Ingenious, that clever man is heinous, completely outrageously mental genius.

but again what's in the name if it's just a game and the dream is the genie in us

so rub yourself and pardon me, but learn to love yourself, stop guarding me.

the you in me is swallowing me,
the me in you is always following me, i
don't get how i can forget you're which part of me, *****.

i don't regret but if i could, i know, i would cut you out of me,
go ahead, give a head, see if i have a **** to give instead, for i'm just as dead but let them ghosts shout at me.

end the lie of me, i've had enough to see, and if i cannot be free i cannot be,
there's no end to me. you don't know anything about me.

because it's not about me.

it never was, it was me, i was lost, counting all my flaws, writing down in ink all their laws.

everything that they taught had some thing that was not alright,
but i could not stop because i did not have it in me to fight.

maybe i was a coward but that's how it works when you're used to the night.

the sun is too bright, you're confused by the light and the world, there are no words left to describe your hurt.

and you need somebody to hold you tight but it's just cold and you're old with no one by your side. **** that girl, right ?

the one who did not leave you alive.

left you down to drown into the sound of your screams that you dream every time your mind means to lean on what had been
but is not, because everything else has died. but you,

and you're still being nice. *******. all you care about is you, what about me ?

can't you see ?

i'm pretty, depressed, petty and obsessed with my thoughts suppressed caught in stress and it's hard to digest that i must ingest the mess of my nothingness,

my mind cannot rest, there's a world war going off inside of me, outside i'm lost on me, there's a god but maybe he's not aware of me, can somebody please take care for me ?

**** that, i don't need you here for me, i'm blessed and sold in my serenity, and i feel i must inject my-self with hell, if i want to get rid of me,
just for a moment riddle me, don't tell if can spell what's in-side of me, i'm so usually out-side of me, so foolishly wise of me, to have a doubt when it's not nice of me to trust you to trust me.

there's so much i do not speak, so much inside of me that cannot dream,
i do not sing well, but there's so much to scream, and nothing to tell to anybody.

well, that's not true for everybody, maybe i'm afraid, what my mama will say,
what papa will say, when i'll be nobody on my way, sitting in hell, meeting everybody.

but again what's in the name if it's just a game and the dream is the genie in us

Ingenious, that clever man is heinous, completely outrageously mental genius.

Identify at once
The words jumble in my throat
Retribution shock
Governing by my ticking clocks
Spewing wind to fill the sails

Empty boats
Floating down
Glinding along gilded banks
Wheat can seldom feed a soul
Only bloat the burdend mind

How does the horizion break?
When did all my buds bloom
Long into the night
And slowly wither away
But never die

Change is mine
And when it comes to me
My will I cannot abide
There will be no sacrifice
I live my life by the dimmest light

The words I could speak
To blow it out
Flowing over the tip of my tounge
But Seldom ever spoken
Silence is golden

And the danger may be closer than it appears
And you'll never know if the end is near
And the ones i loved, cherished and relied most heavily upon
Can slip god through my viens...

And yet the new ones
The immitators I've neglected
Seldom speak to me, irony a bitter curse

And up untill this day, and onwards down the current
the words still escape me

Can't you ******* fear, my darling dear?
Isn't that the reason you're even here?
In your eyes, I disappear.
I'm sorry, who am I again?

You know, there's been a lot of talk about identity
What parts you have your skin tone whether or not you're the heir to a throne what's wrong with us? Why are we so fixated on division and not inclusion? We're not all Tom Clancy but can you answer me this... why is the word division even in our language? Why can't we transition from an ice cube tray to a melting *** is why this was written?
Can we as one act as one? Love as one? Protect as one before we divide ourselves from 0 and become irrational? Or can we get on one accord and work for the betterment of us all?

so many different ones
that i chance to wear
so many that i have
decorated with care

there's my angry
for my stress
and my anxious
for my work
and my happy
for my friends
and my golden
for my family

sometimes they get stuck
and i cant get them off
and have to just keep acting
until i've forgotten
the face that lies underneath

Do I write Poems?
Or do I plagarize his mind.

Do I press a jagged pen
Williningly into his tortured flesh?

Do I own these words?
Are they on lease from his screams?

Do I lock the door?
With his pounding to be freed?

My body, my mind
If you don't like it get out

Your words are nightmares
I suppose we both are prisoners