As i sleep
I am on the cloud
Above the desert
As i read til midnight
The moon lights up my
Book
And not sprays
Mist to cool me off

I suppose i was confined to darkness
For a wee bit of a time.
But they say the light comes,
The things change,
And the darkness loses.
And maybe it is true.
But i wonder if darkness
Really loses to the light.
Then why it always leaves a shadow behind?

Just how long must one decay.
Before enlightment knocks.
There must be a more sensible way.
Than merely staring at a sign.
"Under Construction".
Filling up the time with duplicates.
Hanging them to corresponding sites.
One for growing up.
A few for responsibilties.
Or just one to cover life In general.
Would it seem too ironic not to even finish the sign..
Or maybe just pesimism.
There are just too many negative adjectives to choose from.
With hands stained red from paint and blood.
One would be hard pressed to touch anything more.
Perhaps this is epifany in the making.
But to reach out to turn the pages
Means the story has yet to conclude.
So does remaining immobile.
Strip away existence.
Or just stall the darkness a bit more..
Either way.
The protagonist still draws breathe.
It is just a matter of how many more pages.
Until the last is drawn.

When the time comes
I'm definitely outtie
I'm not spending any more time miserable
How much time have I wasted being that way?
Years and years
Hiding my deepest fears
But still getting  nowhere
Now I'm inching to greatness
By myself

"sober or drunk, it's always you" it's always you always you always you always you you you you you you you you you you "you're in my veins, you ****" you ******* ******* ******* ******* **** me over and over and over and every time i look at your face world war iv starts in my stomach, to punch or to kiss. iv lines in my arms, in my veins, just like you, you ******* ******* ******* absolute **** i cannot ******* believe i fell for your tricks, the 'it's always you" and the pretty words that created mt. vesuvius all over again in my shallow, sober heart. i was absolutely ******* drunk on your fake affection while you were ******* other girls for fake affection and my friends knew and while you were in my veins (you still are) they were under my skin with the patronizing "sympathy" as i cried after you left. you left and it felt like molten lava on my skin, like nothing could be right because you left because i'd put other things on my skin and if you were in my veins (you were. you are.) then i really truly did let you out with the other things i put on my skin that opened up my veins and it honest to god is my fault you're gone. honestly, god, i think it was a little unfair to make me fall in love with the boy who's smile left like fault lines and i was so terribly drunk in the beginning but you sobered me up when you left, isn't that right? isn't it right that it's my drunken fault that you left, but you see, my dear, it's always you, in my veins, you ******* ******* absolute ****