Wrapped up with the sky,
He said it speaks to us with words,
in the form of empty storms.
But the clouds don't shower thoughts
they only crowd the morning dew,
and the broken jukebox birds.
The chatter reminds me of my noisy efforts.
There was a time I said little-
"Don't trust the quiet ones."
They are the fools who believe in the blues and the sunsets,
sleep little and dream of promise.
Comfort brought me to speech
to explain the thunderstorms outside my windows
to shake off the dew his clouds
crowded in my chest
and the broken jukebox birds in my throat.
Yesterday he said I smelt like home.
The familiar scent of pillows and cover-
warm things in winter.
Campfire cinders.
Smoldered once in quietude-
burning with desire.
If my lips don't sound-
maybe I can hear the rumble of his clouds.
Maybe I can listen to his blues.
Watch his sunset in smoldering quietude.
Maybe he'll speak to me with words.
Or maybe he'll just rain on me
thoughtlessly.

Are you truly that thoughtless?
Or quite simple, just the same?
Can’t you see the blatantly undeniable?
Recurrent actions in centuries passed?

In your hollowed, tenebrous whole
Manifestation of isolation
Is there not a more evident proof
You’re a pillar of others’ melancholy
For your awful reclusion and great lack of communication...

I'm in such a vulnerable state,
My mind wanders.
My thoughts are grand, but not for the better.
I can feel my feelings tarnish and fade away like this body of mine had never been a home to any emotions roaming around in this hollow space.
It is as if they were lost but never found…

Thinking before you speak is a big thing in life. Always think before you speak. If you don't, you may hurt the wrong person or people.

If you say something without thinking because you just want to snap back at someone real fast, you may hurt the person you love the most just by the stupid response you didn't think about.

Her head disintegrates
Like the end of a cigarette
Falling into the wrinkles
And folds
Of my skin

You stood there
In the hills
Looking down at the
City
And I stood there
As the trees
Blocking your
Vision
And when I tried
To speak
You silenced me for
the wind
Shriveling roots
Holding me in
And the ground below you
Started to quake
As the forest before you
Withered away

Deathshaker
Twenty one years
Crossed hearts and hoped to never die
Slept crooked, and woke deaf and blind
With pins and needles through the chest
And foot, and mouth, and ******* head

Deathshaker
Twenty one years
To wake to dust and rot and ache
To once loved noises, long replaced
By crushing silence, bitter debts
To lovers long dead

Hold yourself higher than the sky
To watch all you love die
When you go seeking infinite wisdom
You lose more than one life
Every second in this endless void
Gives the earth fragility
And all those who choose to stay
Become specks you brush aside
There’s no dust that can rise this high
And when you breathe in clarity
You realise that the smoke and fog
Was necessity to feeling alive
A perspective without cold calculating
Thoughts that cause you to writhe
Building yourself a celestial throne
You become a suicidal God
With no friends to guide you
And no heart anymore