I'm here for all of you people that are feeling just as tired and exhausted from the saddening madness that I am always getting slapped in the face with. **I am here for you.

Craze driven
   Imperfectly placed
Revised words said yet truth speaking through the veins
  Web of lies tangled in a dishearted brain
  Like a maze
Slip up, trip up, you fall down get up
  Scars eat away at you
    Like a feast
And like a freak you scream and hide
But on the outside you're fine so fine
   Everything is okay as you say
Spinning another thread in your web of lies.

An inflating reverie,
An nostalgic memory,
A far reaching boulevard,
lingering to debacle from
my stumbling and unsteady feet.

The days are long,
But the nights could be longer.
The moon hasn't cast a single fortune smile on me,
But it is nothing there but for the grace of the sun, that I take a trip back to the
             Memory lane.

I hope you miss me as much as I do
I hope you don't go to bed with quivering hands or a distraction to keep your bed warm, or that the only onomatopoeia that remains in your house are empty bottles of alcohol clashing against each other harder than you clash your wrist over the scattering pieces of mirror that still remains on your bathroom wall.
The one you out-layed with your bare knuckles because you're tired of watching your soul bleeding in prepetuum at night.

I know the colour of crimson still remains throughout the dimness, and that the sun never sees you bleeding.
Your fragileness wilts quicker at night time than it does at daytime, and I know the moon laughs at your woe and misery.
It's been months, but I still feel obstacles stuck between my teeth and a wire wrapped around my tongue.
I feel my oralability whisking up into the lusterless sky, and the moon exchanges a hint of death and accomplishment.
Droplets of warm venom streams smoothly down my cheeks, because I remember how you haven't been crying warm tears on my shoulder in a very long time,
And it is no wonder I shiver myself to sleep every night I close my eyes.

See, we're from two completely different scenario's,
You and I.
You engage your suffery into more pain than you're likely to feel, and I allow myself to remember.
The warm, summer nights filled with love and stars.
The nights where I got hom with the light to the porch still glowing brighter than your flaunty appearance I'd acquaint myself with once I step over the treshold
When watching your yellow sundress fluttering in the open wind wasn't as bad as whirling droplets of blood spattering against my mirror reminding me of how you're bleeding from the
Outside,
And I'm bleeding from the
Inside
When we were happy,
        do you remember?

Along rivers of stone, making pictures in the sun
Of giant spider webs, wreathing the skies
Of iron snakes, braiding the lands
Of invisible raven exhaust, intimidating
With every breath, I languish
I yearn for home, away from home

A path of roses, resistance, though trampled
It seems like home is but a vision
Dreaming of a place, soon i’ll be free of this prison
I want to look beyond the pavement
I wrote some notes in the margins, explaining it
Inescapable, this room lacking windows

Children contaminated
The black air holds them in it’s grasp
Robbed of their youth
Long live that sentiment

An abandoned room with a desk full of papers,

A burial site of a teenage unrequited love story.

The dried up pens retired from long hours of cheap labor,

The waste basket choked on raw emotional infatuation.

Cracked, broken picture frames lie helplessly on the floor,

A thousand words without complete sentences.

The light bulb revoked the spotlight on the show,

The stage crew gave up on cutting out paper butterflies.

The microphone, still turned on, awaits for a solo,

Tapping for an approval initiates a spark of interest.

"Testing, testing, testing."

The breath of a hopeless romantic heaves a sigh of relief.

"I'm back, everyone," I announce.

"Embrace the love wounds because I am free."

We all live our lives
Hidden behind the masks we switch out based on who we're around:
Fake smiles for friends and family;
Painful, quiet thoughtfulness for coworkers, employers, and educators;
Horrible secrets we keep from everyone we meet;
From everyone we love

And sometimes, these masks are gorgeous,
Like those you'd see at a masquerade.
Masks that mimic what's really there,
Yet hide it from sight as well.
And everyone who wears these masks
Will look and a mirror and think to themselves:
"Who am I? Why don't I recognize this person reflected back at me?"
It's the mask.

We wear the mask.
We hide behind it.
But when did the mask become us?
When did it become everything we are?
When did these masks start taking control?
Will we let this continue?

When does it stop?