watch me bleed,
         I beg of you,
         You're all I need.

And for God sakes, if you're not going             to catch me;
     Don't let me fall.

Life whispers through the mist,
As the grey water ripples slowly,
A slight breeze on the winds,
Changes all things unknowingly,

Birds of bones Clothed craw to claw in black,
Scratch at passing hours,
Nails on chalkboard teeth to grind,
Filing at daylights powers,

Sensory shadows dance,
Provocative and disturbing,
Curling and tearing at bleak visions edge,
Strangely alluring,

A sirens song of a sailor’s death,
Whistles on the breeze,
Don’t you know it dangerous?
To sail the seven seas,

But as life whispers through the mist,
And the grey water ripples slowly,
A slight breeze on the winds,
Changes all things unknowingly,

Earth and sea begin to meld,
And what was once is now gone,
Life leaves your breath behind,
To go dance with the sun.

I long for my escape,
Away from this all.
Time alone to seize the madness within,
Seize the darkness of the shadows;
And destroy them with a golden ray of light.

To find a place of blissful solitude where everything is gone,
I long to find my paradise and escape,
       - I need to, to live on.

My need for solitude as a means of salvation,
To stave off the ruins of my mind,
And bring back the light there once was,
To get away from the inky mass,
That encompasses my mind, my life...
Me.

I must escape, I Must,
Get away from this all,
Find my isolated paradise with waters of calm,
No thoughts,
No work,
No life,
No stress,
No bad,
No good,
No grey,
Only clear plain paradise,
An isolation and escape,

The sort that can come only,
In ones grave.