Why do we put poison in our minds?
The way we cling to false hope,
The way we watch the TV until we go blind.
Maybe we want to be blind to all that
happens in the world.
Maybe we want to turn blind to our own
sorrow,
So that we don't drown all together.
Why do we put poison in our bodies?
The way we drink until three a.m.,
The way our fingertips burn as we hold the
cigarette that will eventually burn our
bodies, burn our souls.
The clouds of smoke covering our guilt.
Why do we do anything wrong when we
know what we are doing is wrong?
Has the world not been cruel enough that
we inflict pain upon ourselves?
It is an escape, everything really.
Long nights where a cigarette and a glass
of whiskey becomes our lifeline.
Days when we stare off into space.
Lost in a universe we create in our minds,
Or even worse, when we put on that
obnoxious fake smile.
Loneliness eats away our souls, almost
drags us to hell.
Maybe it isn't an escape rather the last trial
that we all suffer together as we share this
big secret and secretly waste away our
lives in moments of solitude.
Moments of solitude we all need,
Not to feel everything but to forget that we
exist and so does our pain, grief, greed,
hatred, hunger, anger and ambition.
Why do we feel the need to die alone?
Why can't we just be?
Everyday I undergo my trial and enjoy the
last supper alone before I sleep,
Hoping and waiting for life.
Because all I ever do is escape.

What will the horizon bring us?
I wonder,
Can you feel my heart?
In dawns of days gone,
In coming eves of twilight;
When I said
I shall always love you,
I meant it.
And days now start
Within a sky where there is no sun,
Within the dark of night, no stars;
Inside of me there is light
All formed from the memories
Of two kids in love, young.
Spiderwebs still entrap
Yet the venom is tapped-
How I wish I was still poisoned.

Dashing, charming,
full of foolery,
She unwinds with legs of poison
sitting still on top the table,
seeping deep into my mind.

The image stains the flesh
and how I wish I could undress
the bottle of her sickly cyanide.

But taste testing pills and potions
made to drowse and **** the roses
are not nearly as sweet as implied.

So I admire from afar
oohing and awing at the bar
staring at the glass
and not taking a bite.

He asks me if
I believe in angels
And before I realize
I don't have the heart
To tell him, I tell him
"Not Lately.."
And just wait
For him to hate me

But he doesn't
Know how to
So he never does
Loving like a man
In the time
Before God gave
Man religion and
Left it to them to
Figure out
What hate was

pain shows no mercy,
it treats you as an enemy
even when you are always holding
a first aid box–
to heals its wounds
it's like a snake biting you back