I need permission
To break through this invisible forcefield,
To give you a hug,
And make it not ******.
Yet...
We both know
It not to be true.

i wish i could just live for myself
and nobody else
i wish i didn’t have to love you


***

to want is a human emotion
want is prevalent
yet with want comes guilt
why?

**


Connect through the disconnection,
What else is there left to say?
What lies ahead is imperfection
Don’t tell me I’ve doomed the day.

***

I am stuck
Perpetually in one place
I am unmoving
Through time, space and aspirations
I have not changed, I have not been allowed that luxury
Nor do I think I will ever change
This has been forced upon me
This burden is unceasing
All I have left are my dreams
And my poetry.

Surmise too often, likely a sheer redundancy, unduly supposition went south I'd slump it from high.
Curious? I'd throw down the gauntlet; fathom me out throughout the time of hesitation.

You are an undefined illusion
That adds to my confusion
There will be no resolution
But you cannot disguise the truth
Of your tender smile
And shining eyes
And a faraway voice
Of what could possibly go wrong?

hounds of hell talked to me last night
hounds of hell talked till it was light
didn't know what they said
just confusion in my head

and i listened oh i listened
to the growls of hell
i listened oh i listened
to the howls of hell

went awake inside my head
saw the face of satan yeah
image of a normal man
kinda looked like you my friend

and i listened oh i listened
to the howls of hell
i listened oh i listened
to the growls of hell

My soul lies at the bottom of a cold glass bottle,
I live my life full throttle conscious and wild,
With unfathomable sorrow in the bottom of my scorned black heart,
I play fast and loose with love and idle madness,
Its the fruit of my life that gets me through.

Everyday is like Russian roulette in my mind,
Everyday I take a sip but the truth gets harder to find,
It doesn’t exist at the bottom of a bottle,
Yet everyday I desperately search for the answers,
Everyday I fall just a little behind,
It’s an unwinnable game that I constantly lose
everyday I slip closer to the end with no light in sight,
Yet it’s the little fruit of my life that helps get me through.

Sometimes I feel like a god, sometimes I feel like a roach in a pool,
Sometimes I feel like a king, sometimes I feel like a fool,
Sometimes I feel like the very essence of life,
sometimes I feel like the darkest cold death,
But it’s the spark in my lungs, it’s the fire in my stomach,
The Uniqueness! of my essence, and the freedom of my will,
but I’m still just a slave with a bullet in my head,
I have to drench my soul and drown my burdens,
For now it’s the fruit of my life that gets me through.

These little monsters
Follow me around.
I need to run,
Outrun them now.

They run miles,
But never slow down.
Living in my head
Until I am dead.

Shall they follow me
To the grave?
Six feet under,
But there they lay.

Would they
Still have life,
If I am to die?
Would they still speak whispers
Into my mind?

For they are infested
Into mine.

But what am I thinking?
My enemy is me.
I am unkind to myself,
Left my senses to flee.

They are just a small
Depiction of myself.

For I am not them,
Nor anyone else.

what does this mean?
****** palms, downtrodden expressions?
i don’t want you to **** me
with your ****** palms and deep dagger-like fangs
pulsing veins are black
i’ve lost my home
do you think of me when the silence is all you hear?
perhaps lying there do i seem worthwhile even for a second?