hey
how are you?
i want to say
that i'm sorry.
i know that
me telling you
that i'm sorry
wouldn't change anything.
but i haven't heard from you
since the last time we talked,
which was 2 months ago.
there were a lot of things
that reminded me of you.
i wanted to tell you right away,
but i knew i would just bother you.
i miss you.
i'm sorry.
please call me back.

Put your
Hands up its a stick up
And I'll pull a trigger if you don't let me take the week off
Its my birthday and I'm so ******* sick of
All your **** so I'll lock down and blow your **** off
Put your
Hands up its a stick up
And I pray that this is the way its supposed to be love
Cause if I go ahead and pull this tigger
We might lose everything that you and me was
So I
Show off and blow off
All that steam I have boiling in my colon
I am me, so why the hell would I be somone
Else you think that I will live doubt but
All my wounds are filled with cigarettes and alcohol
So yes indeed
I feel that this little blow up
Is owed to me for eating all of yoyr **** up
So do me favor
***** your behavior
I'm no saviour
I'm here to make you
Put your
Hands up
Its a stick up...

how death can be so beautiful to one
bringing peace
and joy
freedom from this world of hell

this illusion death gave
to ease one's suffering
he desired it so much
that he killed himself

blossoms bloom as the Rose's petal make mess

the greediness of the boy
may have given him a new world to dance
but everything comes with a price
a sin was committed upon his death

a whole new world of pain
and emotional suffering
brought to those who surrounded
the withering, red Rose
for they wanted it to grow with them

instead they weeped for the deceased
and crowded around their friend
his family losing mentality
as they stare at the gun the corpse was holding

chaos brewed
cataclysm loomed

"what happened to our beautiful creation
did i not try hard enough
the kids are crying
im crying"

"why."

mother stares at son
then his petals
his beautiful petals
im sorry

knife at the table
wanting to justify her unjust actions towards him
and make it all even again
so then maybe
he can
forgive her

and another beautiful flower
loses its petals
to the grand illusion
of death.

Looking down the corridor I see a
door that's being held open for a
man who wears two eye patches, a
frown seen somehow in the dark
outline of his silhouette-

I don't get how he's doing that, what? huh?

Tearing through the crowd of men looking down
I see a dent in the ground and I
narrowly step to avoid the
hollow tile, my eyes widen
I realize that he's gone-

Why was this man walking blind so strangely?

Then I see, everyone has left this place
I pace looking for a space to see
just how everyone has left me, I
can't fathom what magic, where,
where does this corridor lead?

The door reads: "To my friends I left behind."

How asinine.

He walked along my path.
He wasn't expected.
A variable I had never calculated.
His heavy, confident footsteps shifted the sands of my mind
And I find that not everything makes sense anymore.
I'm always covered in blood.
Sometimes it's mine. Sometimes it's not.
But he makes me feel alright about it.
All the time.

He stood in my way.
I had seen him around before.
I had never thought to speak to him, until then.
His precise, light footsteps left a mark in the mud of my mind
And I'm left surprised, shocked, uncomprehending.
He's always covered in blood.
He concerns me, scares me,
But he has a twinkle about him that leaves me wanting more.
And so I took it.

Sometimes I crave to write just to feel my keyboard brush against my fingertips
I agree with their word of choice with the press of a comma
A small betrayal when they rewrite our secrets

But I crave that deep ache that turns my bones brittle
That heartbreak plea for more when the space bar sings

"No more," My tongue pleas

But the stories are tangling around my body like a noose
the stitches in my skin are reopening with the press of a button
and at last, I feel free.

_________

"What have you done."

Pressing save with a confidence the tongue will always lack.

"Something you should've."

I don’t know who I am anymore.
I look in the mirror and don’t recognize whoever is staring back.
I don’t remember the last time I saw myself there.
It must’ve been a long time ago.
I keep asking “what have you done with me?”
Or “what have you done with him?”
But I only get a question for an answer.
Somewhere in my travels, somewhere along the way.
Me and myself stopped, and I guess I decided to stay.
So please help me find him if you could,
I only know the name, I just can’t remember the face.