my life is like a glass,
it isn't empty but there's very little water.
and it's not the type of water
that tastes better than usual;
it's just flat and bland,
not even lapping like calming beach waves,
or an excited dog.
it just sits motionless in its trap,
transparent and devoid of colour.

Not one thing!

Not a bottle, nor a song
nor a conversation
could 'ere last too long
Not a heartbeat, nor a rhyme
Never a marriage
not this time
Nothing lasts forever my friend!
Not even the pages we scribe!
Neither oil nor acrylic
even water based leaks
under the test of time
No ink will outlast us
No pencil could describe
either of our loneliness
completely erased by the tide
Nothing lasts forever
The sunset taught me that!
The sunrise fools us into thinking
that the sun will stay where it sat
It's why we keep on going
knowing, nothing will ever last
We die each night only to wake
pretending we forgot the past

Heavy foot steps and lead laeden words.
Trying to create sense of this emergancy of birds.
Predators hiding lurking in the laminate
sealed in with a kiss the layers are feeling permanant.
Clear obsidion mixed with volcanic ash.
Crushing down on me, im gasping for breath.
Shaking like a mountain just before the eruption
trying to remove myself from this plastic corruption.
Daisies die in feilds..
Deers burn as the air horns call out the catastrophy.

You all need to run from me.

Silence in my self, I am no longer seeking
i need to break free and sing just as birds sing.
Calling out the warning; shaking up the evergreens.
its all interconnected.
Hyperspatail turbulance im screaming in my bed
im worried
im afraid
im trying
its working
i think that the plastic might just be burning
the toxic
the posion
its all gassing off from me
dont breath me
i feel like its something.


I could just be werid. Relaxing in turbines, i think im just trying and poems lead to calm minds.

Make sense of me. Make sense of you.
And you.
And you.
Im caought up in the subterfuge.  Capracioisly grapsing
for what im not sure.

Cattawompus canyons are cut into my heart. Im so confused information on piecharts
, the values dont match
the legend is misleading.
God seems to be warrenting this healing.
Kicking in the door
creating a dizzy storm.
Cyclopeon rage
stolen from days of yore..

Its time to let go.
Its time to grow.

Just understand me . just for a breif moment. I am harmless. I am less. I am lost. I need rest..

A bunch more words too honest too painful. I write poems to unleash all that is shameful.

This hurts.

This is needed.

I am bleeding.

Just so I am.

Just living.

Just leaving.

Just kidding.

Just bidding.

Betting.
On when its all ganna explode.
On when the subroutiunes will need a defrag machine when the bios gets corrupted when the system wears down when i will stand in the light looking like a ******* clown.
Because i trusted.

Why is this so hard?
I am 24 years old and cant drive a mother ******* car.
Fear is a disease that i can not squah on my own
a whole battallion of star ships need to warp into my home and disrupt the radio frequencies that speak to me
in dreams the nightmares unending the face grips and rending my cheek bones are tensing my teeth are condensing milkbones and raw tones

This excitment inside me
burns out the live feed
darkness envolopes mailed sent by trumpet
these echos of my thoughts
repeat the words taought
like liar and loser you dumb ******* ****** acomplish not nothing but your something is ******* just so god ****** worthless they all wait for your face to turn to a frowning grimice of you drowning you floundering ****** you sociatial ****** you cautious cat crawling as dogs get the tasties of life while your wasting your time just complainging this echo echo chamber needs to be ******* obliterated. A star dust deconstruction and rebuilding of the most primitive functions.

Take me from my own head.
I made my bed.
Id lie in it. But. Its made of my own meat and guts.

Friends
.. I need your ******* help.

Just.
Be you. Perfect.

I trust you. Despite what these echos say bouncing in my brain.

Just.

This is too much.

Just.

I think im just werid..

Just.

Please dont run.

the one with  handful of chalk and myseries
the one with love and mind as books..

Is it that I'm really stupid?
or maybe it's that, I'm the cupid
of problems and lucidity,
which explains my stupidity.

The ink in my pen let's me
leave you out, my darkness.
You do dark the prison for me,
I can't be more grateful, my darkness!

A murderer I am,
as  I covered the dark balm
of blood on my lamp
the lamp I was and, I am.

I don't know if you still care, dark.
There's nothing you lack,
I guess you don't miss
the things that were amiss.

Dark - my dreary shark
with, deepening incisors
you summon me, to be the scissors
of my darkness, my dark!

There was a handmade cake on my table
and a letter with immature hand:

I start with this
but know that
whenever and wherever I bake a cake
you'll be in my mind.

It tasted not that sweet
I remember
and she was never to make another
in my corners of bitter December.

I have no other Christmas memory.

There couldn't be.