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Leal Knowone Apr 2015
I am nothing without this thing called spell check
I have nothing on many of yours education
and many of yours upbringing
and I envy most of your elegance
but I will continue to speak from my heart
hoping you hear me, and hoping you do the same
Akemi Sep 2014
Wilt my lungs
I’ll breathe in bitter bloom
And fill my chest with concrete tombs

At twenty one I exhaled tar
And covered my birthday cake

Ribs for the skyline
This city built a church round my heart
Before some gutter punks spray painted the side of the stained glass
With the suicide rates of middle-class citizens

Nothing has been the same since

When I was young
I was raised on Disney
And taught that my bones were living things

At thirteen years old
I nestled a heart within the clouds and smoke of my chest
It suffocated to death

I’ve never broken a bone
But I’ve trailed plenty of marrow
3:03am, September 14th 2014

Naivety is a killer, and we are so very brittle.
Akemi Aug 2014
Bright and cavalier
You wring out your neck
With heavy hands

Show me a tongue without an anchor
Glistening eyes without glamour
Are you filled empty
With crowd mentality?

Your swell of bitter laughter
Is cruelty incandescent as fire
10:08pm, August 14th 2014

To people who accept only what they've been brought up to believe, and reject conflicting ideals by reflex.
drownitout Jun 2014
So all rights and homage belong to god,
But who would want this body after they've left it to rot.
I've got a wicked set of morals,
And the baggage to match,
So before he cut the call the devil stated, "What a catch."

Rip the nails from your hands and hop off the cross,
We could use the wood.
Choke down your pride you ******* product with a cost,
A martyrs blood's a wasted good.


I can't keep the plug in the jug,
At least you can keep the change.
You can have the family love,
I'd rather trade it for the chains.

Does this pain you? Is this really pain?
Does this pain you? Is this really pain?

Bottom-feeder, bottom-feeder-
The garden burns as does the seeder,
Suicide swings along the feeter on the highway to hell, but I'm a nonbeliever.
So you have your book and you've built your towers,
But does your faith constitute strength or does it make you a coward?


I've been to a hundred holy places,
Heard a thousand sermons,
But most I value all the learning that I gained from all my searching.

Certain death, it's certain death, it's what they told me would happen if I got up and left,
And sure I'm troubled, I struggle, and I'm not the best,
But I'm sure there exists better answers than this.

Because what is a life,
To be governed by some verses that we can't know are right?
And you tell me that my faith is weak,
But you ignore any options, shut me down, and just claim deceit.

I want a refund, here's my receipt, because if I must bow down to something angry at me,
Then I might as well just off myself,
I'd rather die on my feet that survive on my knees.

I say all this, not out of spite, not out of resentment, I'm not mad at life.
I'm just stating that it could be something more, something else,
Than a choice between heaven or hell.


You wanna save me? But is this really saved?
Is there something wrong with who I am? Or will this god only love me if I change?

Is that it? Am I not enough to work? It's a concept I've struggled with since birth,
And if He's there and I don't have a choice, then why won't He answer,

**I've never heard a voice.

— The End —