The timeworn valley deafens us with hollow sighs and screams.
Its captives ensure to advertise a uniform and mundane beauty.
Look past the freezing air and glacial words, lest we forget it’s better than it seems.

The sunlight on the frosty grass blinds us as it gleams.
We keep ourselves safe inside with scalding chamomile tea.
The winter gods shower in gold as another devotee screams.

The red chariot regrettably careens
Into the gates of Hell, as much deserving are we.
In times like this, we tell ourselves, “It’s better than it seems.”

In a bubble filled with emperors, tsars and kings and queens,
A king may think of another king, “I wish I were he.”
Inside of all the royals, the captive stabs and claws, bites and shoots, and screams.

The regal slaves make love under the biting moonbeams,
Not frozen yet, and never to be.
The prohibition and clandestinity make it better than it seems.

We have all divided into designated teams.
When the clock strikes four, they issue the royal decree.
This place is a shelter for our screams,
Because nobody’s home is better than it seems.

You don't know how **** hard it is
To say,
Because backseat drivers always have 20/20
Vision until the day that he takes
You into the alleyway
And says
"This'll be fast,"
And you say nothing, cuz you cannot see past
The moment that someone is telling you they
Want you.
And you feel like that there's nothing that you
Can do.
So he tells you you're a tease,
He says "Babe get on your knees,"
He says we're having fun so there's
No need to run.
In the aftermath of what had just ensued,
You realize how much you pushed away or if It's true
And the thoughts turn into tears,
And you face the fear
That maybe you were wrong, but you can't be
Wrong, right?
But newsflash, the 20/20 vision is gone,
Check your eyesight.

Because trying too hard is a ticket to Hell,
And the Devil won't take the soul you would sell.
If you walked from LA to a Jupiter moon,
You'd realize that it is not quite yet your doom.
It's something much worse. You are where you're at:
Caught in between peace and a heart attack.
Heartbeat was racing, but the gun did not shoot.
Intent versus action, the argument's moot.

If you look past all the people, you can see that there’s a ghost.
He sneaks around Manhattan, and he lightens all our loads.
We can hop onto the Crazy Train and holler, “All aboard!”
We tried to rock like Ozzy, but we missed too many chords.

I’ve met some saviors who have made me feel just so at home,
But when day breaks, they slip away, and I’m alone.
Five hundred new guitars
Won’t hide your battle scars.
All I can do is tell you the words you wanna hear,
Have another beer,
You’re not a martyr, dear.
Lions are just glorified house cats.

There’s not a drop of water, but it rains here all the time.
The sun comes every day, but it’s darkness that it shines.
Understand that I am broken and my heart’s too cold to touch.
You’re not all that different, dear. You smile way too much.

There are a hundred thousand reasons why a house is not a home.
So when day breaks, we slip away to be alone.
Dance with me for a while,
Foxtrot is not in style,
But we’re in ball gowns anyway, so
I’m too young, but I can drive,
So that you can ride
Shotgun in my dad’s Mercedes Benz.

Traipsing the sidewalk,
Making some small talk with yourself,
Time is wasted,
Love is tainted,
And the sun waits for you.

Cities are pretty rough,
Towns aren’t good enough,
Tell me exactly why you wanna run away,
Because when day breaks,
I’ll sing a song you used to know.

I.
Faces I see every day, but I am
Unable to recall a single one.
Enjoy the party, because they will scam
You into trapping yourself. Please, child, run.

There was no party. I dropped a pencil
And they told me I had sinned. They swallowed
Me for the first time. I lost potential
Consolation, for when they had hollowed

Out my deceived body, my cast-iron
Savior was out of my reach, and as I,
A desperate maggot, finally grabbed on
To the door handle, they had taken my

Mother away, and they judged yet again
That I had sinned. The white-eyed grey face then

II.
Swallowed me for the second time, only
To be taken back to moments ago.
When I had sinned for the final time, he
Then truly frightened me, for I did no

Wrong, and I stand by that. So bathing in
Sweat, the worst terror of them all,the world
Of the mundane, I grasp on the linen
Guardians, at least I think so. I am furled

And protected by these so-called “captors,”
For they merely wish to restrain me from
Eating the fruit.They **** half my life for
The safety of the other. The lump sum

Of this exchange is a **** deal, don’t let
Them swallow you for real this time. And yet,

III.
I always let them.The lines between worlds
Smudged away, liquidizing them in the
Craggy valley, where children played and twirled
Before the hit of my mind’s anarchy.

“The Children's War.” That was what they called it,
Because supposedly tranquilizers
And spears were infants’ playthings, but I bit
My tongue because I was scared. I slither

Into faux participation, and found
Myself guarding liquid life, seeds of thirst.
I am ashamed to speak of it around
This place, but it wasn’t so wrong at first,

Before I ate that ******* fruit those two
Half-witted wise ones deceived me into

IV.
Devouring. As my eyes were torn open,
They poured them with whiskey because I ran
Out of contact lens solution. And when
I was confused by the darkness’s plan,

They collected my tears for a cocktail
And gave it to me, expecting me to
Forget the ingredients. I tossed their grail
And some tossed me. Slowly, I got the cue

That the conductor was shoving into
The head of the incompetent robot.
It turns out the angels already knew
Of my cocktail, so they joined me for shots.

Even as they swallow all our stars,
As long as I’m here, we won’t crash the car.

V.
But then again, remember when I would
Talk into my plastic phone and follow
You as your booming laugh shook where you stood?
I had faith in you wherever we’d go.

If the whirring sounds of our bicycle
Wheels were to whisper your secrets into
My undeserving ear, you know I’d ****
To let deafness reign as my god. As you

Ramble through your existential *******,
I realize the words are intriguing,
But I merely acknowledge. Your skin fits
Your sentences like an old man crying

In a crib. I wish you could join me in
My multitude of worlds. But you have sinned.