Its been weeks and still there isn't a moment i escape your memory.

I tried the bottle and it only made me find the depths of emptiness that dwell within my soul.

I know my life has come  to its closing moments I watch it fade a sunsets reprise sitting upon the sandy shore .

I no longer give a **** to fight I wish only to allow the tide to consume what is left and nothing more .

We are all bunt out buildings from the wars waged upon ourselves .

Now let the dark waters give rest where torment once stood on full display.

I am tired beyond my years no longer content to simply exist were once I rode the wind .

My choices are but my own never try to follow another footsteps for there shadows cast will freeze you out in there ego's nature by design.

There is no more lines left .
The ink as blood no longer does course through my veins.

I'm simply waiting on the tide to take what's left away.

The day is drawing near
and every year it comes around
every year
the flashbacks saturate every
dark corner of my mind
I've written
and written
and written
about that night so many times
that I can't stand to anymore
you know what happened in that room
and so do I
but now there's someone new
someone who looks at me
and doesn't see your hand prints
on my skin
who doesn't know
that years later
I still carry the weight of that night
on my chest
it sits there while I sleep
counting my breaths
permeating my dreams
enveloping every empty thought
with an unwelcomed thought
of you
I've got so many skeletons
and I would love to say
that they're all buried beneath the dirt
of time
but they aren't
sometimes
they slip out from the closet
and sit right beside me
sometimes
they hold my hand
and sometimes
like today
they crawl inside my skin
and make themselves
at home

Does the time make us fools or simply were we always so to begin with .
Sketches faded now remain a ghost that haunts only the artist and nobody else.

The clock strikes midnight, but time stands still in this illusion of borrowed hours

Will there be a moments peace within the turmoil which ever lingers upon this day
The hours are toxic to a idle mind.

Falling in a routine and a favorite vice the blade still glimmers even after all its use .

We always find misery easily where others just themselves.

Voices speak to me of freedom
But freedom is not something I desire
I beg and plead with you
But hell
what do you care
I'm lost
But don't treat me like a fool
A fools freedom in your smile
Is not freedom at all

As I walk now past empty gardens that once knew life of summers embrace .

Winters chill is a empty ended promise .
Now simply scorched is the earth that does remain.

The clock upon the wall simply keeps time we only hold memories and nothing more


Life has been a listless game of joys and sorrows
I've spent my joys too quickly and they nowadays spread themselves thin upon the stage which is my life
Sorrowful me that lingers on the edge of reason
May reason be the saving of my  sanity and not its end

I thought terribly hard of all the things

I wanted to say in the spaces of your time and mine

my heart rushes ahead of all the things I want to type out and

the time spent crafting my life journey

pathetic as it was

sad and stupid as it was

in the memory of my life

I dedicate it to myself

as something I deserve to have done for myself

not subjecting anyone else to my whining

my feeling sorry for myself and

trying to escape this feeling sorry,

feeling bad for and about

myself





this was my act of selfishness-

one of many I must admit-

however there is something to be said

about taking out for no one

but myself

and in a heartbeat, my life,

continues



no-one needs judge

this is my ode to myself

time was spent
writing and in that
I thought
it's been a while



I was counting down the years
looking at my fingers
two hands not enough to contain
all of it



a palm full of life
two palms full of life
three... and
(well, I'd reverse or continue
but my age
should remain a secret)

but after so many handfuls
there were some more
maybe too many
maybe not much or perhaps
were there any?



some palmfuls of life
and I realize
that maybe I need to
be a little kinder



looking past the now
remaining stuck in fear
fear of what may come
what may be said



I realize that is not good
not healthy
and I wish that above all else
I regain my strength to live
as fully as I wish
as fully as I want to be remembered



but it is hard
and I know it takes time patience skill
to bring everything I have
up to the standard I want to reach



so I stay clustered in my room
preparing myself
rejuvenating myself
re-motivating myself
to try
be better than who I am



apparently motivation is like showering
so it's something that needs to be pursued
not done once and forgotten forever

all i wanted was to lie in a pool of sunshine
so hot i could barely breathe, dream or think
ripping them away like crunchy autumn leaves
falling from trees in gusts of strong winds
i wanted to be engulfed in a hot pool
so hot i have difficulty breathing
and my clothes get covered in sweat
this uncomfortable heat and brightness
cruel in its desensitization but also
a mercy for my brain which churns and pivots
bouncing around thoughts and dreams which
make me wish for sleep and then hate sleep
wish i could run run and lie in pools of
molten sunshine burning my skin to the bones
so i can perhaps breathe for five minutes
without a weight on my chest
a crick in my neck tightness in my back
surprising liquid on my face
where does it come from?
what is its purpose?
where does it go?
all evaporate in this stupid pool of garbage
sunshine and i

i can pretend my heart does not beat blood
my presence matters
i am not sad
not contemplating numerous ways to die
in the spaces between my thoughts and dreams
in my thoughts and dreams

i remember and i forget hoping

hope kills and love dies
belief lies and relationships burn
a hollowness a cavity

there is sadness and there is a rhythm
but i
do not remember the paths i tread
following these endless roads to that rhythm
i once had
where is it now?
what is its purpose?
where does it go?

i lie in embarassment and bashfulness
dance around to pretend that love never dies
relationships soothe and hope survives

but in that pool of sunshine
half-truths and half-lies
concepts of gray do not exist in
pure bright white blue
hotness
so i wanted to burn for a bit
let my bones get some air
so my tears can evaporate
the moment they escape
so i can continue saying
my heart does not feel
my heart does not exist