In that moment it had occurred to me that for my entire life I had been breathing in a toxic, poisonous gas.

One that had been draining my life and destroying my soul.

The first word she spoke, the first smile that I witnessed grace her lips; that was fresh air.

She was oxygen.

I may not have much. I may not be worth anything of value.

But she owns every ounce of my soul.
Every thought in my head.
She owns my entire heart,
and every second of my future.

In this rule book I carry till the day I die,
first lesson is; you have to learn to lie,
and cover those wounds with a wistful sigh,
'cause penguins wouldn't be loved the same if they could fly.

Her name is Mercy and she says it like a joke,
she shows up when you're thirsty just to watch you choke.
Yes, her name is Mercy and she seems almost like a star,
but she just wants to hurt me, she just lives to be a scar.

Her name is Mercy and she claims to be a saint,
she pushes just to see if you'll ever voice complaint.
Yes, her name is Mercy and it's the most beautiful sound,
and what she claims to be is never truly found.

Her name is Mercy and she's stunning in your eyes,
but you always know the worst will be what she claims is a surprise.
Yes, her name is Mercy and she lights up your life,
her eyes are flirty, but her words are a knife.

I was trying to show that I'm not like rest,
but I think I only succeeded in boring you to death,
As I can see the lint from you picking at your pockets,
And the burn marks on the same fingertips from sticking them in sockets.

The world, don't you see it?
You should glance, as it's bound to end.
Don't stand, you really should sit,
it's the only way your knees turn to bend.
High aggression with loose remorse,
who starts a riot in such a heavenly place?
In a doctor's office, walks in a horse,
and the physician only says "why the long face?"

Take me to the graveyard,
and lie me on the ground.
I'm playing the "one day..." card,
as it's the only one I've found.
Maybe this translucent simplicity,
has made everyone so sick of me.
But I don't talk back, for I've silenced my lips.
So dry they bleed and crack, but so wet my thoughts still slip.

Everyone keeps their movement going,
they don't lose step with the rising flame.
Their masks are slipping to start showing,
underneath they are dull and tame.
The problems line up to play "Red Rover,"
I'm feeling weak, I know I'm going to lose.
But I never hear them yell "come on over,"
which is a relief as I'm too tired to tie my shoes.

Take me to the graveyard,
and lie me on the ground.
Just leave me and disregard,
my final word's dying sound.
Maybe this translucent simplicity,
has forced the world to finally see,
what no one will admit, the drying paper on the line.
Accusations that don't acquit, just blank navigational signs.

"To be Continued..."
It always sounds so great,
but the original was skewed,
so the sequel relies on fate.

Take me to the graveyard,
and lie my body on the ground.
Walking away won't be hard,
my corpse turns to dust, pound by pound.

How many people have to die for your "personal growth?"
For your "well being," or your "revelation?"
You accepted the burdens when you swore your oath;
the pledge, the vow, of your own creation.
A beautiful tornado that wipes the ground clean,
destroys all stable structures in it's path.
A breathtaking painting depicting a deadly scene,
this is unrequited dedication's true wrath.

Back and forth, side to side,
this is a gorgeous question mark.
South and North, turning tide,
this is the light that leads to the dark.

How many people have to die for your "personal growth?"
For your "Eureka!" For your "I got it!"
A question and an answer; you are missing both,
the obvious is present, but you've always fought it.
A gentle hurricane that cracks the Earth,
that shakes wildly and tears the skin.
A stock that's crashing with impeccable worth,
this is unrequited dedication's identical twin.

Back and forth, up and down,
this is a gorgeous question mark.
South and North, sky and ground,
this is the light that leads to the dark.

So this is what it's all about,
"ego," and "control?"
Constant rain, but daily drought,
falling while on a roll.
Pockets are closely holding your hands,
but the strangling does succeed.
Lungs of water, body buried in sand,
it absorbs all my heart does bleed.
I'm one more body to the pile that's left,
no one shakes their head or ever looks behind.
Thoughtlessly giving and innocent theft,
this is unrequited dedication's version of kind.

Here we all fly separate, under a sky of blue,
I would say goodbye but I'll cave to "toodle-*******-oo."

The sunrise greets the morning dew,
to paint the sky with a vibrant hue.
The last night has passed and a new days has come,
advertised perfectly by a morning’s sun.
Alarm clock birds hold no button to “snooze,”
nothing left from yesterday, so now nothing left to lose.
Go hesitantly wipe the sleep from your eyes,
and politely greet the oncoming sunrise.

The blissful sunset that once held the night,
sped off within our starry eyes so fast.
The brilliant, blinding, shining light,
tragically drifted off, lost in the past.
It separates the long days from the glorious dreams,
and divides them into hostile, opposing teams.
A sunrise and it’s rays can always carry hope,
that maybe one day it’s possible to move on.
Either surprise fairy tale, or tasteless joke,
maybe my sense of humour is just somewhat wrong.

So remember to always bless a sunrise,
but never, ever more than a sunset.
Both light up the passing, fading skies,
that cover our shaking regret.
At night, we all strive only to peacefully sleep,
to **** the hours before the sun makes horizon’s leap.

Empathy is just not meant to be, it needs to fall of the track,
and so do I, as empathetic is me, so much strength that I lack.
Soft and secure, I will never make it out alive,
warm and protective; time wasted to revive,
no one will save me, no one will even try,
and that's why I drift in the pitch black sky.

Make up your mind, 'cause I really hate the bounce,
and to everyone I'm blind but I see what really counts;
if no one can get to me, I'm sure to finally breathe,
as everyone is set to flee and I just watch them leave.
Regrets and memory.

Who the Hell said you were the boss?
I counted every win but was outweighed by loss.
Basing my whole life on a god ****** coin toss.
Fell down to the grass and buried by moss.
Heart stopped suddenly, I never saw my wound bleed,
but it was all it took and it was all it would need.
Regrets and memory.

Good to know you, but I'm
Over and
Out.
Done being left in the cold only to be
Braving a drought.
Yes, I'm here, let's clear the doubt, the story has
Ended, and I'm not sure what it's about.

I fear I am just wasting time
making sure the stars don't realign,
my tender words acted through arm-less
mime
and a foreign language on every sign.
Always searching even though we're blind,
I don't know what we hope to find.