Today reality gave me a clear picture
I no longer see an illusion
But what I realize that my inception is my perception
Where am I? In this world I am a speckle of dust, diminutive I remain
Lost I remain, useless am I
I am tired of pretend faces
Weary of liars, cheaters and the world’s empty promises
I have seen more fake smiles
Than stupid rainbows of fantasy
I have witnessed life’s biggest moments
I watched mankind’s biggest failure
I know the feeling of defeat
Every time I come up for air
Life acts all unfair
The universe makes me the laughing stock
I have seen more backstabbers than genesis of day break
I met many monsters of this world
Monsters that are shoddier than demons that walk through the gates of hell.
They caused me more pain than piercing words of the devil himself
I have had my heart shattered to a million pieces
I have travelled pitch black paths that even darkness himself would never consider
I guess I got lost in life’s maze
I am dead beat from fighting to fit in
I am jaded from loosing invisible battles
I think it’s now Ok to say need I not any man’s opinion
I cannot take this feeling anymore
I now lay here… wondering…
How am I to escape?
Because veracity to the world
I was never human…… all I do is pretend, all I do is fake.
If life lets me… can I please ask… anyone out there?
What is it to be human????

I constantly talk to myself. Calming myself down because I am at that point: the breaking point.
I gradually shift between reality and fantasy as though I was a trauma patient dipping in and out of consciousness.
I drug myself yet my body retaliates back like a bush fire, I am so lost. So alone.
I can’t even breathe: I can’t think. I can’t sleep. I can’t live.
I wonder....... how did I get here? I used to have everything under control. I used to be sane.
I now feel like I am a failure, caught at this crossroad where loosing is my only option.
I look back and see people cheering me on, I look to my side and I see my own ghost.
With my mouth agape, I gaze at the pale figure, distraught and condemned.
I see disappointment. I am engaged to failure and married to death.
I no longer see the thin line between hate and fate.
Looking back I think I want to play god, I want to be god.
God in this moment, in this era that I am facing. I am like the scorched earth.
I cry out for a single drop, a single drop of faith, hope and redemption.
Dear god if you ever existed, this is me calling out: this is me giving me up.
If not then let me call the angel of death, let me die from this dark cloud.
Let me die from this wonder. Let me die before I get to meet my ghost.
Let me die before disappointment says his vows; let me die before I die.
I am tired of dreaming a dream that is an illusion. Even dishonesty couldn’t sell the lie to me.

CONFESSIONS OF A DROPOUT: DEAR EDUCATION
I am caught up in the ideal world where I breeze through the fast paced life
I look back and I see no one not even my own shadow
Life dumped me on a rainy day because I wanted to become of this generation
I was everything to pretend friends
Life seemed worth it with everything but you
The drugs, the cars, the money and the alcohol… ****! I even drank methanol
But when push came to shove I had to grow up
By then life had already given me deathly blows that were beyond me
Deathly blows that sent me to a dark pit, a dark pit were life ceases to exist
God himself knows that I am beyond saving grace since I am a different case
Truth be told I dug my own grave
Now I am a slave to this burning rage
I now believe I am going to rot in this cage
Poverty looked and me said when I grow up I want to be like that girl
Pain looked at me and shed tears….. Death visited me and renounced its existence
So dear education if you ever get this letter know that I send my sincere apologies
I wish I could have listened, I wish we could have been friends more
I now live a life of regret were I dream of having a ride on death’s train
I wish you could take me back but furthermore I pray that you lend me a dying wish
Dear education…… please do accept my apologies!

AM I REAL?
The silence to me is very loud.
My shift from fantasy to reality is a dream as the echoes of my own pain paralyze me.
I dream of a dream that ceases to exist since it’s alive in my own world that is parallel to reality.
I block out deathly memories of a sick twisted childhood. I think the lies in my head are catching up with me.
I constantly tell myself lies, secrets and fantasies the Pandora box denied. Am I for real?
I yearn for the unknown. This black hole has me hopelessly mesmerized. Lost beyond return.
I can no longer hear my own voice. Dead I remain. Still. At hell in my own peace.
I surrender to this fear that gave birth to me. I am slave to a slave. Prisoner to a prisoner.
As I say ash to ash, dust to dust, what do I tell the world about me?
Death to death, fear to fear, hate to hate and darkness to darkness.
As hate gave birth to me she abandoned me for happiness. Her kind of “happiness”
“They” say I am a ray of light to their darkness.  Somewhat a glimpse of hope. A mirror to their dreams.
“They” say I inspire the expired. Give redemption to the lapse of those who have given up.
Are “they” for real? If and when they strip me of this pretence they will know.
They will reveal deep dark secrets that hell could not hold.
I used to vacation in hell until one day the devil kicked me out.
He told me I was to “damaged” for his liking. Too corrupt for him to handle
Too evil to be evil.

One thing I know, one thing I wish for, one thing I would die for
One thing I pray for is that you die a horrible death
I wish … yeah that’s right...It’s just a wish!
If I had the choice to free you or the devil himself
If I had a choice between life and death
A route between heaven and hell… I would sure choose the latter for you
Trust me; I have acknowledged the fact that I am a biological error.
A constant remind of your foolish mistakes. Your own hell I suppose.
You made me make pain a hero, a friend and a **** father you never were.
Death was my mother that I desperately prayed to for her to take me home.
I was desperate for my own peace at my lonely grave
Desperation could not keep up with me; I guess I was beyond the poor thing.
I hope that someday life will serve you as a devil’s dish.
In my own world, in my own fantasy, my own deception of coping with reality, you do exist.
In my own world I am daddy’s little girl, with the pony tails and ****.
I am that girl that waits for you to come back from work.
You exist as a figment of my own imagination when people talk about their families.
I long for your embrace like the Sahara’s desert crave for water.
I long for freedom like a slave. My own emotions crucified me.
I stare down death everyday as though I was staring at you.
I guess the simple truth is that I want to see a friendly face in this empty crowd.
Dear father, I hope they have a special place for you in hell, were you will burn for eternity.
When I needed you, you needed a needle. I cried for you but you cried for some sick *****!
I cried for weeks and months until it hit me; you aren’t worth it.
You missed the first time I walked. The first time I talked. The first time I shined bright.
I bet you are going to run away from your own funeral! That’s what you are good at.
So dear father, wherever you are don’t die yet. You still have to see my success story.
Witness with your own eyes how life ****** you up on a good opportunity.
I hope your bottles, fake *** ****** and more babies keep you warm at night.
I hope a car doesn’t run over you anytime soon.
Abandonment looked at you and ran away; responsibility looked at you and committed suicide.
But do not worry, I am here to stay. Call me your worst nightmare if you must.
When I told the devil my story he quit running hell and went back to heaven.
He felt you deserved it more. You are hell. Can you hear the bell? Your ride is here.
I will give you a ride to your own little grave.  Your little own cave.  
I think if you do get this letter know that this is what the universe calls impartiality.

LOSS
The violent waters hitting against my fragile face become bullets that punch holes through me.
I struggle to breath; as gravity deserts me because weakness left me hanging.
I look up to the heavens, I ask this god! I question the universe…..
Why me?  In this center stage I cry out! I scream! Can you hear me, Loss?
The echoes of my own voice paralyze me, left unanswered like so many of my silent yet loud prayers.
I dream of a dream where I stare down death everyday yet never befriend it.
I am a man who is running against time, hoping and wishing for the impossible. Am I sane?
I knocked on redemptions door as the heavens renounced my own mere existence.
Pain dug itself a grave and held a funeral for itself after it met “my pain”
It was a day to remember as I saw on death’s face a feeling of remorse.
Death felt pity for me; he did regret his selfless decisions of taking those I love.
Yet again I dare to use this word that I know nothing of! “LOVE”
I yearn to see a friendly face in the empty crowd; I wish to see the invisible.
I try to mirror my own horrid voice and compulsive acts
My own tears are no longer a defense against my own defense
Life slips through my fingers swiftly though as if it was water passing through
I look down on this grave and I see, I witness what life robbed me of!
All these people talk about is a land of milk and honey; does it exist?
If it does, could I departure any sooner?
I try to see the rainbow beyond this darkness… I try to witness hope.
Loss has me tied down; in its deathly grip I wriggle under death itself.
Loss has given me deathly blows that the devil never gave me.
Loss is a fiend , a master of pain beyond pain
Loss I beseech thee, keep away from my circle
Loss, in this deathly platform, I forgo myself for the “others”
Loss in this dais I am a loss to you.

I embarked on a journey, a road trip to search for the unknown among the invisible
The loud clatter, the cold silence, keeps me still and restless.
I hold my head up high, and then suddenly I receive deathly blows that sent me to my cold grave. I look up and I witness that “mercy” is the one beating me to a pulp.
At this point my knees are bruised, black and blue from praying silent yet loud unanswered prayers.
Life passes me by as if I did not exist, time refused to stand still as the wrath of the meek invaded me.
For a split second I thought I found redemption, hope and sheer peace. I was wrong. i am wrong.
What did I ever do to this evil world? I do everything by the book, everything!
But then I guess sometimes everything is not enough. I am not enough.
I drown in my own pool of blood, I think now life is trying to give me closure.
I think I am beginning to see the clearer picture: if all there was ever one.
Life is not fully of rainbows and stories about riding into the sun set.
Its not about the knight and shining armor who rescues the damsel in distress. Life is life.
When you are young “they” painted a beautiful picture. The best there ever was.
As I grew the paint started to peel, the canvas disintegrated before my own eyes.
Even the greatest painter like Picasso could not rescue or paint “my picture”
Harsh conditions of this dear world rendered me my worst nightmares.
Now as I paint my own picture, I have nothing but this dark background.
I try to reminisce all there ever was but memory led me to my dark grave.
These dark graves were I was born; even the slaves did not want me!
Life has created desolation and called it uttermost peace and happiness.
Death. Death. Death is my only friend, my only choice.
At I time like this, I forget that I was never given a choice; life made the choice for me.