I can feel the pain
I haven't felt in a while,
the tears I have yet to shed,
and the aches that don't hurt my heart.
Why is it I feel everything I have not?

if the scribbles on my arm
are anything to go by,
messy and short of
telling the world
my version of life,
then call me crazy,
call me hopeless --
just trying to empty my guts
and leave behind some baggage.
where else do you go,
tell me, then,
how do you do it,
serenade life into submission?
because i've been a little shy.
been hiding in the shadows
and giving you the eye,
asking you in silence.
tell me, tell me,
where else do you go,
when there's no one
left to call home?

She is lonely
but she wants to be alone
She is trapped in a room
with the door unlocked

She doesn’t remember
but her dreams don’t let her forget
She wants to wake up
even if she can still see the stars

She wants to be the best
but she feels like she is the worst
she works hard
even though she cannot move

Do you ever feel like no matter what you do
it will never work
as though the world surrounding us
doesn't want us to succeed?
You then begin to loose faith in this belief
and you feel so let down.
You're trying to make something work so bad
but it just isn't.
I feel like this all the time,
you feel that
you can't succeed in anything you put your mind to
because you know you will be let down deeply.
So,
you stop trying to succeed
you don't even begin anything.
It begins to impact of your school and work life,
you don't believe that you will do well in a task or exam
so you just don't try.
You then realise that you have given up on most things because
you're...






h o p e l e s s

How do you
Forgive yourself
For all the
Things that
You never
Became?

I spotted a fortune teller at an old county fair
while knowing the answers I still looked for some there.
There was no love line or fate line she could’ve read,
I told her I bet there’s no sun line, life line or trace of a head.
She met my eyes with sadness written all over her face,
and told me out of all people that I was her worst case.
She traced the inside of my hand intently trying to see
then she asked me had I recently been burned severely.

In my death bed I’ve been waiting patiently for sleep
sadly I’m not the one it wishes to greet.
With past scars and present fresh wounds tunnelling down so deep,
loss of blood and mind so I’m left as just a sack of meat.

A loving caress to each feature
but succeed in only poking the bone,
and every single living creature
dies completely alone.
She was a rainbow and I; charcoal grey,
they all choose to go but claim they wish to stay.

The beeping bouncing off the wall
steady like sirens or alarms,
and at the end of it all
we all die in our own arms.
She was a rainbow and I; charcoal grey,
I still catch her glow but it’s fading away,
I know it could never last, but I still have to pray,
‘cause I am the past and she’s only in today.

I’ve acted strong and kept up this ruse,
atleast I can say I’ve always been brave,
but when I’m not digging up the past, ghosts or clues,
I’ve steadily been digging my own grave.

No lines, no ties, not a single strand.
I’ve got the palmist right in the palm of my hand.

Quilt of Shade

Sheets of shadow fold,
Knitting new inches of a heavy quilt,
Nightmares and darkness to behold,
Causing love and happiness to wilt,

A horror of neglected emotions,
Each quilted square a new scene,
Pushing darkness, going through the motions,
Scalding showers to feel clean,

To feel warmth, inside and hide,
When opening to other makes you weak,
Pushing those who tried when you cried,
Counting only self when times are bleak,

Legions in a single square,
Each color a tainted shade,
Each one a devils badge to wear,
Constant weight, the feelings begin to fade,

Emotional pain, physically twists organs and nerves,
Living in the past,
Keelhauled by life’s curves,

Dead demons drone dour,
Drawing dimming desolate soul,
Crown of ruin at the top of this tower,
Devils whisper because angels would not cajole,

Wearing a mask to conceal your tears,
Painted in humor, smiles, offered assistance,
Under, a face scarred by fears,
Escaping shadow, the only consistence,

But shadow moves faster then light,
Understanding only gets you so far,
A devils hold, precise, contrite,
Changing, becoming the scar,

Labeled empty, hollow, fuckboi, or ***,
Forgetting sides, lost in a fight,
Offered hands but screaming ‘no!’
Pushing those who seek inner sight,

In prayer you crow,
To gods, devils, one to seven,
Cold, cursed, driven in flow,
To whoever will take you to heaven,

My mind these shadows pry,
Clinging to humanity,
Under distorted static you cry,
****** by hope and insanity,

Soul slipping in peril,
Through acts of good,
But still growing feral,
Those outside claim to see, but misunderstood,

Seeing self as no hero,
Hurt on levels weighing out the helped,
Karmic scales tip zero,
Tiny wounds sown but others scalped,

Lifetime member to the order of black,
Shadows that guide the annoying fly,
Showing light, deep down desire attack,
Good intentions always leading to an early goodbye,

Only oneself to blame,
Swatting hands that offer aid,
Just another piece in the devils game,
Just another lost sinful crusade,

Giving all to save,
Reflecting,  blood soaked, in a silver mirror,
Inside ones own mind, a slave,
Suddenly you’re the one your people fear,

Why children cower under the quilt,
Hero in war begins to debauch,
Confidently pushing your responsibility and guilt,
Becoming the old villains you used to watch,