What is the commotion?
Can't you ******* keep it down?
Deception crawls &
Connivers chisel a network
Into the earth below their brains

& There's nothing you can do, so, please

Try to keep it down.
Identify the signs.
Shut your mouth &
Disengage, or you'll otherwise
Wake the beast - & you don't want that.

Let the covert lie, as they breathe,
& take a note. *******   take a note.

Don't you repeat the mistakes that keep
your mind & your heart wrapped in their affairs,
when the manipulative, & the easily led
certainly won't miss your meat, as they are
well fed in their reciprocal designs.

Don't waste your time.
Like I wasted mine.

Devil is a lie
And he must go
What lyes beneath
It must go

Tricky beast you
Under a robe..
Playing tricks.
With my body under a robe.

In true diguise
I must go
Tricky animal
Under a role.

The girl who cried wolves
has been told too many times
to shut her mouth
that now she is crying her own name
having she herself become
the wolf.

Then he went back thinking there was
still something he could go back to.
But she shut her doors to him.
She was not being selfish.
She just wanted to save herself
from another pain.
She wanted to save her heart
from another sorrow.
And that was the moment
she felt free.

Close my eyes shut with the nails that crucify your hands.

i am loud
yes, i am very loud
i have been told by many people
to shut up
to stop talking
to quit being so. ****. loud.
it's who i am
i've always been loud.
maybe it's because i was the youngest child
and it was difficult for my voice to be heard if i didn't raise it,
or maybe because in a group of friends
my story was never listened to,
instead it was talked over
so maybe i'm loud
but i'd rather be loud
than never be heard

As we fall into sleep we wish to dream,
To be taken away from reality.
Abandon the worries of everyday
Our eyes fall shut and we fade away.
Brains spark- stimulated by creativity
Our eight-hour world is filled with ambiguity.
An instance in an upside-down park
Where the water flows up and the sun is dark.
Or maybe on a decrepit moon.
A safari ride.
A storm’s eye.
Or a plain in June.
Wishing to stay, but knowing to leave
Adventure cut short, yet we do not grieve.
Eyes flash open, unaware
Of the joyous, the cheerful, the nightmare?