When my day is dull
And my eyes are red
When I close my eyes
To put my thoughts to rest
I see two lovers
Spent down in love
Drenched in sweat
Unchained from fear
When my mind recalls
The bliss we carved

I press your love letters
To my lonely chest
Kiss each word of it
To feel what we left

Each word of it
Charms my ears
Like a crescando tune
Every passing letter
My emotions tweak
My heart it *****
Like a bird uncooped
Or a drunk on *****
When my mind recalls
The bliss we carved

I press your love letters
To my lonely chest
I wish the time reversed
To recover what we left

Stars shining at my crying canvas
As I stare at the endless epitome
of imagination… I wonder.
What discoveries it beholds me?
What should I do with it?
Who do I trust, and do I trust myself?
Crying Canvas, a Face, showing the world mystery.
As I look at this life…
Who do I allow, who do I let go…
Crying Canvas, a face that cries at night.

I look up into the clear sky
The tears run like liquid crystals down my face
Because of this the angels cry
Because I have this life to waste

The frost and snowflakes bites me
The beauty of their faces clear
The loveliness is just to spite me
And they run down, they turn to ice; my tears

I see red all around me
What is this, what is sounding?
Why does the blood run down from my eyes?
Is that why I did? Did I cry?

Through the window I see
I see your face, full of longing,
Fingers reaching out like a tree
But we can never reach

What is that I see in the mirror?
Is that I? In the reflection?
Why do I look like I am dead?
Because I am being cut apart, section by section...

Is this the time, or is it too late?
Should I choose to stay or choose to jump?
For living in a world with all this hate
Can make a person want to die

I have feelings too, you know
I may always talk in monotone
But look more closely, for it is a mask
The only reason that I do not tell...is not one cares enough to ask

The fire in my heart,
It has long gone out
The twists, the blood, the veins, they are like art
Every heartbeat is just a-shout, a-shout, a-shout

I reach in the dark
I long for some light,
For what is the point of being,
If you have to live in fright?

She would feel the ice creeping, growing in her chest
And soon, she knew, she would ever rest
But there was one last thing she had to do
She had to say goodbye, I love you too

And then, the angels said,
The poor girl perished into the land of dead
For all of it she could take no more
And there she shall wait, forevermore

I long for the life I've only seen,
In picture books and magazines.

Great fades to gray
where commonplace turns to decay
where the abnormal becomes negatively neurological
which leads to the ingestion of government sector sedatives
and we wonder why segregation of brain and mind is prominent
promises never kept and mind that never gets better
but before we fix the broken we must make you broke.
Objects in the mirror to fit society's standards
E news, TMZ, fox- all the new cancer.
Throw your money at it
make it go away
and watch in awe as the auction of your autonomy accelerates-
your mind is money to the highest bidder
and they don't budge when they watch your wallet quiver.
Quiet in the courtroom-
little Kyle's got a drug charge
searched his car without consent
convict at the age of sixteen
which is sickening to see.
Kyle was just depressed and needed a little THC
the only thing that would help him with social anxiety
and now he's facing a charge for not taking the meds
marijuana manipulation of the municipals
and now little kyle won't be able to go to a good school
18 the record will be swiped clean
but the debt of the courtroom creeps into his credit.
Society's white lies will tell you you'll be fine
debt from the courtroom turn to slanging dope-
dealing with depression while dealing in possession
pulled over, twice moreover propaganda's progression.
They feed us the same lies we go out of our way to buy-
news channels, channeling bias views for more views
sitting idly by as our lives pass through
changing channels as we become the chattel
slaves to our own brain waves from the manipulation
we love to bow down to this free nation
led by puppets- controlled by intimidation tactics.  
It's just backwards, the backbone of the nation doesn't have one
Columbine happened because little Kyle could get a gun, run-
repeat until it's done, dictating your discrimination
it's fun until everyone has to run away from the shooter.
Bangs heard throughout the world
talk of how his head was on backwards smoking on these backwoods
But he was off the marijuana and on the medicine-
FDA approved turned into a bullet to the head.
BANG.
Sinister structure of society-
**** america why did you have to lie to me.

I am making my trip and in the backseat of mine...
There's this kid,
This child.
This infant thought coddling along this journey with me in a baby seat would be all we ever wanted to be.

Safely I arrive with that child in mind...
Full of questions with with answers that take time from the hands of life in his story.
He sees the door all too sure that we arrived at the same place in time the destinations signs said the navigation should find.

Still in the backseat of mine...
This child,
This kid walks.
NO! Crawls.
Right and left.
Forth and back

Asking the question why?
A query so simple if he only new the answer would take some time .