I've given birth to many things
Cloudy nights, slanted rays
Set ways, uneven days-
Wet it, let it
Permeate its hues-
Like rock 'n' roll
from the womb of the blues

I got a whiskey-drinkin' woman
She waits for me around the bend
Starts harvesting the plants
Now, whenever I drop in
We both play mute, 'cause we know
Where glowing fingers of the fire
play blown wood, like a piano

I've given birth
to birds and snails
Solar systems
that have failed
Let it pour, let it roar
and pay its dues
Like rock 'n' roll
from the fertile
womb of the blues

I'm really bad at building relationships and friendships and -ships of all sorts and my ancestors probably helped build Titanic because of how many ships im unable to build and keep a float for more than a little while. I try, I do, but they always flood and sink.

I think and I thought
I weep in my dear thoughts
What have I done
What could have been
I lay in regrets on a single mistake

It was a day like any other
Coffee in the morning
Feeling the warmth of the sun, in my face

I was in battle for days
A battle of currencies
A battle of endurance
A battle in which, I am getting drained
My mind is tired
My body is weaken
My thoughts are in disarray

With a click of a mouse
I have lost it all
With that click of a mouse
I have fallen down
With that click of a mouse
I felt a slash in my heart
That hurts like nothing I ever knew
With that click of a mouse...
I have became nothing but a rotting log

As they say,
When it rain, it pours
Today, hard as I tried to stand again
I never could
The clouds thunder
The lighting strikes
I have became nothing but a rotting log, soaked in mud

The skies are grey
The end is not in sight
The pain is beyond my threshold
The pain is killing me slowly
I feel suffocated
Suffocated with failures
Months of success, undone by a single click

I can only hope, I can get up again
I can only hope, the sun rises
I can only hope, I can only hope

Water filled eyes
Tear stricken face
Mascara running all over the place

Trembling hands
Vermilion drained heart
Shriveled up soul, ripped apart.

Solid enough, a single tug
Unravels each strand
As a woven rug.

Weakened and empty
Failed once again
Never enough to fight through the end.

Prickling fear
Climbs down the spine
Paralyzing each victim that it can find.

Locked in a ruthless, icy cold clutch
Struggling for air, but the suffering is too much.

They say, "as I walk through the valley of the shadow of death I shall fear no evil"  for me I dont need to walk in the valley of death to fear no evil, I will only have to look in a mirror to fear it, for I am evil. I am the punishment that my enemy's have beset judgement onto me, because I can only truly be my own worst fear. A man soaked with sin and remorse longed to be free from the shackles of my father and his before him. Im outraged at the man iv become inside, so deep in hate for I am the last thing I wanted to be, fearful. The lost of my life or loved ones due to my incompetence of judgement. I fear I am lost mankind, and have failed myself and all of my dreams. For I am just a man with nothing left but words on a canvas.

"You're better now right?"
"Yes."
That is the biggest lie
You can't just get better from suicide.
You can't just get better from depression.
It always sits there haunting you.
Waiting for you to fail
Again
And
again
And
Again

summer day
It was just a summer day I remember,
I never had meet you but we talked,
I never seen you but I knew who you were
Seemed to be all a dream
But I can't seem to forget it
We walked
We talked
we even smiled at each other.
But it never ended my way,
It always ended with you choosing him anyways.
I tried,
but I failed,
even if today you long for me
I'm past your long,
because it was always my fail.

I do not classify myself as a Becca or Becky because the ‘Re’ is important.

The prefix meaning ‘again’ motivates me when I fail to keep trying again.

Failing *****, but growing from mistakes is a beautiful process that I come by often.

Before night fall, before I nod off to sleep- I am the worst of all the things that have always bothered me.
The devil of all the worst to keep.

The stories and what they meant- behind the pen and words to describe them so patiently.

Without purpose, and of no direction to speak. I paint them in a line dividing my mind and my reality.

Of these things I've hoped to have accomplished but have failed and how if you've succeeded then it bitterly depresses me:

So, dark streets with no lighting but for the car. A long drive seemed fairly uninteresting. All thoughts about the girl sitting next to me.

And how she stays quiet for a while before she starts to talk about the things she seems to thinks we need.

And in that moment I can sense it- a destiny. Not for the rest of our lives but for the hint of self discovery.

All the fallacies we believe, can they start crumbling?

It's short lived, the quickly dissolving feeling of warmth. The lines falter between the physical desire for lust now and the need for love more than anything.

And if I missed out on both was it fear of further failure or the consequences of love that's been shattered?

I never wanted to get left behind. And so I treacherously denied myself the feeling of hope and watched it all slip by.

Without hesitation, no doubt of anything at all, I pushed on to try and find meaning. No meaning. We just expose all the carnal parts. To try and find healing in the arms of those we hope to know.

I want to experience love without doubt, without wondering if there went something wrong. I want to bury the ghosts and put them deep in the ground. And I fear the dangers of my fears that have been overwhelming me. I want to know why I fear to love the most out of everything. I think it's a shame that I just can't seem to get over you.

Why am I so scared?

I see her blank stares. As she tries to read me. Tries to understand. But it's not dreams or fairy tale land. I'm being haunted by the past and all the broken glass used to cut skin and write out the names of sins.

So was it ever half as much as it seems to me? Or is it just a gentle whisper of what I had thought it had been?

Just us grasping to nothing and holding on tight to the ropes in the hopes of something glorious happening when we sense those feelings we so long to forget.

And so all we know is regret, and I am afraid to admit that I might be ashamed to be feeling. So I try not to feel anything at all, and so I let you leave and you forget and you forget and you forget what we were close to feeling anyway.