emerging from this bottomless darkness
I can see the rays of light just yonder
stretching the furthest stretch my arms will allow
grasping for anything lighter than black
hues of dimness or even a hint of shimmer
get me out of this dark I've been living in
let me see the light, let me in.

We sit along the bottom of the ocean,
Minds bending along with the light,
Our ears listening to the depths of our hearts,
It's a long journey to return to the surface,
So we sit bearing the pressure of the souls

my perspectives seem to be skewed.
uneven and drawn to misguided conclusions.
I'm left tilted and jilted
from my own interpretations.
flawed is my nature
with exceptional and judgmental accusations.
I'm not saying that I'm a wreck,
but I'm a ship that seems to have made a wrong turn
and I've somehow found my way to the bottom of the sea.

I looked at you
The way an artist
Would look at a naked woman.
Your bottom lip was designed
For kissing,
Your hands for crafting,
And there was a picture in every moment
I have shared with you.

I saw that we fit together
So very perfectly,
But the subjective camera
Was only me.


--Eleanor

Laying in bed with feet
I can smell from the other end of me,
with a poster of Malcolm X
and one of Rosie the Riveter.
A suitcase full of lights,
a wooden violin case,
a pull up bar,
a briefcase full of comic books,
and my bag.
Barely room for me.
No internet tonight.
Bad television.
A cardboard box
missing a panel, that reads,
"size matters!".
Tired. Alone.
Packed up all my books.

Moving into half of a home;
no toilet, no kitchen sink,
fridge is broken, paint missing,
smells weird, windows are *****,
everything is smaller and we
have too much ****,
so far all we have is electricity and
light.

Three hampers full of clothes,
two amplifiers, 5 guitars,
2 keyboards, a television,
a dresser, and a night stand.
Also a bed.
Whats left to go.
Me.

Cigarette smoke fills the rooms,
but it isn't mine obviously.
Still fills my lungs.
Fills my soul.
Commercial voices
fill the rooms.
Lust for sleep.
I wanna wake up somewhere
more comfortable than here.
Every insect in this room owns it
as much as I do now.
Nowhere to run.

I'm on a ship and I'm scared,
I'm not panicking, but
I'm scared of drowning.
Sinking has ceased to
stir my fears, because
the reality of drowning
has been realized.
Nothing can be fixed anymore,
least of all by me.
Cracks in the hull.
No iceberg,
just pressure.
I'm the type to choke in puddles,
so I'd say I'm handling well.

Hallways full of trash.
No furniture here… just **** on the floors.
I was concerned that I wouldn't
have my **** together when this happened
and it appears to be the exact opposite.
It's a darker comedy, that's for **** sure.
I'd sell everything if someone would
just ******* buy it, and if you feel that
then hold a lighter to the sky
for me tonight while
I'm still here.

So this is how it all falls down, huh?
It spirals downward and out of control,
forces beyond your nature going flippant
without mercy or thought.
This is how it ends;
not with a bang or a whisper,
but with a soft whistling
that ends in impact without detonation.
We're really ****** this time, aren't we?
We really ****** ourselves.
You have no escape plan,
no sense of time anymore,
****, you nailed your feet to a sinking ship.
And just watch how this ship sinks,
a gallon at a time until
we're at the bottom.
Get ready for the bottom, because
if you thought you knew the bottom before,
Oh, you were so poorly mistaken.
You have so much left to see.
King of filth;
you have so much more to live for.

a hole
void of light

dwelling in hellish mental wells
with no fight, flight or rational
weeeeelllllll,
.....
oh well....

man,
acclimated to dirt ceilings/sealings,
and
unless stars are aligned
will be born dead before found alive

roots from life
hang over head,
..
..**** em..
..
just empty promises
from another dead

so,

sit in solitude
a solemn wreck
show helping hands,
real neglect

to uncover this hovel.?
no shovel will do
even
a sympathy symphony
wont let light shine through

Empower.

manifest mountain-tops
from bottom rocks-once-kicked
blossom bottle-rock-ets
from sticks, stones,
and,
thoughts of home

illuminate
cold dismal walls
elucidate
ambitious calls

burst forth reborn
alter the skyline
with mind
refined

you can do anything
you put your mind to
look in the mirror
say im just tryna find you