Like that old sweater
In the back of your closet,
You know the one I'm talking about;
It was your favorite,
You wore it all the time,
And it may not fit right anymore,
But you can't get rid of it,
Well, because it was your favorite
For all these years,
There are so many memories
Tied to that sweater.
And maybe not all of them are happy,
Or make you smile when you wear it,
But it hold the secrets and scars of your past,
So you have to keep it, naturally.
But every time you take that sweater
From the back of your closet to see
If it matches your outfit,
And you decide,
Maybe not today,
You see the faded color,
You see the memories,
And you know, just like your sweater,
You're wearing thin.

Like a bird whose wings are broken,
You are the one that couldn't follow the motion.
You can't fly like the others,
Nor you can blend in with their feathers.

Some part of you accepted that you can't fly,
That you like it down here ; being different.
But at times you just wondered why,
What is it about you that made you insignificant.

-HIY

A broken soul
Never knowing which way to go
Constantly being cut to the bone
With edges honed
Cutting up a life force
That went so horribly off course

No one can love the shattered
Their broken pieces are to tattered
Get to close they **** and splatter
No place to step they are to scattered

One that lives a life in shards
Will never, ever put down thier guard
So they live a life alone
Love ever fleeting, or never known

Sadly only love can heal, it's what their needing
As they sit there hollowed eyed and bleeding

My soul is tattered
Nothing matters
It's all just clatter
Of a life that's shattered

Muddy and muddled
My brain is befuddled
Twisted and bent
Life wasn't heaven sent
Battered and bruised
Only ever been used
Torn and tattered
Now nothing matters
Diced and sliced
By life's ****** knife
Crushed and ground
Nothing to be found
Drowning in pain
Not quite sane

On the verge of suicide
Who would really care if I died
No one thats who
I just want to be through
A few might cry reflecting on there own lifes
But no tears for me, I was just a passerby
If I just disappeared would anybody notice
I'm counted among the hopeless
So very friendless
My life is meaningless
This life plays on my weakness
I am no longer fearless
I live in constant darkness
I'm sinking into the great abyss
And this tattered life I will not miss
So swallow down these pills I might
I'm really tired of this fight
The demons are gonna win this one
The voices I couldn't over come
It's to hard to fight them off alone
So the darkness has just grown
It was companionship that I craved
Don't leave any flowers on my grave

What’s it to me and what’s it to you
I’m not quite sure I understand
I don’t think you know what you mean and mean what you know, you know?
Or maybe you do.

I’m sure things all make sense
In that brain of yours where stop means go
What’s left and right and up and wrong who really knows?
And a life in someone’s footprints might as well be their shoes.

It’s all *******, all of it! I’m sure you can agree
the world most centrally certainly couldn’t shouldn’t be what it seems!
Because I’m not so sure I can shake that off, you know?
Face value is always much less than it oughtta be.

spent and worn and
tattered and torn
is what i feel
this particular day.
i hope and wish
and mourn
that my muse
has temporarily
gone away...
wondering when
if ever (I hope)
i will feel like
writing it all out
once again
hoping soon
my words will come back
and that the silence
and darkness
will not win.