There is so much unaccounted for.
Is it strange to feel so alone.
Yet still feel jumbled around
In some tastless concoction
That is more and more bitter with ever sip.
This worlds populace just smears into little ice cube trays waiting to be misunderstood.
Made to represent a whole while still maintaining some sort of murky sense of self beneath the surface.
And as more time goes on.
One can't help but meld into the weave.
No more than a ripple in a puddle.
And what was just a pond just moments before.
Has morphed into a chasm to rival the steps to hell.
And it's these stone pillars that has conditioned any who pass.
Forever riding this grotesque escalator in the wrong direction.
For even when this body is beyond broken.
An unseen pupeteer tugs at the noiseless chains.
Sheer will is all that's left to keep consciousness.
But then again.
Who's to say this is a choice either.
Demented or dementia...

I read my past poems
and think to myself
how childish I was
to write about someone
I thought mattered.

I read my past poems
and think to myself
how was I proud of this work?

I read my past poems
and think to myself
how much has changed.

I read my past poems
and I think to myself
the person I wrote about before
has changed
into you.

I read my past poems
and think to myself
is that what’s going to happen to us?

I read my past poems
and think to myself
are you worth starting over?

I read my past poems
and think to myself
that this is all a waste of my time
but I do it for you anyway.

Give me your youth, feed me your time
You've come to me first, but now you are mine

Feed me your story, give me your mind
Is there any more that you'd like me to find?

Now get in line, can you see all the eyes?
They're only expecting the best of your lies

Why make it work, when you can just go?
When red and blue mix, I don't like it so

Loved ones who care? Friends who would stay?
Whatever, it's not like you need them anyway

Just play with me some more, get into me deeper
I am after all, your only way to a keeper

Look at the lot of them, so happy and proud
You should march along, no dissent allowed

Matrices and columns is all that I know
Now just you wait for the ****** of my show

All of them are hooked, changing as they go
This perverted gallery soon is all they know

You think this might be bad, but it's just a taste
A mind is a beautiful thing to carelessly waste