my only love was created by hating yours.
i hated your happiness, and that brought me to a place of destruction,
where i spent late nights drowning in the thoughts of you.
in those hours, a lover took my hand and brought me away from myself,
to a place where happiness existed without empty bottles.
and then you found my happy with jealous green eyes,
and then you took it all from me in a matter of seconds,
pretending your love was more than mine could ever be.
and it was easy for you,
because i was a cynic.
and no one could change that.
When I'm away from people I get lonesome
But crowds are more lonesome by far.
For when I'm alone I'm just a drop full of purpose.
But in a crowds you forget who you are.
Just absorbed in the mass,
like a tear in the ocean.
All meaning is lost in the
noise and commotion.
It's a societal hell full of
tension and emotion!
Still I mourn times in life that I didn't hang out,
While regretting the times when I do.
I have a few kindred spirits who are great one on one,
But I feel drained when the party exceeds two.
You couldn't tell this
by the look on my face,
Which holds a facade I call "joy".
I know I'm a cynical person at best,
And my expressions are generally decoys.
And such is my life, either way I'm depressed.
I'm damned if I do or I don't.
So please leave me be
when I say "I'm okay"
It's honestly better if you don't know.
You seem so legit for a guy your age,
if not a little tired and worn looking.
I glance at your blistered hands
You too, while climbing the ladder of life,
slipped on every fucking rung.
Wise and controlled, laser focused even,
if not a little non nonchalant.
I glance at your weary eyes
Nothing that real can be ugly,
Rustic and rugged is words likely used,
if they got over your glass jaw that is.
I glance at your never still lips
No others will see what it looks like
when clouds kiss.
Why are countries run like companies instead of communities?
Why do we prioritize a profitable margin over a healthy society?
Why when I try so hard to see the beauty in the world, does it continue to show me its ugly evil?
Is life redundant since we all end up dying?
Why do we die?
Is there anything after death? A heaven? A hell?
It's always darkest before the dawn
I know, that's what I've been told
raise your head and carry on
and live, before you're old
Don't dwell on the darkness
it will drive you too, insane
stare not into the deep abyss
or you'll never be the same
But, time and time again
I've been to the cliff, and beyond
delving into how and when
and just where, that I went wrong
So hold to your optimism my friend
stay on the brighter track
and to the light, commend
it's always at it's darkest
just before the bend
as it goes
Beauty is draining from the world at an alarming rate...
Nothing means anything anymore.
Sex is just a past time and not an expression of anything, trust or otherwise.
Words mean little, often biting and cruel
Society has grown jaded and water is thicker than blood.
Family keep secrets and speak not to each other, but to the masks each has created.
Friends are not true and often hard to find....
Loneliness is an epidemic, and no one cares enough to find the cure.
I do not trust a happy day
My mind recalls past patterns
And each time hope has come my way
Peeking past life’s parted veil
Singing songs of sweet tomorrows
The weeks that come are always hell
As are the all the years that follow
I do not trust a lover’s promise
For they can be given so easily
I have seen certain hearts shattered
When loving to carefree and happily
I know one cannot pledge eternity
Anything can be broken even the best family
I do not trust a possessor’s passion
Cause in pursuing owner’s pleasures
I have found all things are only passing
For the taking, to give, in the asking
We all tire of the new toy
Sweet things can rot away
Adding one more item to your pile
Won’t save you from your final fate
There is a far darker day dogging me
The shadows tight on my trail
Night will fall sooner than expected
So even when I smile, I do not trust myself
Moods will change, ebbing and flowing
With the winds that keep my armor
Flapping up and down so my scars are showing
The good is just a phase
Then again I could say the same thing
About the bad days coming
Neither are permanent
Only one thing is inevitable
I'm sick of being sick of everything
deep red, it burns a hole into my skull
original right? four in the morning, I bet you're crying now
you alienate your friends and revere drug abuse
how fucking original
39, 40, 41, only son, nothing done, faulty one
63, 64, 65, tricky lives, slicker knives, I'm sick, I lie
98, 99, 100, and I dread, and how red, I'm brain dead
A song for the bluebird, a tune for the jay
awkward in silence, dire words, while at play
Noting the difference, of the things that we say
inflection and nuance, depends on the day
Hand me no justice, from books that you've read
ideals in vain, too many liberals dead
Reality binds, as would bad underpants
not pessimistically wrong, given half a chance
Don't shoot the messenger, when delivery done
dark be the letter, that's never much fun