Their screams of terror
Their cries for help
Their weeps of sorrow
Their the voices in my head

They have grown so old
They have become so loud
Now they echo all day long
I just wish for them to gro silent

The voices in my head
Grow more and more reckless
That I can't even think
Of the consequences to my actions

But no matter what they say or how they say it
They love you just as mush as me
Yet you dont see the love in my eyes
And you cant hear the songs that they sing

The voices in my head
Maybe sweet and comforting
But most of the time
Their sick, demented, and twisted

They argue over whether or not I should
Put a gun to my head
And all but one agrees
For me to pull the trigger

That one voice who cares
If I pull the trigger
Is the voice of reason
It's your beautful voice

The voices in my head
Are they wrong for wanting me dead
Are they right for causing my insanity
All I know is that I can trust them

Every second of my time
I spend listening to their screams
Their cries and their weeps
I realize why they do it

The voices in my head
Echo my pain
Because they know it
And know my demons

The voices in my head
Have never seen my heart
Yet they know the truth to my lies
And the tears not in my eyes

Of all these voices
Yours is the loudest
Causing me to put this gun down
And think of a better way to end it all

The voices in my head
Tell me you the only one
I can and will ever love
And the only one I can't hurt

But I feel as if
The voices in my head
Want me to be hurt
Due to the pain I have dealt

I beg of them to stop
And let me live on my own
To die on my own terms
But they continue on

Then I begin to notice
That all these voices
Are the voices of those I have hurt
Except your one voice of reason

Could it be
That all the pain
Not only my own
But the pain of others
Is the reason to the voices in my head

The voices in my head
Laugh as I piece together
A puzzle to bid to understand
A puzzle not meant to be pieced together

The voices in my head
Grow louder and louder
Even as I fight with them
I realize why I write about war
Because the biggest war is with myself

As I reach for the gun
To end their eerie laughs
I know it will bring satisfaction
So I load and **** it back
Squeezing the trigger slowly

Darkness engulfs me
The voices stop
Peace I don't have
As tears roll down your cheek
Another life I have wasted along with mine

Cleavage,  Oh, what wounder!
Full and Round!
Soft and ****!

Like a bouquet of flowers!
Fregrant & beautful,
meant to be admired.

Properly displayed,
In color and lace,
So wounderfully feminine!

A cavern of love,
She captures my attention,
And releases my desire.

Add just a smile!
Even a hint of one,
a powerful potion is revealed.
Cleavage with a Smile!

A great and powerful man,
under her **** spell.
hoplessly mesmerized,
by Cleavage with a Smile.

Don't look away!
Don't be offended!
be kind, add a smile.
Cleavage With a Smile!

Just like a rose the queen of beauty,
your face is more than pretty,
the paragon of all animals,
what else can be more beautiful than your face,
why cant a bee fly over your face,
cos l think you are more of beautiful than living flowers.

Broken glass on the floor.
What once was something beautiful
Now shattered into tiny pieces.  

Broken hearts everywhere
What once was a person,
Now shattered into tiny fragments.

What becomes of these pieces,
Can they ever be beautful again.

Some questions have no answers,
Some events have no reasons.

Whatever happens, happens.

insides dead,
driftwood emotions,
oceans of regret.
swept under the waves.
Betterdays,
in the horizon.
Hard to find them
in the abyss
of bad habits
that i’ve inhabited.
Agoraphobic,
closed off,
like a treacherous day.
Doors locked,
subdued,
constant moods,
brooding storms in submarines,
under the weather
&
under the sea.
show me the coral reef,
of beautful feelings,
and creatures,
the features of life.
Evade me by day,
and escape me at night.
i can’t fathom the colloquial,
of the same old ****.
i’m down with my nothing,
and i’ll sink with the ship.

My mind is longing for love
A love my heart just found
Words will not describe
The emotions I feel inside
When we are together
I need to hold you close
Heart to mind, or lips to lips
I love your smile,
your **** charm,
your valiant walk

All these things sets alarm
To each day I walk alone
No one can fill my heart . . . your home
I think about you all **** day
But mostly when I lie awake
I never dreamt much in the past
Now I do and its for you
I will stand by your side
Through thick and all
To see that gorgeous smile
That always makes me fall
When you think you have nothing left
I SWEAR to you, I'll be left
Your gentle lips and your beautful glow
An angel I have, from head to toe
I know these words
My heart has shown
To you I vow these words alone.
To: Francisco

January- Her toes were chilly just like the trees in her front yard. She had never known what happiness was & she still hadn't found the answers (especially not in me), yet the love for the similarities of december compared to this beautful month was similar into the way that she loved food but hated to eat; she loved the way her glasses looked on her, & how perfect the dimples on her face felt in the sunlight, & every song that I ever wrote for her, & the way I make long lists about all the ways she was beautiful to me.
She loved all of these things, but never me.

February- the clouds always looked over her like a big brother & always told me when she was in need of one of my helpful conversations consisting of me expressing all the reasons why she is so important to this world & that nobody would be who they are today if it wasn't for her birth & her substantial impact on people's outlook on life. She hated the way everyone would fall for her like leaves in september & she would always feel bad for b(rake)ing leaves & hearts that weren't hers to b(rake) in the first place. She was most magnificent when she was upset, the passion, the sadness, the fear, it was all just beauty in its purest form.

March- This was her favorite month, because it was so spontaneous and unexpected just like her;
one day it's raining
& the next day a cloudless day where we're sunbathing in my living room,
& even the next day is a harsh winter with a spice of sun added to the whole recipe.
One day she was dressed up & happy,
the next day she could be dressed down & apathetic towards life (& especially me),
& even the next day she did her make-up but not her hair & she actually manages to put socks on but they aren't matching (& she hates not matching, maybe that's why I never match my socks anymore) & her mood has a hint of attitude with a spice of sarcasm, & I love every single second of it. Becasue life is like the month of march, you never know whether she's going to love you or not.

April- This isn't a good month for her, she's behind in all of her classes because of her job & life at home & she's scared of everything. It's sunny & windy half of the time, & rainy the rest of the time. She hates the rain because it ruins her hair & reminds her of why her mom isn't in her life anymore & the fact that she'll never forgive her dad for that. On the extra rainy days she didn't go to school & on the sunniest days she sat inside catching up on all of her missing school work. To her, april was like the world we live in, absolutely horrific.

May- the color was riveting; the skies were as glossy as her eyes after a short nap, & she had just finished reading her new favorite book. Love was short tempered this time of year, but at this point i'm used to it. Lovely May couldn't have come at a better time though, because lasting love never lasts & everyone knows that. She has just told me that she is slowly falling for me, & this is unusual to me because i'm usually the leaf that is falling to my inescapable death, not the other way around. But the way the goosebumps on her arm looked & the way her lip quivered was so unbelievably beautiful as she was telling me that she's loved my childish humor & stupid stories for quite some time now, but has finally decided to let herself love me instead of drenching her affection for me in sarcasm & rudeness. I am finally loved & i'm not sure if I can stand up without thinking about her kissing me & how am I supposed to go to sleep when I could be holding her instead. Lovely May couldn't have come at a better time.

June- Sweat. Sweat. Sweat. Sweat. Not because of the sun either, but because her body against mine was a sauna & the way we looked at eachother put a shame to the way the sun looks at the moon. We were explorers of the human body & our first trial had taken place with eachother. We have never been outside of our city so we decided that we would travel the world together, through each other's stories, body movements & wandering souls. I had seen pictures before of the great ranges & valleys that are so beautiful, it's a shame that all they'll ever be are just valleys; but nobody prepared me for her smile,
& the way she laughs when I pick her up & spin her around in public places,
& that strapless dress that she loves to wear,
& especially the way she tells me that i'm perfect & actually means it.
Nobody prepared me to actually want to keep on living.

July- the heat was at an all-time high whether it had been between our agruments, or the sun cooking down on us like eggs on a sidewalk. Maybe the temperature had something to do with her mood swings or maybe it was just her realizing that I wasn't as perfect as she thought I was. I can't tell you I didn't expect this though, no one in my life had ever stayed longer than a few years, whether it was because of my overly direct opinions, or my waves of jealousy, or my (meaningless) indirect insults; whatever the case was I didn't expect much from anyone nowadays, & the strangely beautiful thing about it was, neither did she.

August- I can't really say very much about what happened this month except her hair blowing in the wind is more heartwarming than any cup of hot cocoa & the way she broke my heart with just her eyes will forever haunt my cloudless dreams.

September- Just like the month of september, she finally settled into a pair of warm, comforting arms; but those arms were definitely not attached to my body & the month of september definitely wasn't sad just to accompany my mood, it was sad at the fact that the world is slowly falling in love february & losing interest in all summer related festivities; this is how I felt, she was slowly falling in love with the rainforest & I am just a single tree.

October- She would still call me every now & then, but only when her & her new boy toy were having relationship problems or when she had a bit too much to drink.
"I made a mistake." "I love you." "I want you back." "I miss you so much."; the sentences evacuated her mouth like water falling from a cliff & could have easily exterminated every cell in my body had I not hung up before I could hear the end of it.
I loved her & I wanted her more than I wanted to see the sky each morning, but I knew she didn't mean anything that she was saying in those insignificant, yet crucial moments; I knew she didn't love me, she loved the idea of never having to be alone.
I was pretty sure october was coming to an end soon, but honestly, I didn't even keep track of the days anymore, I didn't keep track of anything anymore.

November- winter is just around the corner & I haven't  heard from her in a week of two.
I think she's happy now.
I hope she's happy now.
Even if i'm not, I hope she is.

December- I realized that no matter how cold the weather gets, her heart will always be much more colder, sinking to temperatures a small child would have nightmares about.
I finally have come to terms with the fact that she isn't coming back;
just like the leaves,
just like the sun,
just like time,
she's gone.

My heart


                         Once a caterpillar


Not yet grown

                      
                             But once it knew

Love


                           It grew


To be


                             A beautful butterfly


Fluttering



                           And fluttering


On it's way



                            Straight to you.

Something feels wrong about this
About you now
24 hours can change the world
Can change everything
Twice
Three times even
I miss being stable
I miss wen things were always the same
And I never had to think about tomorrow
You were so beautful to me yesterday
And maybe you will be once I see your face again
But for now
I'm scared of the changes
I'm scared because I cannot control anything about or around me
I want everything to be the way it was when I was little
Everything was juice boxes and scraped knees and laughing
Now everything is dfferent

throw me down on your holy altar,
bleed me now and do not falter.
For this sin i dare to witness,
tears me to this deepest bitterness.

If its a crime to feel this passion,
why strip it away with no compassion?
for if its an affliction we are born to bare,
can blame be placed on those and them that share?

i ask you voice thats never there,
shall i leave another message on your holy chair,
to not preach salvation.
to those you offer no advocation.

or should i like you turn away,
let those blinded fools keep their ways,
and whisper onto empty ears,
for reality does nowt but bring their fears.

We have sat outside your perfection,
and survived and lived in moderate affection.
from others you've shunned and burned,
oh how my faithful fools the tides have turned!

So witness the great and beautful karma,
that  mocks and riddicules your holy father.
condemn who you will to a fictional horror,
and leave us blissful in our faithless squalor!

The trees were talking in foreign tongues,
The leaves had plenty to say,
As he stood deep in the golden grove
Watching the treetops sway.
A gentle breeze had caught at their breath
To carry their whispered tales,
From tree to tree in the woodland depth
While the Autumn winds prevailed.

And golden leaves lay thick at their feet
A magic carpet of death,
Fluttering down with their lives complete
At the time of their final breath.
But she lay still on a mound of leaves
And smiled at the man she loved,
While he looked up like a man who grieves
At the sway of the trees above.

‘Why is the Autumn fall so sad,
Could it be that they feel like us?
Their Summer went, and at last they’re spent
And fall from the trees like dross.’
‘They’ve had their season of love,’ she sighed,
‘While ours is still ahead,’
‘But even we,’ he had then replied,
‘Face the day when we’ll both be dead.’

He joined her down on the bed of leaves
And she kissed his lips and his brow,
‘I never think about death,’ she said,
‘But only the here and now.’
‘Don’t you listen to what’s been said,
Those fluttering leaves in the air,
They’re asking, what’s it like to be dead
In a tone of utter despair.’

‘How could you know just what they say,
They’re swaying trees in the breeze,
There isn’t a dictionary, per se,
That a man can follow with ease.’
‘Haven’t you heard the tender moan
They make, when the wind soughs through,
Their sadness echoes in every tone
And it kills me, looking at you.’

‘You have to stop, you’re frightening me,’
She said as she pulled away,
‘I thought that we came to make sweet love
On a beautful Autumn day.’
‘But what will we think when our skin is dry,
And wrinkled, so many years,
Maybe the love that we feel today
Will lie in a horse-drawn hearse.’

He looked again and he watched her age
So brittle, an Autumn leaf,
Dry and brown, he was looking down
While she stared with eyes of grief.
‘You’ve taken away our springtime, Joe,
And reached for the Autumn rain,
I only know that I have to go
And I’ll not come here again!’

David Lewis Paget