There's a funny thing about sadness
The way it surrounds you so you feel whole
Nothing else is let in
Except the sorrow and the pain
You can see the happiness
But never feel it
Want it
But not have it
There's a funny thing about sadness
How you become so familiar with it you can't feel anything else.

In a cold  night ,
Sitting by the fire ,
Thinking about the future ,
And regretting the past ,
I am living my present ,
And hoping for a good night.

As your heart begins to beat
Soon we fall asleep

I can only hope
That you still love me
As my tears crash against the ground
Watering the plants
Beneath the sun

I really love you
I can't put that into words
My heart flutters
Like a humming bird's wings
When death comes
It feels just like when we dream

I think
I really don't know
I really... don't... know

Why did you die?

Your heart is blacker than the ace of spades.
Its shriveled beyond all recognition
Nothing decent lives in your darkened soul.
Go back to whichever hell you came from.
Theres no place for you in the world of men.

My subconscious is an icky place
A trash bin, a place to sweep the dust and hide old things
The old things are my unwanted memories
They pile up and now it's a dump

My conscious is clean and beautiful
Spotless, but I made a mistake
Instead of taking care of my memories, I just threw them away
Now when I sleep, I pay

Slate skies
Stinging rain
No rainbows today.

Wicked laughter
from darkened houses
terrifies.

Defenestrated neighbors
Swing from ragged ropes
Tattered clothing
Exposes inhuman things

Soulless creatures
Skulk and lurk
patiently waiting
for beating hearts

Broken gravestones
hide terrified children
clutching iPads.
Fading light in a dark, dark
world