As kinetic chaos surges,
Each atom flings outward,
From my marrow’s middle,
Toward the gates of my skin.

The brittle shell
holding me together
Threatens to burst,
While the entropy
pinging down my limbs
commands me into motion.

Boiling toward a peak within,
the cigarette clenched in hand
Becomes my means to bleed it.

Here, I’m still waiting on the rising,
But again, I go fading out of sight.
I guess, to you, it must be surprising,
How I was gone before sparks ignite.

Blowing- free flowing- in your direction,
Cut short by a sudden change in wind,
Gusts trade vision with my projection.
Reversing in confusion- now I rescind.

For it’s you who holds my attention,
But by a selfish means of protection,
Had me leaving before a storm began.
I can see I was creating a rejection
But there really wasn’t even a plan.
My patterns of impulse and projection
Regrettably have led to your doubt,
And damage to a wholesome connection.
I admit- I reeled you in, I spit you out.

But I didn’t mean to be deceiving-
I’m just a little abandoned and abused
Was never good with people leaving,
Sorry I left you bruised and confused.

Wash your hair
Pretend to care
Sit and stare
That feelings there

Her lips often leave a mark
       on my cheeks, or in the shoulders
       of my white-clean-shirt,
       and I like it, dearly much..

       but could I have it
       in my lips instead?...



       -ManInBlack

Inside the insane asylum,
That I go to five days a week.
Straightjacket tight,
I can barely breathe.
Listening to all the inmates,
Contemplating all their mistakes,
I can’t even sleep.
They continuously repeat,
The same lines over and over again.
When is my reprieve?
Better be soon, before my mind turns to a ruin.
“Blah, blah, blah.”
That’s all I hear.
Their voices, drowning out,
Every other peaceful sound.
“Blah, blah, blah, blah.”
I feel the blood flow from my ears,
As I look to the ground,
And fade into the background.
Can’t believe I still have a couple years.
When I break free, will my fears control me?
Sometimes it feels like I’m surrounded by,
Sheep that would just follow the crowd,
Till they died.
Am I going crazy…?
Or is it just all hyperbole…?

Optimism can be,
Very much fulfilling, or,
Exhaustingly bland.

Pessimism makes a,
Darkened cloud cover up the,
Shining, blinding Sun.

Cynicism blurs the,
Line between friend or foe 'cause,
Everyone’s corrupt.

Altruism means that,
I should help others without,
Pondering the cost.

I always find it funny,
How some people relish judging,
Others, when their own lives aren’t,
Perfectly pristine.
Would it be so hard,
To keep those thoughts within?
Instead of putting another down,
With foolish whims.
Who are you to decree,
What’s morally okay,
Or what’s socially acceptable,
When you’re broken in your own way?
Stay in your bubble,
Sometimes it’ll keep you out of trouble.
If your life is a mess,
Then I don’t need you telling me how to live mine!
But, I digress…