I get too deep in my own emotions, I never even attempt to try and bring myself back because I know that when I’m depressed they just become delusions. It’s simple to say that friendship can keep you sane but honestly, it’s the comradery the keeps me sheltered in an uncomfortable silence. Hearing about the pleasures someone can indulge in makes my heart break, then to hear them complain about the small demons they face in life just simply makes it hard to agree with their outlooks when I’ve seldom ever seen my happiness at its peak. It’s hard to think of them outside of our time together when almost every moment of my time is hard to fabricate. I love them but sometimes it feels like I have to liquidate and make my escape before I create a situation where I will negate the comfort I’ve created with them, it’s so hard not to express the feeling to leave.

The walls stare at me 
They will never set me free
I'll always be stuck here 
Do you not see? 

They're as white as snow 
And this is why I know 
That my smile will never glow
Even if they go 

Really, I'm in an asylum
it's because I was crazy
I'm sitting in an asylum 
I know I really am crazy 

But do you know the reason why? 
It's because he killed me 
He shattered my life
And now I can't see

A crazy broken smirk 
In the darkness I lurk 
I will search for you 
and probably **** you too 

It's like a trail of dominos
I'll push you down
No sadness too low 
Aww, come on, don't frown 

Now the walls aren't white, they're stained with red
Yes it is blood, because I cut off his head
It's funny how they never saw me escape 
Creeping, slipping out of the locked gates 

The room was completely locked
Did you know how I got out? 
I was never really stocked 
They never knew what is was about

A mystery they'll never find out 
How his head got cut off
Now the both of us shout 
And then they turned soft 

Really, I'm a ghost 
And I'll feed on a host 
To be able to ****
on my own free will

Maybe it's you next
I'll quietly strangle your neck 

They thought I was missing 
They haven't checked my room
They started on the names they're listing
To catch who began this gloom

Really, I'm in an asylum 
No actually, I'm in my room 
It's just that I am dead 
but they haven't buried me yet

she is an asylum,
her walls drip blackness
writing every word
that neglected
to slip past her
teeth,
she sleeps on
****-stained spring
mattresses as the
clod tiles bite
at her heels,
hair and skin hide
beneath her fingernails
as palms are twinged,
the padded walls
whisper screams
of coercion; wrists
bound by silence and
tightened by insanity.
to bedposts
rusted,
her hands retired on
ridged thighs
hugging her
goosebumps with
convulsions of agitation.
her mind
scratches melodies of an
insomniac,
the flickering lights choke
her vision and blind her speech.
a room of contradictions
irregulating regularities
intoxicating sobriety
hallucinating reality,
the muffled screams
that weave through
the fibres of the
pillow clinched tightly
in her lap harmonize
algorithms that pull
each padded wall
towards her howling
being — centrefold the room,
as the walls hug her body
she awakes and paints
antonyms to
perpetual despondency

Oh they pleaded,
women, men
young and old,
'let us pass through that sea'
to a place where we could start all over',
yet their voices fall into deaf ears
of their brothers and sisters
from another mother land,
hopeless they remain drifted
in the treacherous sea
feeling unwanted, unloved
forever rejected,
by the policies of the modern
migration...

the unworthy sea-going boat,
becomes their coffin
and the sea and the seafloor become
their graveyards,
the common fate of boat people - the asylum seekers.

My aunt’s in the garden,
     Growing gold.
My uncle’s in his new shirt,
     Growing mold.
My cuz’s in Af-ghan-i-stan,
     Growing cold.
I’m swimming in wine,
     Growing old.

This piece should make sense,
     But it don’t.
This piece should tell tales,
     Still, it won’t.
I’m home decades later,
     Or so I wrote.
My daddy’s days dead
     And so I’ll tote.

make art everywhere
undress the lucky ones just to find out what makes them tick.
know a boy for 4 days, decide you like his personality, kiss him behind your best friends shed
stop acting like there's something more to the hurried way he lights his cigarettes.
It was never supposed to happen like this.
but, i fell in love with the way you broke your promises
I spent weeks breathing air only to realize it was only the way you grabbed my hips that mattered.
stuck in this endless loop of trying to teach the sun to forgive and the moon to forget
i've been lost in moments of tilted sunlight and dancing fingertips.
Now I'm thinking maybe I never loved you more than this.
yes, I drank the darkness
tell dad i'm off to get drunk with the creator.


I'm only a rough draft with tentative revisions lying on your bedside table. This is what happens to me at night.
yes, I drank the darkness.
This is how I stay up trying to capture the memory of light before it was ****** into your coffee cup eyes. Trying to understand how I continuously fit so perfectly into your palms after I've told myself for months that I'd outgrown your games. And when we fell in the mud I screamed I would not get cleaned up at your place but, took your hand anyway. Cuz' it was always a ***** little love we had anyways. But, I'll tell you what, it ***** realizing your life is full of a bunch of romantic metaphors that don't mean jack ****.  And that rain falls through roofs every once in a while in a healthy home but, I've just been saying my palms were enough defense against this storm. Is it okay to ask for help now? Lightning, the old frenemy, has split me right open and no this is not an excuse to dig. I just need a warm body to carry me home tonight.
I don't want your pity I want art.
you're not the man of my dreams but you're this boy that'll do.

I've been feeling the itch to write a poem but there isn't much left on the surface for me to comb. I think the problem is that I feel too at ease within my own home, nothing tragic has happened so my skin feels so securely fastened that nothing can access the workings of my inner axis. I want to cut the straps and let everything fall to the floor, I want so much for my guts to push against the closet doors so my skeletons can adore the metaphorical gore and reach out to feel for more. What i need is for the pain to come back, a crow to seek out the dove and commit a passionate attack. I desperately need that confinement to feel the claustrophobic sense of pleasure in every tightening breath while I scratch and scratch at the surface until my nails are ****** and cracked. Everything has gotten dry and stale, I hope for something to block up my tracks and make my mind derail.

How can I let myself roam free
When the darkness creeps behind me.
Waiting for me to to stumble
So that I loose every
Sane thought that I  own.
So I would have to scream to
The heavens
For being abandoned or alone.
The darkness hates
Hates the positive thoughts
That consume me.
So they lock it up
and threw away the key.

Why are you waiting
To drag me down that road
Can't you see I wan't
To be free from this Asylum
Free from this insanity.

Drove away, broke the breaks
Closed my eyes... where am I now?
Perhaps I've sailed
too close to the sky.
Rowing and rowing,
unminding the splinters.
To bleed just a little
And bleed more and more.

If I'd fly an airplane,
I'd explore the seas
To chuckle underwater
watching a submarine burn.
Went a little insane
or so I was told.
Said they'll build me a fortress,
but they'd call it an asylum.

They'd always visit
when most are fast asleep
Running back and forth
as their tails touch the floor.
I love how their eyes glisten,
clustered stars in a black hole.
But they only saw me once
through the window on the door.

Freed at last!
Or so I thought.
They gave me shelter -
the finest they had.
Pinpointing I was happy
whilst their words deny
So mute the sound,
see how they open their mouths.

Maybe I was stable
so they let me be.
But the more I stay,
the more I drift away.
They may see the goodness,
but I only see the sins.
Crawled back to my asylum -
**the place where I should be.

I'm locked away kept inside a castle that's dark and grey. I've condemned myself to be imprisoned because I refused to listen, now im here where there are distant screams but I feel I'm here alone waiting for the light that's never shown. When I walk through the halls I can smell the burning dead, maybe its a silent scream that carries it from one of the rooms doused in dread. A candelabra lights my way while I wander the hallways searching for a reason but just when I see any they seem to turn and walk away/ I have to make my way through heavy wooden doors that separate these vast corridors, afraid to move fast for the fear of making a sound because something breathes beneath the floorboards. Time has no purpose here inside the stone walls, thoughts got away from me and now when I stop I can only hear as they crawl. I cannot leave so I attack myself in the room of mirrors, sanity is not present here only remnants of decisions that remain unclear.