I build a wall of insecurities
That may never be crossed
Because if the wall is weakened
My feelings get tumbled and tossed

I never mean to put up guard
But I can’t help it sometimes
I’m afraid of getting hurt
When people start crossing lines

I never wanted to come off mean
I just put up my wall
I only end up hating myself
I never wanted to hurt you at all

I refuse to let anyone close
I’ll only push you away
If I ever seem bitter to you
It’s only because I’m afraid

My insecurities protect me
Or so it may seem to be
Because when my wall comes crumbling down
Nobodies hurt but me

Three days absent of sleep.
Three days deprived of food.
Three days without direction, function, and moral collection.
Three days spent swallowed whole in the depths of plausible correction.

Oh my sweet, I fear no fate can contain this inevitable fear
buried tightly within my chest.
Concaved isolation,
bitterness consumed the best of me.

72 hours of solitariness.
72 hours of repression.
72 hours of apprehension.
72 hours of loss of consciousness.

Whispers of evergreens
chant to me.
Beige stained sheets become
nothing more than a distant memory.

Three months without you.
Three months desperate for lips,
which once caressed my *******.
Three months stripped of scalloped palms, and
crazed for circles traced across my neck.
Three months craving ocean eyes
softly speaking, “we’ll be alright.”

Warm baths filled to the brim
creamy, and delicate skins
while Chopin’s ballad danced in the twilight.
Forever delude us.
Forever spoil us.

Still 13 weeks without you.
13 weeks craving the vibrations of gentle breath,
humming me to sleep, silently sooth me.
13 weeks without fingertips tangling fine locks,
morphing into screams of our names
13 weeks without sideways smiles,
rich and modest, but assertive with simple grins.
13 weeks lusting after charcoal hair nuzzled in my chest,
Alluring arms wrapped around me.

The burden of our romance weighs my mind.
Yet, let us go make our visit, I say
to yellow smoke that lingers on streets and window-panes.
It’s time for indecisions, maybe a hundred visions with
Intoxication to bury us, exhilaration to uncover us.
There will be time to wonder, “Do I dare?
Do I dare fall back into the abyss of my mind?”
There will be time,
‘till voices wake us.

Down on Tulsa Oklahoma,
A problem starts to rise.
The birdwatchers try to solve it
Thinking they'd stop demise.

She sits there in her throne in capsule
Gazing down on the blue.
She starts to notice quite a ruckus
And it affects her too.

"Oh god, please! Major, are you there?"
She doesn't hear a sound.
"Please at least give us some message,"
The watchers gather 'round.

Now over onto Jupiter,
The girls runs out of air.
A once-joyed planet below her
Has not one person stare.

She checks the speedometer
Traveling at great speeds.
Surprised before air ran out,
The red planet still bleeds.

The leaves swiftly swayed in the wind
As he calmly walked through them
Not a sound was heard throughout
No crushing leaves or break of a stem

The stars shine bright like diamonds
In the night sky the moon is the only light
But he needed it to be dark
He couldn't do the job if it were bright

He stumbled steadily across the trail
His feet making quite light imprints
But he still kept trotting on
His skin still at a chalkboard black tint

The moon almost setting now
But he was almost there
The coffin was set up already
At the top of hells stair

The sun almost up now
But he found the body in the clear
His wife hanging from the tree
The only thing he had left was fear

His calm walk stopped suddenly
And he hung the rope parallel to her
And stepped closer to end like her                  
And this time it would be for sure

Redlight running faster than the words I left unsaid
and in the tides of sirens I lay broken with nothing left
Looking through those shattered windows, pained eyes
Watch the hands that healed now bloodstained leave their sight
My sight

Choking on the ashes of the house we built
The world stood silent and the oceans filled
With sweat and tears paired with heartache that no one else could feel
and memories scared with sorrow of which these wounds may never heal
Let them heal
just let me heal

Gasping for the surface giving all I have
Escape the grave of suffering with my last breath
So convinced by bitterness that I may never love again
But I'll stand strong against the gods because thats just who I am

But its not for you
It never could be
and its so hard with every step we're unlearning
this house of cards is burning
burning
Down

What do the gods know
of humanity
to be unlovable
Thanks for convincing me
That I will die alone
Hurt the ones that mean the most and no one in this world was
Meant
For
Me

And its not for you
It never will be
and its so hard with every step I'm unlearning
But my hearts caught fire
and its burning, burning now.

.
Remember when, proud walks in bonny glens,
I took her hand, we did pretend
And she became, princess of daisy chains,
O how those days still refrain.

When spring appears, wee birds sing their love songs,
Of the winds, in her hair.

We made a bed in the pine needles fine,
Misty rains fell and tasted of wine
And the sun made its way cross the skies,
Little moons welling in our eyes.

When spring appears, wee birds sing their love songs,
Of the winds, in her hair.

[ Bridge ]

Summer bled into autumn so red
And the seasons sweet, they all fled,

Now winter comes and the valley is run
And the wee singing birds have all gone.

I walk alone down the mountain sides,
To the sea of dreams, close in my eyes,
For she once was a true love of mine,
The north wind blows, out of time.

*Seasons sweet in bonny glens.

I have met Masters and OGs
within joint commissions.
While my dear, Granddaddy Purple’s
spending my tuition.

But, it was merely a Blue Dream
at blunt ceremonies.
While Hindus and Afghans breed in
holy matrimonies.

Look at all of Mary Jane's strains,
I want to be like them;
stuck pondering my bud's embrace
and all’the broken stems.

Reuniting the Skywalker's
was quite like the Death Star
far out, in space and burns fast like
Sour Diesel’s quick car.

I rode the Pineapple Express,
then I hit the Train Wreck.
Lights out! The conductor demands
that we have our pipes checked.

Look at all of Mary Jane's strains,
I have plenty of them,
still pondering my bud's embrace
and all’the broken stems.

My bud's came less often and I
became less credible.
I told my bud Bubba that we
should switch to edibles.

“But, you can't eat these sweets unless
the treat's gradual high
stops your bud’s from disappearing.
You need me to get by!”

Where are all of Mary Jane's strains?
I need some more like them;
losing the embrace of my bud’s
and all’the broken stems.

All my buds have vacated me.
All that's left is Reggie
and Mid, who aren't like my kind buds;
they’re leaving me edgy.

I’m hanging with Mid and Reggie
hoping they'll come around
But now, even they’re gone, and I
have lost what was once found.

The strains of Mary Jane are gone.
I can't live without them!
I dream to see my bud's once more
and all’the broken stems.