I’m psychosexual
But somehow
A hyper-intellectual
It’s like a festival
All up in my mind

Fueled by love, lust, rage, maybe hate
Lysergic acid
Diethylamide
Hopeless dreams and psilocybe

I would entice you
To look inside
But I’d fear for your sanity
It’s no place for the blind

I once thought of ending it
Closing the blinds
On a cold winters eve
In the dead of night

The bottle in my hand
I broke the glass
No liquid came out
I was drunk off my ***

This was how I was
Or perhaps how I am
I question everyday
If this was part of the plan

Cuts all up my arm
I’ve always said self-harm
Was for the weak and twisted
With their minds tangled like yarn

But now I see truth
I’m an agnostic
All I need was proof
I’m a concrete home with no roof

I’m a writer, a brother
A musician and a lover
I’m a man and a boy
An old soul that never knew joy

She was momma’s little angel
Starry eyed with her dreams
Turned *******
******* randoms for the fiend

A hopeless romantic
His heart sealed up hermetically
He strung himself up when she spat out
“You’re pathetic”, apathetically

What a broken society
It’s the norm to suffer
It’s a personality flaw
To give a **** about another

This is why I’m insane
You see why I’m a ******* ******?
Always getting caught up screaming
“I’m just trying to do the right thing, you know?”

A semi-****** voice
I’m perpetually trying to shut up
Showing compassion for others
Only made me an altruistic ****-up

So now you see
What happens when you read in-between
These are my minds insides
I hope they made you scream

But I only brought you to the doorstep
Would you dare to step in?
All I can tell you is
I never made it out

There are true monsters within

Little Dummy sang alone
But Little Dummy
Could carry a tone

Nobody out there
Would ever care
If Little Dummy
Was here or there

Because Little Dummy couldn't read
He could never grasp how
Worth was printed on a sheet

To pass or fail
How asinine?
So Little Dummy
Was left behind

Without a glance
Or care from the world
Little Dummy
Put to rest his soul

His beauty never seen
By a thoughtless society
Little Dummy
Would never again sing

A sonnet to my sins
Hopeful hopelessness
Akin to Les Mis

Hypocrisy thy name is
Was I really a drunk?
A toss-away punk, caught up in the funk?

Barreling down the asphalt human landing strip
Looking back but seeing nothing behind
Self replicating machine elves on the mind

Give in
Drop out
Tune in
Hypocrisy thy name is

To be in love is a commodity, a luxury.

It is not necessary to be subservient to another, nor is it convenient.
Only fleetingly pleasurable.

Immensely so, perhaps the greatest indulgence conceived, but costly still.
Happiness is not defined by it.

To know when to allow yourself the privilege and when to let go is to be comfortable and confident in self, to allow affection to be a necessity is to be an addict, in the most mundane of ways.

Testament of a cynic.

Battle cry of the hopeful