Close
Your
Eyes

Think.
Dream.
Disappear.

If you are the sunlight,
Then I am the grey.
If I am the nighttime,
Then you are the day.

There are
Parts of
This world
Where you
Can't be found.

There are
Parts of
This world
Where you
Are found.

There are
Things
Deeper
And darker
Than I,
So maybe
I am not
So bad.

There are things
Deeper
And darker
Than you,
Than what you've
Been through,
So maybe
We aren't
So bad.

If you can find
Light in my
Sunset eyes
Then I can find warmth
In the fire within yours.

Close
Your
Eyes.

Think.
Dream.
Appear.

*If you are the sunlight,
Then I am the grey.
If I am the nighttime,
Then you are the day.

Sometimes i just want
to disappear
and sometimes I just want
to be seen.

and sometimes
I'm too caught up
in the in between.

see me, ******!*
I shout into the void.

know me, ******!
I scream into nothingness.

please!
I beg
acknowledge me!
I whisper into the vast blankness
of existence.

I just want to be somebody
I whimper
*just somebody to someone.

Where exactly.
To what end.
For whom.
Rhetorical or not.
The questions stand like.
Like the rest of the monotonous.
In lines.
Guided by carpet and cards alike.
Strung about the strung out.
As if the norm.
Was within the crystal ball.
Answers that seemed to ring from nowhere.
Cascaded through the crowd about.
Faster than one would realize.
Before.
Less of what was.
Emerged into a plague of sorts.
Where sense and logic seemed more seance than the latter.
If only emptiness.
Knew pain.
Pity.
The world found another,
to consume.

It happens.
Past any point that any would ever.
Imagine.
Through.
Over.
Inside.
Burned.
And bruised.
Broken.
So broken.
But then.
One must break.
To find.
Exactly.
What fits.
In such a way.
In only one way.
Something that doesn't hold with tape.
Or glue.
Nor a day.
Or two.
And once together.
Regardless of the hardships felt.
There is only momentum to gain.
For when all the pain is in the past.
These eyes can finally open.
And these once twisted paths.
Have never been more clear.
For.
I.
Me.
Know which one I am destined to walk.
And I know.
With whom
I will walk it with.
No matter what it was that we thought.
We stand here now.
Atop the mountain.
Ready.
To take this plunge.
And when I wake.
Will this dream.
Be the reality.
That I will forge.
With this hand.
And hammer.
You brought us back from the brink...
....
And I.
I will keep us from it.
Forevermore.

There is always something to have come.
Before.
Some rule.
Unspoken knowledge.
Common supposedly.
Is there a way to hear the whispers.
When your the one screaming.
But this facade can only contain desables.
Unattainable.
So many believe.
The vast majority relinquish it.
Like a ***** penny.
Too overused to even see the year.
And forgotten.
Just another piece to be tossed.
But should it find its way into the pool of eternity.
Would it be too greedy.
To shine once more.
Be reminted.
Reclaimed.
But like so many.
Do they find themselves.
Spent.
Wasted on a wish.

i light the match.
consume what is now my best friend.
the simple burn.
gives way to complicated thoughts.
a chemical conversation.
one that always leads nowhere.
yet everywhere at once.
i exhale slowly.
he slowly follows suit.
he seems to be the only one ever present.
he seems to be the only constant.
and i seem to be turning to him more than ever.

Force.
Nothing.
And naught prospers.
Yet add the slightest amount of anything.
Does everything seem to fall that much.
Faster.
The sacred walls it seems.
Have paper like qualities.
Without the writing.
All the actions used for good.
Only spurred the opposition.
Riding at the coat tails of hope.
Or so one would think.
But it was only misfortune.
Masquerading.
Dazzling sight with flashy distractions.
Reveling in each illusion campaigned.
It would seem it's ploy was discovered some time ago.
But not all parties were aware.
Allowing the innocent means.
To be fooled.
The kind that make others feel sorry for.
Because of how oblivious.
One can truly be.

There is s boy.
Always reaching.
For what is just out of reach.
The boy knows he will grow.
Even after the disappointment of not being enough.
Does he cling to the wall.
Patient.
Eyes fixed.
The cadaver bellow.
Grows as well.
Some days it feels as if it will grow limbs.
Just to rip him from crossing the finish line.
Each day is a sacrifice.
A communion with death.
For losing a piece of oneself.
Is a small price.
To be able to...
Live.
Love a day longer.
Only too many days have inched by.
Too many scars have been accumulated to be seen any other way.
All the pain.
Is met with disgust.
No one would dare lock eyes with such a grotesque.
Being..
The cries of agony and sorrow.
Are heard only as rage and hate.
Sadly.
Should the next ledge come into reach.
It is unknown.