Beauty is draining from the world at an alarming rate...

Nothing means anything anymore.

*** 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 ******* 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 ******* 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

I tend to play with the notion of love.
I see people who are in love,
and I wish to know
what it feels like to
cherish the existence of someone,
and to share with them
the most personal parts
of your body and soul.

I often find my cynicism
to ******* my chance
of ever finding someone
who I could love.
I fantasize about love so often,
yet I do so much to-
ruin whatever chance I could have.

I may never love someone-
the way I wish to love someone.

The corner street awaits with pride
Raise the palm and wave me hello
As the eyes melt reveal your heart

The smile is the manipulating trap
A stance you gaze magnifies my life
Stay in the zone oozing not snoozing

Disengaged in bases of sinking shells
Float on the wavy stretchy topography  
Claim my proponent inside the rigid iris

The splash of the canvas sprays attraction
Alternate the kaleidoscope fluid flashes
A slash, smashing my scepticism cynism

Untitled spiking depths and radiant flames
Erode past the sizzling chargrilled grins
It's in my eyes, my very soul sits and shines

O, Lord of the Meeting Rivers!

I am here, eastward
To the rising sun.
Presenting myself,
Bare hands and feet.

Lord, I am weak and frail.
Riverward, my reflection stirs.
A drop stirs the river.

Lord, I am weak and frail.
I have but one question.
O Lord, O.
Why.

Don't you ever praise me
for being who I'm not.

I am just a cynic.

I am just a rebel.

I am just an outcast.

And I will stay angry
at the world forever.