The nights are filled with corrupt doctors and cops. Justice, like a dog bite. Madmen prey on the weak and needy. This seedy town ain't got nothing for me. I'm heading out west, get a longboard ride the breeze, and taste the waves... all the way to Hawaii baby.
time slips from my fingers when i count each passing day that passes by like passerbys on a busy street walking past me, my disillusioned form an escaped daydream from a chronic sleepwalker a recurring thought
the clinking of atoms like drinking glasses the passage of space things don't make sense nowadays never really did
i'm just a ghost with no body to call home translucent and vague people watching forever forever a thought bubble in a lonely man's world.
There is no room for gods for angels and hope for wings of flight and depth of field this defensive arms want to yield and this scarred heart wants to heal
There is no room for imagination under the weight of these books the text fills me up no devils cup no drugs or substances can free my mind the weight of the world is unkind and the sub titles aren’t signed and chaos has died in my mind or it’s been set free I can’t escape I just don’t want to be…
it's easy to criticize people for how they deal with pressure. but it's important to realize that pressure, like people, come in all different shapes, colors, and sizes; they affect people differently. because he doesn't drink just to drink. and she doesn't smoke just to smoke. they're trying to forget how broken they are inside. trying anything to escape their minds. escape their lives. and, at the end of the day, that's all we want to do too.
Escape from what? The pieces impalpable Once part of thy self, are Nowhere to be found How many times will you try To cope up From some feeling Very profound.
Escape from what? Your own self or the world Is only one force governing you? Or is it dyarchy, through and through! You try to split from the other But it has an embrace Around you With the tightest glue
Escape from what? The happy or the gloom Calm or chaos, You do have a clue Or do you? Is it numb or very eerie Always sad, never cheery?
Escape from what? Reality, harsh and smooth O dear, stay here It is going to be a tough root Though all the impalpable Would unravel Someday on a blue moon!
escape, what, good, bad, unravel, impalpable, blue moon
should we keep escaping? what is your take on this?
I have nothing left in this world to call my own, no where safe enough to call my home. All I really have is my writing stemmed from the thoughts replaying on an endless loop inside my head. I believe sometimes that when I write them down and create that maybe it’s my one way to get them to escape. My pain is truly stitched into each and every word. I hope that they will one day possibly be seen, and I can actually be heard.