i’ve gotta rewire some things inside me
not in the right headspace to take life on right now
without a little extra help from those around and before and inside me

i’ve gotta release some demons, exorcise me
keeping them bottled up for so long, they’ve
got other people’s hands all over me, shaking things up
a prisoner to my own hidden feelings , i’m ready to burst

want to get it out, once and for all
not be trapped inside any longer

a bunch of secrets bouncing around my bones
like stubborn trespasser(s)

i
mold
meld
melt
molt

i find myself lost in us again
wrapping your& words around me like a hug
falling in love with this cosmic entanglement
watched us bloom in times of turmoil
and
i'm just so happy to be home, finally

only true poets listen to the voices in their heads

I wanted to die tonight
Death screams louder than promises
I use to dance around the dream of me
Now I drown in the reality
How loud can you scream until it becomes silent
Can anyone hear me?

can you hear the voices
shouting out of nowhere
always saying live or die

don't listen to the others
walking on forever
blindly till they fall

I listened to the river’s babbling,
her competing voices,
none winning, none getting ahead,
ahead of the next bend, the next meander,
a departure from the mainstream,
taking the conversation in a whole new direction -
leaving the lies behind
and the truth high and dry,
to be banked, baked crisp and brittle, crunched
to dust under a heavy rockfall of doubt and disinterest.
But I listened still, for the following chorus,
the next controversy.

I didn't need to wait long - the new river babbled...

The silver glinting edge shines inches away
It's like un itchable scratch
An unquenchable thirst
An unsatisfyable hunger
It's so close
It beggs to consumed
It beggs be drowned in crimson pain
It beggs to eat away the perfect canvas
It's so close
Just one more
Just one more
Just one more
It's so close
A sighlent voice only I can hear
"You could do it you know"
"It wouldn't be that hard"
It's so close
It's begging makes me cave.

When someone close to me
Leaves me a voice mail after a missed call,
I don't erase them.
Because I'm worried that one day
They'll all be gone.
And all I'll have
Are their voices.

I lay me down
to rest
the words enter my head
pushing and shoving
like children in a lunch queue
tiny scary voices
with an utterance of an idea
I feel compelled to put
pen to paper
I've either written
some great words
or wasted a lot of trees
I'm still clueless
but the nightmares continue
and I keep talking
inside a head
as empty as a warehouse