Just you and me, babydoll
in the back of the death trap
in front of the passenger train
in-between your rock and my hard place.

Ribcage like the basement heater,
you're really just the worst side
of paradise, pressing your
unreliable heat on my chest.

Whiskey and wine, baby mine,
don't taste nearly so good as when
I can lick the drops off your chin,
fearing I've ruined your chances.

'Cause you touched me, y'know,
me, the heaviest hand to hold, the
most hopeless burden to carry, and
I've never made it any easier for you.

I ain't a poet, really, just a man who
forgets what he's gotta say. Maybe one
day, when we're old and bitter and eating
our dust, you'll read between the lines.

People are quite similar, different but similar. What can happen once, can happen twice. What can happen twice can happen over and over. There's no anomaly in this sense. What I feel is happening all over the world. Perhaps, I've gotten good at spotting fake smiles because when one wears one, one learns to spot one. Check the eyes. The smile is on the mouth yet absent from the eyes. I seek for what is missing. So I study others to find my missing puzzle piece. A trial and error, for I find myself chasing the joy others are having. But after awhile, I realize that I'm just different. I react differently to stimulus provided by life. I realize that I'm stronger than how I once believed, those days I lay alone too exhausted that death sounds appealing. But to lay down with tears, I realize it's not over yet. So I look foolish and get up after thinking I couldn't take anymore. I keep walking. My desires are misleading and failure is common, but I walk anyway. And maybe it's a desire I have.. the possibility that things will get better.

People are social, they love to talk. Doesn't matter with who, even with those they dislike. Could it be to feed a need? The chocolate of social activity? I don't specialize in keeping small talk, nor a fan of it. I often hear people talk about the importance of eating and drinking well, the way of a healthy lifestyle. But shouldn't there be a class about talking well? There are naturals, but for me it's not the same. The mimickers, those who emulate the behaviour and those who do it on instinct. I, upset the balance because of my ways.

People see me and expect me to be something great. I upset their expectation and cause disappointment. I'm familiar with the term. What seems to be a long term game.

People are like fruits, I was told. *Feed them well with what they need and they'll grow ripe and well.

I tried this person on some time ago
And she stuck
I’ve been fighting every since
to get her off
To remove her skin from my bones
Her darkness from my mind
Her tears from my eyes
But it all seems at bit lodged
And the more I struggle
The tighter she holds on

You always preached
about burning bridges.
Voice laced with warning.
But here I stand.
A handful of matches
and gasoline.
With my chin held
high.
Ready to reduce you
to ash.

i'm the reason
you ran so far
from god but
i don't think he
was ever here to
start because
you wore a cross
around your neck
and it never meant
a thing when you
had me tangled
in your sheets

and i don't care where
i end up after this life
because you left me
in a state of hell the
second you said
hurting me meant
nothing when the
only forgiveness
you need is given
by someone
i can't see.

-k.w//i can't remember the last time i saw god