there's no way to be the truest
when you think about it
every blue is sky blue

mistakes
or second guessing
no one will know now
what that eraser dust was

I can't say "I'm sorry"
I can't say "I love you"
I can't say "Don't go"
So I guess I'd better say "Goodbye"

there are things
i'm unable to escape
there are things
i love and despise
and the feeling is mutual
there are things
i feel guilty about
and wrong without
there are things
that feed on sorrow
and despair would be
their victory feast

and then there are things
that are all of the above
and those things
are one of two things:
addictions
afflictions
and sometimes
when lines in sand
are worn down by wind
when watercolors
run together
when one thing
is a bit too close to the other
something is both

now can anyone
who's seen what i've seen
tell me the difference
between
an addiction
and
an affliction?

no matter how many times you say it
"i need you"
doesn't hold a candle to
"i love you"
and no matter how much
you needed me
you never really loved me

What is this that I'm feeling?
Just a chemical reaction?
Dopamine, serotonin, oxytocin?
Is this all just a science?
Something that can be manufactured in a lab?

It can't be.
How can something that feels so real be so easily fabricated?

there's no such thing as cool kids
no one really knows what's right
diamonds are just rocks
dark is just absence of light
love cannot be proven
wars are never really won
people are just atoms
just like lilies, stones, and suns.

Perfect, imperfect lines,
Etched into already stinging skin,
New, bleeding lines,
Where the old ones are starting to fade,
Deep, red lines,
Never letting scarred skin truly heal,
Uniform, horizontal lines,
Each with a reason.

Each red line will fade to pink
Be replaced by new ones
But once a line is made
It never truly leaves.

I built these walls to protect myself
I couldn't risk any more wars
You're standing just outside the wall
But I'm never opening the doors

Humans. Evil by nature, killers by choice.
Caring only for themselves, and not taking a second to consider another.
Thinking that they deserve more than everyone else.
They **** first, ask questions later.
They tear eachothers lives apart.
They trampeled everything I held dear and tore my dreams to shreds with words.
They embody everything I despise.
Yet, I am trapped inside of one.

Surrounding me was a hurricane
of pain, sadness, and anger.
There I stood, trapped in the eye,
engulfed in numbness, emptiness, and static.
My only escape was through the torrent of agony around me.

Many times, I tried to escape that silent sea of grey by fighting my way through the walls of my prison, hoping against hope to break through and find joy on the other side,
But I became lost in the raging torment and was forced to return to my cell.

Many times, simply wanting to feel something other than the dullness that had become my reality, I grit my teeth, and force myself into the swirling void of misery, to feel pain once more. Until the torture was unbearable and I retreated to the emotionless abyss.
I needed the pain to remind me that I was still alive.

Many times, when the pace of the traveling storm quickened, I was forced to run to remain within the calm nothingness, but I continued to trip and fall back into the darkness and pain until I could regain my step.
Then, I pressed on, at the mercy of the unforgiving cyclone.

I lived like this for what seemed like an eternity.
Until one day.

The wind slowed, slightly, I saw a beam of light for a fraction of a fraction of a second.
It was gone all too soon, and now I am left to constanly search my heart and mind for that one thing that may calm this storm and free me from

my prison,

my hurricane.

staring
at a plain white ceiling
eyes burning
hands frozen
not moving
not blinking
not thinking.
what's the point?
4:06 AM
why sleep?
why do anything
but stare
at a plain white ceiling?

You can't live like this
You can't love like this
In bursts...
They'll think you're dead
They'll bury you
Before your heart beats again

Don't feel ashamed.
Don't feel guilty for the pain.
Sometimes you build your hopes up,
And they fall back down again.
The time we had was magic,
Your love was not in vain.
Falling down's as common as the rain
-David Wilcox

looking straight up
scared to look down
scared to slip
and fall
off the solid ground

teardrops on lashes
and knives going missing
bright crimson blood stains
arms scratched and tongues bitten
gritting your teeth
when it begins to sting
why are these some of my favorite things?

please think about. it ask yourself why you can't sleep. don't be afraid to dig down deep. deep down we all know that we were meant for more than this- more than burnt out days and nights and flickering lights that poison our minds and leave us with static thoughts behind dark eyes because we never wondered why or how we wake up day by day even with souls crumbling away, or if or when we may just find what we have gotten used to hiding, biding our time for nothing at all until we find something more than typical.

why does everyone hate the blood in their veins?
they'll drain it from their wrists
replace it
with morphine
with liquor
do you hate living?
or do you just love bleeding?
do you just love replacing
sustenance with poison?

drawing is easy when you're tracing
tracing over lines from long ago
lines from different mediums
different circumstances
different art
tracing over old lines
with new methods
is a new form of art

Behind my eyes lies a world,
A distorted fantasy,
A dystopia,
A twisted, broken wonderland.

A dark, dead wood,
Filled with sorrows,
And forgotten dreams,
Rotting away in dying trees.

The icy wind chills my bones
And stings my skin.
The heavy scent of death
Forces its way into my lungs.

Creatures in the dark
Sing their broken melodies.
I cover my ears and close my eyes.
“We’re all mad here”, they assure me.

The crescent moon bares its teeth,
Shining its sickly glow,
Blocked from the ground only by
The ominous shadows of the towering trees.

I sometimes feel someone behind me,
Or see something lurking in the dark.
And sometimes I’m alone in this forest of darkness.
I don’t know which one scares me more.

They tell me it’s all in my head.
Of course they’re right,
But that doesn’t make this terrible wonderland
Any less real.

Pain is a monster.
Control it,
fight it,
isolate it.
Lock it away
in a padded cell,
Silence it,
ignore it.
Don't let it spread.
Don't let it take over.
If you become your pain,
they treat you the same way,
like the monster you are.

Sometimes, I can wake up, and actually feel good about myself.
And if I'm lucky and it's a busy day, I can live without a sense of self-loathing.
But at night, when I'm not tired yet, theres no escape from the tears.

Sometimes, I can go weeks without shutting people out.
And if I talk to good people I can forget how evil humans are.
But when people try to hurt me, I have to shrink away to protect myself.

Sometimes, I can learn to love life, and smile.
And if I act out of compassion, I can make a difference.
But the smallest thing  can send me over the edge into a hatred for life.

I am not characterized
by red roses,
white pills,
dark circles,
or by sad poems,
dark clothes,
running mascara.
I am not
a warrior,
an angel
a silhouette,
or a dream,
a story,
a greyscale photograph.
My mind is sick,
not beautiful,
not tragic,
and not aesthetic.
If I jump,
I die.
If I cut,
I bleed.
And my death is forever.
And my blood is red.

far to close for comfort,
but it feels so right.
heart beating like a hummingbirds wings,
but i feel so calm.
both eyes open,
and i can't see you clearly.
but you look nicer like this,
all you sharp edges
soft to my blurred vision.
lines are wavering,
colors swirling together,
but never has anything seemed so clear.

you remind me of someone  from one of my past lives
so pardon me if I stop and stare
and I'd like to take the time to get to know you better
but I've got no time to spare
you seem unaffected by the gloom of other people
so wherever you are in life, I wish I was there

crumbled under pressure of trouble
reborn from ashes and rubble
creation brings about destruction
destruction brings about creation
day is born from night
dark turns from light

I don't want to live like this tomorrow
So I need to stop living like this today
I need some ones to help me escape this sorrow
So I need you to help me find my way

I can't fight without you here beside me
So fight this battle with me help me win
I feel like a hero when you're with me
So help me take back my life again

they sell us cigarettes
get us addicted
so that even when
"smoking kills"
is stamped on each box
we keep buying and buying
maybe it's just another marketing trick
intrigue the hopeless addicts
with the possibility of their destruction

when the first fire started to die,
man did not know how to save it.
if they touched it it burned them,
so it's heat and it's light
faded away.

i feel the way that dying flame felt:
helpless,
flickering out of existence
those around powerless to save me
without being burned.

i will not* cut myself down just because
my prosperity makes you uncomfortable.
i will not shrink myself for
someone who refuses to grow.
i am a garden of spirit and life.
i will not apologize if
you would prefer a desert.

she didn't know how to read
but she loved to look
at page after page
of book after book
each letter was so beautiful
she decided to teach herself to read
so she could learn what each beautiful word meant
she went back to her books
after she learned every letter
but she discovered
that if you knew what those words meant
they weren't so pretty anymore.

when the wind falls back
dies down
the fire burns brighter
the flames sting again
but burning
is better than darkness
the inferno
is favorable over the abyss

i'm trapped between life and death and uncertainty
my head always feels like i'm stuck hanging upside down
a quantum dream in which anything is everything and nothing
reality seems to have been all but unwound
i'm coughing up smoke as i drown

the TV screen static
is burned to the insides
of my eyelids and now that is
all i see when i close my eyes

constantly dreaming,
but never asleep
it feels like i'm floating
but i'm sinking deeper and deeper
into my mind
leaving behind
all that i used to call real

countless epiphanies met in between train tracks
entropy and insanity conspiring to wear me down
walls full of polaroids and bottles of prozac
crying out for help in the middle of a silent town
i'm coughing up smoke as i drown

the microphone feedback
is stuck in my ears
when the sky is jet black
the noise refuses to disappear

constantly dreaming,
but never asleep
it feels like i'm floating
but i'm sinking deeper and deeper
into my mind
leaving behind
all that i used to call real

concertos played on
nothing but black keys
incandescent light bulbs
dangling from trees
i'll write about this wonderland
if i ever make it home

**i'm leaving behind
all that i used to call real

i you're planning
to hold your breath
until you get
what you want
then take a deep breath
'cause your lungs
won't fill again

i cut and paste line after line
from your book of tragedies
to patch up broken phrases
in my broken poetry

i carve out line after line
out of each of your words
while stones may break these bones
words can never *hurt

This is my heart.
Right now, it's empty.
If you can fill it, you can have it.
If you take good care of it, then keep it.
But if you don't want it, you can throw it away.
I don't need it anymore.