In my mind,
There lives two wolves.
Two distinct voices.
Each telling me to make different choices.
How am I supposed to know which one to pick?
Quite honestly, the stress of it all is making me sick.
Is the right answer instilled in us?
In our heart and in our brain?
Or maybe two voices is all it will take to drive someone like me insane.

In all honesty, there are always going to be people you can't stand. Like the teachers you hate, or political leaders, or just stupid people. But I might as well stop myself from talking about it before getting carried away.

I don't always feel my voice is very subtle, I'm told I'm a very loud person. And that's only true when I want it to be.

I kind of just hate money... and politics, and people, and anything and everything that makes me live up to world standards.

I've got an anger problem, I dream about getting into fights and then I imagine winning and suddenly everybody thinks I'm dangerous.

I should probably tell my sister I love her, but if I'm being honest, I have to tell my other sister I hate her.

I don't know how smart I'm supposed to be, or if I should act like I don't care anymore. If I could shoot up a building, I think I would. Not because I want to.

But because I ---



...


*Nobody ever told me how to put an end to this...

Losing control of the brighter things
that sit and smirk at me as
the twilight immerses itself
in the faint glimmers of reality.
Hold that fractured frigid shock
to myself so tight
it breaks and shatters
vomiting sterilized pom poms
laced with chocolate sticky kisses.
Struck me, Lick me, Luck my
humble circumstances as they dance
on the roof of my mouth
chilly strange deadly
turns to muck in the shmuck
at the corner of my brain.
In one moment I’m there
the next, I’m insane.
Minutes switch by slowly as the
natural drugs kick in
enlightening my sense of well-ebbing stretches
into a glass of string.

Water.
Needed to survive.
Powerful enough to drown.

It can both quench & choke.
Often we suppress it in a comforting 16oz glass.

But sometimes,
Sometimes we find ourselves gasping to be released from the very thing that sustains us.

There's a certain irony to that.
To life.

Our control seeps out between our tight grasp like condensation; rings of unease stain our previously unmarred reality.

As if we have a hope of subduing something so elusive...

Walking through the halls in my mind
Lost and almost out of time
I'm own my own
I walk these halls alone
I hear the screams echo off the walls
I hate these ******* halls
Walking through the broken glass
Made from a shattered past
Lost and on my own
I walk these halls alone
Theres writing on these walls
I can hear their calls
Words I cant comprehend
Oh why wont this end
Searching for a way to escape my cell
Why cant I leave this hell
A hundred people live in these halls
Yet im alone despite them all
There trying to take control
I wont let them steal my soul
Lost and on my own
I wander these halls alone
Bound in chain
Locked away inside my own brain
I cant save myself
But I have no one else
My blood begins to freeze
I wish someone would cure my disease
Its getting hard to talk
I'm losing my ability to walk
Lost and on my own
I wish I didn't walk these halls alone