The poet lives two lives.
One on the outside,
And one in their mind.

When you look in their eyes
You could see an abyss.

If you looked long enough
You could sink into it.

But most people don’t see it.

Take the time to read the words, though,
And you would know for sure.

The poet lives in two different worlds.

They make the rules up,
They break the rules down

The nation looks on with a solemn frown
This from the men whom wear this country's crown

JJB

He is a good boy
I love my dog so dearly
Tax fraud is not bad.

Break my bones;
cut my throat.
Pull me open,
learn the ropes.

Breath me in;
taste the fear.
Shank my skin;
stand and cheer.

Kick my head;
let me bleed.
Unbolt my veins;
enjoy the read.

Gouge my eyes;
punch my face.
Wrap me up
in your embrace.

The soft sound of your beating heart
can soften even the biggest storms inside me.
The gentle sound of your voice
lulls me into a sense of hope and wonder
that maybe this world isn't always so bad.

The warm embrace of a friends arms
bringing back to a sense of reality
where I am not lost to the monsters inside my head,
but am someone much stronger,
able to defend the broken parts.

The serenity of peaceful silence,
where you are just there and nothing more
compliments my sullen tears,
building up a strength I never knew I had
Until I will no-longer fall prey to the demons of the past.

Sitting in my silence of solitude,
I won't spark a conversation.
Won't fight if I'm the exclude,
I'll be fine with this isolation.
I know I won't become that focal point,
For I'm much too afraid I'll disappoint.