This page is terrifying,
        and now it is mine.
There are no rules on this page,
        my eyes are all that see it.
        My pencil greets it with my hands stroke.
        My movement takes it where ever I please.

I would like to enhance my style with technique.

People:         my greatest fear
                                 &
                     my greatest love
                         intertwined.

Often times I mistook that love for hate, yet
looking back upon the reasons, I realize how
vain they were. How horridly timid I was to
let the truth, lies and rumors all become one.

How silly the grief of things.
         How rude of me to focus in on them.

As if the plague was the cure to the madness
engulfing me as my friendships grew and
declined in number so rapidly. If only I could
say that I knew what I was doing.

How glad I am to say that I was not.
         How glad I am to say that I learned to move on.

I have learned, at that.
I will bloom at winters end.

I see you, as if for the first time,
and my heart collapses upon itself
a million times over. I see you, and
my tongue tastes like silver as I speak.

Words cannot contain themselves within my vessel.
Words cannot escape the realms in which I tread.
Words fall short and I bend over to pick them up.
Words slip through my fingers and burn my skin like acid.

Words trip me over myself, myself breaks habits
and creates new ones, new words to fall after, new
webs to catch opportunities to catch you to leave me
bruised.

Morning fails me,
afternoon and you lose me,
night beckons my entirety
and my self is searching.
I can no longer control my direction
as I am pulled by "fate".

I saw you again for the first time in forever.
Your eyes were sad, curious, and tired.
They were hurried in their silence, and
screaming in their wake.

"I will see you again!" they said, "I don't know when,
but soon..."

Now is forever, and I will see you again.
Now is a friend, the past an enemy.
Now is reality, and all else a memory.

I am dissolving in my madness,
having days that run like snakes,
I want to slam the breaks of my wake
and shake the feeling that I am a mistake.
Each day that passes tells me to take myself
and go, find a ride, hitch hike, **** yourself before
it's too late to stop breathing, semi-comfortably,
in these darkened days that bud neglect, and
self-destruct. I enjoy the rude and malicious
taste of nutrition after being starved of all
passion. I enjoy the pain-tattered crack
in my skull from the thoughts I collect.

I want to project something worth a lifetime.

I will soon create
I will soon abstain
I will soon.
I will...

Whilst I was searching through forests so lush
I came across a red wood, she soon became my crutch
I fell down in weakness, leaned beside her roots
she told me dark secrets, of the one beneath the lake
my heart was no match for her brilliant gaze
she watched me run down futures past
fleeing the scene, with a cave-dweller dream

it was magic
that I was after
it was magic
that was dark

the dragons wait restless in caves with my soul
they want me to drag the witches from their hole
temptation is frightening, I want to grasp it all
the power of darkness beckons me too deep
long nights before me, the monsters will wait

it was magic
they were after
it was magic
that was light

I found myself dreaming, dragon hearts in my hands
blood more black than night, blood all in my eyes
no more sight, no more thought, but I feel
a presence
what's this? I'm here.

The darkness calls, the darkness screams
the darkness keeps me in her arms.

I wake to a noise of a branch, breaking thin
it's wood, it's the tree, she's a blaze in her red
in my head, I try and hold her, in my hands
I'm a flame
I am free
such as a stream
I am tame
such as a whisper
I am free.

my wolf is yet a plague of thought,
again I am consumed by loves gentle rock.
the more it shields me from the stench of my rot,
I remember all I once forgot.

no one has caught my heart,
in fact,
I think it's torn apart
so raw, the tragedy of desire
the smoldering fire of blue flames
burn my love into a smoke,
which I inhale with the attempt
to recycle and filter out all the hurt I've caused.

to myself
to others
and for no one.

a romantic dying hard
trying not to escape the truth
while at the same time trying not to create any lies.

the deep water I believed to be treading through
was mud all along:

bed side table herman hesse
looks up to see one of van goghs, wants to undress
doesn't have a ******, this *** is a mess
she's not surprised
'cause she's a pessimist.

to her loves affairs:

she's keepin' shut
no more love left in her gut
the feelings escaped her through the cuts
one for every lover
she didn't give a ****
don't worry about her wrists
instead she likes to use her fists,
bad throws, punching chains
lets the men drive, fast lanes.
bruises are the names of the faces she misplaced
in her bones where she resides,
it's a pillow that she lies beside.

she's not a trick
she's not a *****,
most feared is to be a bore
so she smiles and speaks,
too much? doesn't grieve.
as long as what she's saying is something to believe.

as long as you're in the mood
to laugh
there's no need
to wear a mask
just leave alone
the aching things
that bring you
beneath
the weight of gravity.

heavy heavy heavy
leave me to my beats

I'll walk the streets

heavy

The yearning to dissolve
is sending subtle attempts at destruction of self.

Yes, I continue to struggle with the same subject.
Pulling at the edges of what I thought I wanted
so hard that I cause a rift in my desires, finding
that there's nothing I want or need in this life.

Simply fleeting are all the things that happen to me,
all the things I do to others, and whatever it is that
will be the end of us.

it's the end of me.
right here.
last night.
this morning.
one year ago
a love killed
everything I was.

an escape.
escape from me, I'm toxic
and I'm bleeding
and I'm going to drink that blood.

I made a promise not to hurt myself...

nothing more or less
I am what I am, but the more I feel,
the more I feel like I'm less.

wanting EVERYTHING all at once,
not caring this time, I'm going to scribble,
it's more beautiful than not being understood at all.

I'll scribble and let you think what you want
as I taunt myself with the truth of things so
painfully that I feel like it has to be a lie.

yet

here I am spilling my guts
my insides
my self
all by myself I am tortured with lovers
from all angles
some call me an angel
yet all I want is black
and the darkness within me is screaming
telling me I'm not doing what's right for my soul
yet all I want is black
and the darkness within me knows
telling me I'm doing my best for the ones that surround me.

I keep wanting to remove myself from this life I'm living.
too painful to look in the eye, I just stare at myself as if I am someone else.
knowing that I am who I am and that each time I meet someone
I am NEW, a creature they have never seen before and to them I am NEW
and FRESH and beautiful
and..
tortured? you?! ME? NO, they could not believe it.

I am a thinker, I am loved
I am special in their eyes
a gem or a diamond, a reflection of my insides is what I hide behind
perhaps never to find what it is that others see in me.

depression is something I can handle,
oddly enough it's something I can't schedule,
it's not something I can comprehend, it's simply something I live with.

I hold it in strange faces,
you know the ones that are so often played with,
fake smiles.
except you make me smile!
it's not fake,
it's just easy to dismiss the sadness when in your presence.

this!

I don't want to have to be around others for happiness.
I don't need to be.
I haven't learned how not to be as well as I'd like to have learned by now.
I ought to have learned by now.
I'm making progress.

I cannot afford to attach myself completely,
because as soon as I detach then there will
surely be not enough left to be complete alone.
Barely now, I can stand on two legs without
some sort of destructive quality in my heart.
Barely now, do I remember how to love.

Do I remember how to love?
or accept it?

I cannot accept it
unless I do not realize it.

I do not realize what or who I am
and I wish to find without search.

yes, I am thinking.
thinking too much?
if that's what you say then I agree.
not thinking enough?
I agree as well.

it's all about what you think about that determines
the amount of "too much" and "not enough".

don't give me grief because my focus is not yours.
don't give me attention.
I'm a child, crying out for attention.
if you give me what I want,
all I'll want is more.

step up and sink in
my mind is a riddle
swollen with thinkin'
surprised at what you made me feel
I thought it was impossible.

is there something so wrong with me
that one mentioning your closeness
and I'll get up and run to you?
even if I'm sure I'd break more?

you words are strings
and mirrors, I don't want to be so caught
in your tangles. don't tell me what to do.