Stuck inside my mind,
trying to find what it's worth.

I tore apart my heart,
just to see if it would hurt.

Analogies and metaphors never seem to help,
because the only one who doesn't understand them is myself.

I know you can SEE me, go ahead and take a look. I know that you can read me, I am an open book. That just so happens to get put back on the shelf. Never asked to get pushed, I don't need your help. I'm perfectly capable of destroying myself with my guns blazing and my lungs screaming. Ready to **** any demon that's facing me so I can, basically, make for me, a little place to be slightly above average. Everyone has baggage, but I have more than an airport and train station combined. That's why I'm make-shifting mine into something like music, that's obviously for you ears. If only you could hear half as well as you can SEE
No sweat. It's not like I expect to win this bet. But, I'm still playing my cards. Because once upon a time the moon and Mars along with the stars could have been ours. But scabs turn to scars after just a few bars. Depressed and broke I looked upstairs and spoke

"I have holes in my boxers and even more in my socks, sir. And this grey sky above is killing my sense of love. I'll put all my issues in these shoes, then on top of you. Just so I can prove the sky isn't blue, we've all been lied to."


Why do you keep running through my mind? Can we slow down and walk? Can we sit down and talk? Or are you, too, eager to become a believer?
"Maybe she's a deceiver come to steal away your leisure and keep it beneath her."

What if she's neither?

I prepared for the fight of my life. Until she held me and began to tell me...

"Tony, I'm more impressed by your tattoos than your battle wounds. Now lock away the sad in you, I came here just to rattle you and drag a smile out of you."

I replied "Hopes and tries with wide open eyes disguise the demise that hides behind the lies to the who's? The what's? The when, where's and why's."
But not the how's.
Those are in the clouds floating through your house, made of the cigarette smoke that falls out the love-hole you call a mouth. What the hell are these halls about? There's hardly any room for rooms. So it is safe to assume the broom can't go in the closet. That's my skeleton deposit, or whatever you call it.
Like I'm in a cage at a rave, I'm a rage-aholic. I love this book but find this page, appalling. I'm uncertain if I should turn it, or burn it. What if when I learn it I find the verdict disturbing?

Merely retreated, I have yet to be defeated. Maybe one day I will actually be able to slay the demons I keep at bay, like I do with all the ones that stand in my way. Face them, no fear. No one stands here, except me.

I am the ruler,
I am the king

I can outright out write any song you can sing. Pulling my pen out of my pocket, I'm unsheathing my sword because I've felt this feeling before.
Like your favorite guitar player reaching the cord that gets you every time like it snuck from behind.
I grabbed my book of rhymes and began to climb out my own grave, so I might be home late. Don't bother to wait up, I promise I'll save us.
Even though it burdens me like a thousand times of gravity,
there is not a place I'd rather be.
But, actually, I'm slightly sad to see that you're automatically having me ecstatically jumping out my seat. What this means, is my dreams are pushed out the slip stream and then it seems to have ripped seams like some chick's jeans.
I can't have that.
So how about you stand back? I'm going to need room to drop bombs...
BOOM
In this mind of mine that you can call a tomb, your face is barely seen like the moon at noon.
Your voice still haunt me, though I'll fix that soon.

Stuck inside my mind,
couldn't find what it's worth.

Tore apart my heart,
and it didn't even hurt.

Analogies and metaphors never seem to help,
because the only who doesn't understand them is myself.

you keep an eye up to the heavens
but you don't ever look for God
and if we talk about religion
all you do is shake a nod.
If I told you my religion
is the presence that I feel
and that my mind is on the earthly
then that **** is on the real.
No book for definition
right is right, wrong is wrong
that's inherent knowledge
and you've known it all along.

you must love thy neighbor
sounds like love me as thy friend
and if we can't love each other
then there's nothing but the end.
our faces may look different
our voices HIGH and LOW
but in our veins there's blue blood
that turns red upon the flow
in our lungs there's freedom
but we just call it speech
peace is not a movement
but a goal that we must reach.

The moon illuminates the tears she sheds as the darkness shields her from this reality.
She opened the portal to her fantasy world and the memories she once hid, finally reappears.
His ability to make her chocolate frame quiver into the palm of his hand just by whispering those 3 words.
The way his alluring eyes would caress and soothe her soul to force her to disclose its hidden secrets.
"Do you mean it?" She quietly whispered into his ears as their essence finally merged into existence.
He was able to tear down her layers of pain, confusion, and hurt as he crossed the threshold into her mind.  
As she gazes into his ravishing eyes, she becomes paralyzed as they undress her bare petite physique.
The gateway to her hidden domain steadily closes as the warmth rays rest upon her dried tears.
Her tear stricken face clenches onto the dwindling memories of his dominance over her.
If only he kept to his word, then he would have understood her tears of affection.

The skies are clear, between these ears.
Days turn to minutes, while months turn to years.

I'm set in stone,
how are you still molding your clay?
Don't look at me that way.
I take on your whole week in just one day.

So take shots and smoke ***, rather then not.
Simply forgot or just part of the plot?

Does the sleeve hold an ace or just empty space?
Whatever he's got, it seems like a lot
of riddles and

trickery.

I'll spit this heat until you're sick of me.
You're every bit of free so sit and see
how quickly we can be
each other's enemy.

With no help or aid
the trembling lending hand is afraid.
Would you have stayed?
If things were taken to the grave
instead of put on display
like they're cut into a high top fade

Powerful or powerless
carefully creeping
with a slithering prowess.
Don't tell the cowards.
Because.

They will sacrifice hours
To take what's ours

I tried to whisper your name yesterday,
but all I could do was scream.
I tried to remember your face,
but all I could do was *dream

I bet she loves the Moon
just a little more than the Sun
because without the Moon there's no eclipse
to kiss the sky as one.
Casting stars in daylight hours
like the enigma of a dream
her shadow bleeds onto the concrete
blooming a rose, bursting through a seam.
The poems written on her expressions
guide the inspiration through my pen
close my eyes and pages later
imagination's exploded on a whim.
I bet the Sun loves the Moon
just a little more than himself
because without her to reflect his light
he'd be alone, nothing in itself.