I’m the only one with dirt on my hands,
I’ve been crossing my fingers and snapping rubber bands.
And the fragments and pieces build into a story,
I transformed it to a thesis; the quality’s too low for me,
and I never set my expectations too high,
as should I, a lack of truth and abundance of lie.
My oh my and by the by.

There’s cracks in my ceiling and head,
there’s splinters in my skin and my bed,
there’s poison in the words I was fed.

I’m the only one missing pressure on my shoulders,
replaced the gentle weight with two heavy boulders.
I was wishing on satellites thinking they were stars,
breaking free from embraces thinking they were bars,
admiring fireflies not realizing they were cars
but I’m painfully aware of my own
scars.
I’m holding open seminars
to these memoirs of ours.

There’s cracks in my ceiling and shell,
there’s craters in my heart where I fell,
there’s holes in each story you tell.

I am a
No good
No-one
and you can't
Tell me
Otherwise.

In the end
I've found
All that really
Matters
Is who you were to them,
A year before you died.

Because I put a bullet where I should have put a helmet,
Along with Honesty and Sincerity,
And all their friends and Virtues.

Rebirth is easy, it's living that gets tricky.

Reborn as a sinner:
Love me,
Hate what I do
Best.

What I do best
Is watch you fall to pieces
Limb from crushed bone limb,
And what I do best
Is write sad songs
That I hide away in a corner of my
Closet(ed mind).

When you die,
They remember you with flaws they had of their own.
They make it about them,
And their pain,
As though being a martyr
Could actually bring you back.

(As though a martyr
Could actually come back)

So call me Apathy,
That'll be my new name.
A lack of empathy
No pitying sympathy.

Because I cannot seem to make you realize,
I do not empathize
Nor will I ever sympathize
With you no-good
Nice guys.

I'm a bad guy
What can I say,
I'm the villain, the antagonist,
I was put here as a test--

I went wrong,
I went far beyond wrong,
I took a wrong turn onto the wrong path in the wrong forest
Where I just don't belong.

So goodbye for the night, and maybe the next few,
But remember my number not name, as only the living seem to do.
So just remember these words, from time to time:
I am a lack of the holy seven--
You see, in place and in honor, I make nine.

My worth is not seen by the harrowing nature of my own eyes
I have seen too many lives pass before me
They are wilted
Jilted by an unrequited dream
Lives that are my own because I always place myself inside your heart
If I could take the next bus home it would be toward that time when
I was 10
I hugged my Papa so tight because he was at my birthday party
That would both be the sad and happy time for me
Only to experience great loss and great gain and great forgetfulness
The fear of neglect is so close to my heart
That when I feel any sort of bird born in my cages
It is also a trap to set it free
There is a song sung before it flies away:

"Premature maturity
The never ending running man
In one place is a rot on my mind
Until it dies of nothing
Because my body is where ideas come to grow and die and bear fruit
My body is where I am alive for the new roots to plant itself in my skull
To listen to the whisper of the woman in my ear
She says she is my mother
There is nothing to fear"

But why Mama did you leave us?
To grow in a place where nobody knows us
To belong in a world where you are rejected
Your children feeling nothing but loneliness

The back of my head is haunted by a man looking over my shoulder
He sees everything I have searched for
I find nothing
But he finds me without fail
He knows everything

That man inside this cage of mine
His nose is broken, his grin is crooked like a hunger inside him is restless
There is a dark pit I cannot find
If I find it I might just get lost in thought
Pondering on an idea I can't quite remember
My mind treads unto idea upon idea
Until the stores have closed
It's nothing short of a shame
I don't mind your sorries
I only mind the explanations

If you could only find me my father again

I'm just a beautiful liar, with nothing but chains and whips to cover the truth.
I'm just a beautiful liar, with nothing but wounds and scars to cover the pain.
I'm just a beautiful liar, with nothing but twists and schemes, to cover the hate.
You may deny me, you may admit me, you may underestimate me.
But somehow, I have you questioning yourself.
I'm just a beautiful liar, trying to be good.
I lie with no remorse, yet, I tell the truth bluntly.
I know my capabilities, only a few I choose to use it on.
Don't trust me, and I won't trust you.
I'm just a beautiful liar, beggin, to be good.
Punish me daddy, for I have lied to tell the truth.
For I have sinned to be good.
For I have underestimated my own intelligence, to get my way.
I'm just a beautiful liar, covered in promiscuity.

Just because its called a blunt,
Doesn't mean it dulls the edges.
It keeps everything turnt,
Giving a sparkle to the senses.

It gives you joy.
Whilst fading away your tensing.
Trips, it takes you on.
Just inhale. Take flight, take off. . .

When my inner self and my outer self disagree
I tend to let my inner self free
I will not be repressed by society.

I am labeled straight forward
abrasive
Some say it with respect and admiration
Others, like I have a disorder

They can call me abrasive
I'm prepared for it to continue
until my inner self fully replaces
judgement with Love

I am determined to seek empathy
I will continue to let my inner self free
I will not be repressed by society.

I have a long way to go
but, I trust me.