I been born to lack.
Self inflicting heart attack.
I been born to mourn my death.

I'm a plague dressed in disguise
A brooder of everything in sight.
I been born to mourn my death.

Don't bother to please.
You'll find I need no sympathy
I'm a swamp that takes body heat.

When you're in my morass trap,
You'll find anxiety tracks.
It's a disheartening,
Meglo-mockery.
Oh, Mephisto please.
Why do I do this to you my marsh queen?

Oh, I don't take, I steal.
Hearts, time and self esteem are a good meal.
Don't have any aches for me
I was born to mourn my death.

I must seem like a mystery
With dirt prints I leave behind every scene.
Taking you deep into a quagmire of negativity.

I been born to lack.
It's not my fault you got trapped.
But you were warned before,
I was born to mourn my death.

freedom doesn't lie
in the collectives cages,
but stands with the choices
individuals make,
to avoid being caught in them.

A sneaky rat and a little gecko
Both lived in a family house
The little gecko always greeted the family
The sneaky rat always stole their food

The family loved the little gecko
Because it was cute and kind
The family hated the sneaky rat
Because it kept creating a mess

They set a trap for the rat
Hoping that they could get rid of it
But the sneaky rat was clever
And told the gecko to get the food from the trap

The little, innocent gecko stepped on the trap
And the sneaky rat ran away
Even the family couldn't help the little gecko
Now it is trapped there forever.

There are too many things untold,
too many to let anything unfold,
it's trapped in it's own trap,
distracted by it's own call,
If I'd help
I'd rather do nothing at all
because my nothing is
always at my beck
and call.

Even as I lay asleep,
I find the darkness of mine,
stirring beneath,
the inky dark taking hold
and I find nothing,
nothing at all.

Her hair smelled of roses, her body curvy in places.
We've been together for months, a destination was set.

I arrived at her house, it was all quiet
Her parents had left us all by ourselves

I unbuckled my pants, she pulled down her *******.
It was standing *****, my glue stick was ready.

I grabbed hold of my stick, and she grabbed hers.
Wait, what?
My girlfriend's a dude?

There are other worlds, they whispered
One hands me a cage, I'm his bird
I left myself in there to die
An eagle without wings can't fly
Think of new worlds within these walls
But never leave to see them all
Never know the way they did fall
Just eat your seeds, my tired dear

I feel trapped
Though I'm not
I'm free as a bird
Soon to be shot

I can't breathe
It seems I'm trapped
Yet there's no latch
That I can clasp

Invisible forces
Cage me still
I am free
But not from myself.

My mind is empty, passive, yet filled with chaos from the past.

Afraid to feel again, to give in.

Scared this is another trap.

What can I give him that no one else can? Why me?

Is there another hidden agenda?

I can't resist his words, yet they scare me to death.

It's like a love song I wanna play on repeat,
but still wishing that the record would break.

Before I do.

the dress is lying still
on her hips
but not at rest
a tight caress
that stalks in wait
proxy to the prey

It glows warm on her breast, polished
symbol of her life attachments,
subtly marking loving passion,
needing no flashing sparkling zest.

Once the scent of ancient pine,
gooey, enticing insect trap,
transluscent shroud for their remains,
since washed ashore between those
sheer, crumbling, shortbread cliffs.