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lance Oct 2019
every night i sleep,
on a bed of a thousand lies.

i breathe in the oxygen,
that poisons all my thoughts.

what frightens me most,
is the simple fact that,
getting over me;

was so easy for you.
lance Oct 2019
we’re so destined to live,
cause there’s always an end—

but no again.
lance Sep 2019
From the very first drag,
of newly lit sorrow,
it seemed to heal,
all my wounds.

It burned like heart break,
and died like the moon,
when the sun wakes up,
and lights my whole room.

I miss the night—
A free of charge silent treatment,
I really didn’t mind.
Because I was alone very frequent.

Nineteen-some later,
my lungs wore a frown,
I did this to cope,
when i felt nothing but down.

Say what you want,
but no one tries to help,
I’m held to the fire,
chop liver until death.

Please let this smoke,
be your very last.
lance Sep 2019
I would miss the old you,
if it weren’t for the constant broken love.

The kind of love,
pieced together like a puzzle.

I regret letting you in,
because kissing you was dangerous.

Your lips were a drug,
i couldn’t stop taking.

My heart was a toy,
you couldn’t stop breaking.

My hope was a life,
you couldn’t stop faking.

I can’t help but wonder,
why you helped save me,

but break me at the same time.
lance Sep 2019
The skies were grey,
Like hidden secrets.
A blemish in nature,
An unborn fetus.
The gold sat near,
But sold to science.
It lay in water,
Product of only God’s finest.
lance Sep 2019
Pungent mask,
shattered hearts live,
for what it’s worth,
I’d give a kiss.

When the sky started to sleep,

So did we.

Struggling to breathe,
our skin turned statue.

Maybe the days we have,
are taken too much for granite.

When depression is active,
we can’t help but see the world,
like death is attractive.
The gloom covers our eyes,
and tucks us in,
like dad once did.

We were kids, once.

Careless to our surroundings,
corruption we’d await to see,
the world could be ending,
but we’d still plan to meet.

It’s a shame my brain,
would haunt me,
for years I will never get back.

Why is emotion so strong?
Always question the love I lack.

We were the center of attention, once.

Born into love, smiles,
and the joy I wish I still saw.
As we grow older,
the clocks tick forward.

Most days begging,
to see the light again.
And to breathe the air,

I did as a kid, once.
lance Sep 2019
i felt miserable,
solemn to the fact,
that giving up
was my harsh reality.

i had dealt with pain before,
but nothing like
the anguish i juggled
in my own hands,
every single dying day,
keeping me up at night.

there’s something about,
sitting all alone
listening to the crickets,
while fueling my addiction,
one cigarette after another.
always finding comfort
in all the worst ways.

Back in eighth grade,
I littered my arms with scars,
told myself no more drugs,
But took them that very night.
always anxious for a way out of my own anxiety,
social and situational always got the best of me.

Took the oath of staying sober,
and picking myself up,
from the debt my heart held that night,
i swore it would stop.

but just like me,
it pushed through,
even when the smoke
filled it’s cavities,
and even when my own head,
lied to me,
over and over again.

My parents always said:

“listen to your heart, and not your head”.
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