I stare out into a Bob Ross painted sky, drifting in and out of a black and white dream
Watching colors fade away and appear as I open my eyes, the scenes played out in front of me challenge my beliefs
I get lost in the shadows of an evil that seems to dwell, it's trapped too deep inside me to hope for anything
Like a movie playing, I can't seem to tell, which character is the most related to me
I'm an on and off switch trapped in a tornado warning of emotions I can't begin to understand
Stuck between two paralleling lines I can no longer command
I couldn't tell you how fast I'm going or if I'm even really here
And as the paint drys on my life, an unfinished product is my only fear

I don't belong to you.
I belong to the world.
I am of the essence of the stars.
I am meant to be free,
to be wild,
and to run with the hunted.

do you think you'll ever lay her to rest?
allow her to sleep?
she's stayed awake for months on end
and every time she tried to close her eyes
you shook her awake
again

telling just one more tale
one more tall story
one more lie
that we must all
simply listen to

listen to this little ditty
i'm sure you'll recall it
once i'm done
do you remember the time we...?
no.. not really..

without sleep
all she sees are hallucinations
disjointed recollections
of the tissue paper life
that blows..

in the breeze

did you know
sleep deprivation
is a form of torture?

and you have kept her up
long enough

and she's tired of being worn
like an overcoat
as your splendid outer garment
in all it's melancholy finery
passersby remark
on how well you wear her
and you have the audacity to say
'Oh this old thing'

she's wearing thin and eventually
she'll disappear
altogether

she's becoming threadbare in places
and no matter how tightly
you wrap yourself up in her
she won't keep you warm

but that's only because
you don't want her to get warm
or let her go to sleep
you just won't let her rest in peace
will you

I lift my head to look at
you but you were
already looking at me

I like my poetry
Like I like my coffee
Unlike most,
I prefer it strong
And heavy

I don’t mind it rushed,
What I really want it to empower
Is the sweet bitterness
That’ll keep me up for hours

How’re you to live
Without a little contemplation
A bitter drink
To match how you think
About the world and its desperation

Its desire to acquire
A meaning higher than is truthful
Since the only rectifier
For all of the gunfire
Is that we remain faithful…

“Faithful”

Faithful to shadows
That we hope to be
More than more than just a domino
From long ago
Toppling into tomorrow

But even so
Truly, we know
We cannot hope to be
More than the smallest
Ripple in the sea

There’s nothing more than what we see
Despite what we wish would be
There for us now and when we
Leave this place

In all of space
We’re merely dust
Upon dust
No conceited reason
Behind every season

No, that’s just the world’s childish desperation
To see more behind each rotation
Of God’s “divine” creation

Since, truly, there can be no rectifier
For all of the gunfire
And despite how I think I may desire
This blessed ignorance of faithfulness
What I value more is truthfulness

And what it’s telling me
(Thanks somewhat, perhaps, to the coffee)
Is that our best intentions
Will not result in intervention
But in blind destruction
Thanks to humanity’s corruption.

…A bitter drink
To match how I think
About the world and its desperation.

I'm having doubts again. See, I don't last very long with a good thing before I overthink and over analyze and over anticipate and overwhelm and suddenly it's a poison that's eating me alive. I felt alive and that was all that mattered, feeling love and loved at last, after time and time again where my heart and brain teamed up to destroy my iridescent hope and it was so good that I didn't even see the flaws, looked through them like glass. Except now, his glass is half empty-- but only for a split second before its half full and then totally full-- and he's not a mean drunk but he drinks so ******* much that it makes me sick and I'm sick of my own hypocrisy because God knows I drink more than I should but I'm not throwing my life away with every shot. I know we have a shot at fixing our problems before I let this love spiral down the drain but I just can't seem to make it out alive because self sabotage is so much easier. Maybe I should stop looking around, maybe I should wear blinders when I walk so I don't see potential replacements with "no flaws" and of course I know they're all flawed but... But... I didn't lose my train of thought I lost my conscience because how can I look elsewhere? I spent so much time wishing I would be loved back and now that I am I want nothing more than the freedom of watching a different back walk out my door whenever I want. It's just a real chin-scratcher, how on one hand I want forever with him-- his drinking problem and his floppy hair and his long distance and his standoffish-ness-- but on the other I want out.