Bathed in a bruised fire-glow,
The gypsy's ball shows
The future.

A life for the wicked,
OH, the sins it depicted!
Nature wins.

When wil I ever be better
Out shadowed out done
Words on a page
You give not a ****
So why the ****
Why am I here
Why shall I breathe
When I can beat my arms
With razors and blades
I can bleed
It's the feeling I have left
Paint my canvas red and my body ******
When will I not be out shadowed
When will I ever have something to my own

I run to my friends with all these fears and they tell me it will be OK.
I cant put it into words to tell them how I cant sleep, I cant breath
How I lay in my bed everyday and cry... Tears that stream down my face are of mixed emotions, but the truth is I am tired
How I wake up every morning with a pounding head and how long I have been popping pain killers.

I keep chasing shadows that I will never catch, In my own highway of dreams I  have been letting through people's dreams and never mine.
I am tired of society's high bar, the stuff we  have to do be accepted to be loved.
This is a burden I cannot carry, a cross I can no longer bear.
So in this open space I crucify my empty soul.
In these empty space i divorce society and life because I cant any more.

This is for the one who feels alone
For the one who feels defeated
This for the one without a home
For the one who feels cheated
This is for the one who's been tossed away
The one forgotten on the sidelines
For the one yet to see the day
To surpass the others and guidelines
This one is for all of you
All the burnouts the failures the depressed
This one is for all the losers
The stupid the hopeless the oppressed.
So what?
You ******* up
So what?
You tried so hard
So what?
You
Still
Lost.

And maybe you are alone
Maybe you sit on the sidelines
Maybe you haven't had your chance
Maybe you can't see the guidelines
Maybe you're the bystander
Maybe you're the victim
Maybe you've been lied to
Maybe you've been cheated
Maybe you really Are a loser,

But you are not defeated.

AM I REAL?
The silence to me is very loud.
My shift from fantasy to reality is a dream as the echoes of my own pain paralyze me.
I dream of a dream that ceases to exist since it’s alive in my own world that is parallel to reality.
I block out deathly memories of a sick twisted childhood. I think the lies in my head are catching up with me.
I constantly tell myself lies, secrets and fantasies the Pandora box denied. Am I for real?
I yearn for the unknown. This black hole has me hopelessly mesmerized. Lost beyond return.
I can no longer hear my own voice. Dead I remain. Still. At hell in my own peace.
I surrender to this fear that gave birth to me. I am slave to a slave. Prisoner to a prisoner.
As I say ash to ash, dust to dust, what do I tell the world about me?
Death to death, fear to fear, hate to hate and darkness to darkness.
As hate gave birth to me she abandoned me for happiness. Her kind of “happiness”
“They” say I am a ray of light to their darkness.  Somewhat a glimpse of hope. A mirror to their dreams.
“They” say I inspire the expired. Give redemption to the lapse of those who have given up.
Are “they” for real? If and when they strip me of this pretence they will know.
They will reveal deep dark secrets that hell could not hold.
I used to vacation in hell until one day the devil kicked me out.
He told me I was to “damaged” for his liking. Too corrupt for him to handle
Too evil to be evil.

It is only
when one
is sick and
devoid of it
does one
realise that
all the world's
a love song
And the people
star-crossed lovers.