I lay with melancholy,
A emotion that is dark and unholy
Leaving you with a sense of dread
Almost wishing that you were dead.

It doesn't matter how hard you try
It seems you can't find the light
No matter what you do,
You always find yourself in the dead of night

You look in the mirror again,
Tears streaking your face,
Why cant i make amends
Instead of always having this chase

You play hard to get,
But you play to well,
You get forceful,
Only to beat yourself down.

You look at your past,
Your forced to see what you did
Like a knife to the heart,
Twisting and grinding.

You beg for mercy,
only to be denied by yourself
You beg for forgiveness,
Only to be beat down.

Don't you see.
This all starts with you.
As it must end the same.
Until you contend with yourself.
You shan't begin to contend with others.
Lest you be beat down twice.

27 miles to empty
i needed to leave the house
i needed to get out of bed
to escape from loneliness
and, for a moment, leave behind
every single thing i never said

out of the quiet emptiness
of my cold grey walls
out of my head which,
coincidentally, only finds
stillness in distraction

i needed to give myself
something else to think about
to be preoccupied from
my own preoccupations

because it's never empty
up there, but sometimes
when i sing along
it starts to feel like
it's just me and the music

but my phone is dead
it always is
it's surprisingly hard work
avoiding all the conversations
you don't want to have
(which is most of them)

FM radio, i forgot where to look
i scan the stations
three times over
and only stop when i feel like
i'm emma woodhouse
88.1, symphony no. 3

and in the dark
i don't even have to
close my eyes
to pretend i'm someone else
somewhere else,
sometime else

and then the host rolls
advertisements, deals and steals
and did you know the cemeteries
are ready to serve you again?
i laugh to myself and wonder
what's it like to serve the dead?

to dig six feet down
and resist falling in
it's much more sad
up on top, anyway, you know

but i'm distracted again
and god, it feels good
i'd rather think about death
than how much it hurts
just to exist sometimes

in the classical music
i lose myself in the past
i'd romanticize a war if it meant
i'd get to wear a pretty dress
and never have to think of
someone falling out of love with me
ever again

even if it's because they're bleeding out
on a muddy battlefield
in the middle of a match
that wasn't even theirs to fight

somehow death seems a more
proper thought than imagining
you going on and living
without me

7 miles to empty
and i'm back to where it all began
i just can't shut out the voices
telling me all roads don't lead to you

Has the pain
not been enough
after I left you,
crawling on skinned hands and knees,
ribcage open,
heart bare, bleeding out,
exposing the shallow grave you dug
for yourself
to nestle and rest in
forever, for
as long as I breathe?
Just below the torn,
worn skin,
barely concealed and ever present,
never to be forgotten for you are,
still,
alive in my head

Death carries
no meaning here,
where you
and I
lay,
on our battlefield of blood spilled
and souls lost,
minds lost,
bodies lost in the abyss of
man’s darkness and
cruelty.

The depth of hatred can
only be matched to
the depth of love,
two halves of the same,
in your blood and mine
we lie as one.

Never reach for me again.

you say that you,
when something happens,
choose fight over flight.
yet. whenever I'm in trouble
or sad
or panicking
or numb
or angry
or bloodied
or bruised
you run, you freak out, you leave, you
vanish.
you fly away, raven.
so perching myself on this boney finger
of Death's
I, the crow, will caw
until you return
"to protect."

If you should ever come my way , just pause a while and stay
For many years I have lain
I once was young and unafraid

Fearless was my middle name
Left my familiar land of green
To a far more desert land

No birds sang
No flower raised its head
For all was dead

We reached the ravaged land
Not knowing what we would find
Only a red thin line that stretched  and grew

Knee deep in mud and topped with snow
We knew it would be slow
Huddled together to keep some warmth
Amongst the chatter

Lonely voices wept
And the months crept
Still no sign of a end
I lost many a friend

When days are long and nights even longer
The dreams of home are all you have
To return is all you desire

But here I lay
On pastures past
In a country I do not love
Many more beside me
So stay a while and cast your mind to a bright summers day  
When I was young and unafraid and
Fearless was my middle name