I lost you.
(All my own fault)

You left me.
(All my own fault)

I tried to get you back.
(I failed)

I thought you would forgive me
And come back.
(You didn't).

You hate me now.
Or probably I'm simply not worth remembering.

Now I bleed.
Now I bleed.
Now I bleed...

The river only reflects a mute scene
for it does not hear the crackle of flames,
nor the screams being choked on by smoke
while tree limbs crash down in a heated blaze
because it can only observe this sight
and feel like it is useless against a
fiery beast.

I'm not broken
Stop telling me I am for as much as I know I shouldn't
I might start to believe you
And break my own **** heart again

Like an arrow shot in the sky
the world has become a pool of obsolete people and danger
With nothing but useless words
bouncing back and forth

I will never be **** again,
At least never seen,
You know it's kind of funny,
That's my personal dream.

LUCKY ME

But I'm all alone, society kills,
All I do is wait and watch,
The grassy green, the blackened hills,
The warzone and it's total loss.

But I'll just "shower in my clothes,"
Or move out when I have no support,
I'll be a misery and no one knows,
Cares about why I'm so forlorn.

Time passes, set my nudist free,
So I'll no longer have to live
In this banged up pos society.

If I had a dime for every poem or song I wrote
That never made it, I'd be a millionaire,
If I had to survive by my own creations,
Be my own boss, I'd be a total dead scare.

My heart was always
in the wrong place.
The things that didn’t
matter at all,
I gave them my all.
I wasted so much energy on
useless pish.
Terminal friendships.
Unsalveagable projects.
Lost causes.

I used up so much of my time,
hoping that I could fix them,
like a lost child
trying to stop a burning house.
A stranger stuck outside in the rain
without an umbrella or a jacket.
But sometimes, you just have to
put the water bucket down,
stop looking for shelter,
and give up.

The rain wears on
your limestone skin
as umbrellas are held
off your center by granite others.

I extend a hand
as if you weren't 20 miles deep.
Advertise a cure
and deliver smoke to gasping lungs under the guise.

In this tenebrific atmosphere
I claim to be brave while clinging to my torch.
Endless succorance performed
and answers given from behind glass and across telephone lines.

I only know of the place
where the pace is kept
to the time of constant mizzle.
Perhaps I could spot it on a map, from far away.

How is one in the Fourth
to help another in the Third?
Folly to believe I could stop the bleeding.
Laughable when the scarless comment on how to suture.