Focus your attention somewhen else.
The somewhom you remember
is gathered dusty on the shelf.

Some other time.
A phrase some good, mostly bad.
Focus on the times in which you  had.

**** it. Keep in time, in the then,
forget the now and the soon to be when.
Get lost. *******.
Pout about it until you deign to sin.

Forget yourself.
Earn your regret.

I've been living in a constant
and catastrophic mental state.
I'm trying to silence my memories.
I need to forget the emotions
That I'm forced to relive.
I've yet to eliminate
Their presence in all I do.
There isn't a single moment
That isn't embraced in nostalgia.
The lyrics in songs I'm unable to delete,
Reanimates it all.
I've used a million different words
To explain what I couldn't.
In the end, I am faced with the reality
That I can't just run.
I can't escape through objectivity and pencil lead,
This time.
All of my unspoken secrets remain,
Slowly clawing away at my sanity.
In remembering where I've been,
I'm killing myself from the inside, out.
I know,
You can't empathize or understand.
And…
I've always known this,
So, it's okay.

Nobody ever really wanted to.
Nobody ever really could.

However...

There exists a deep loneliness
that's rooted in my own deception.
I'm always fighting to be listened to.
Spent weeks painting pictures nobody saw.
I wish someone had just proved me wrong.
Which sounds odd, to anyone else.

I don't want to write
what's never gonna be read.
Why write out the details
of a story nobody wants?
I often wonder -
Even if I am finally opened and read -
Would their understanding
change my story's end?

You've got your head in the clouds.
Your slowing drowning out.
You've spent you're life time stuck in a bubble to conform.
You've been forced to spend the entire time being silenced.
Being shut up, for the hell whom?
Who can know your story if you always shut up and keep quite.
Perfect, you want to be perfect?
Sweetheart you seen a robot I'm sorry to break it to you.
You have feelings treat them as gold.
You know what life feels like. Take that as you're treasure.
Why be stuck in a constant circle of being tossed around but thinking you aren't good enough cause you are actually human. You aren't perfect? No you haven't sold out to the society game. Don't be 'perfect', your wonderful,why become so fearful?
Each person on this world is another stroke of paint on the canvas, we mix well with some,and some just become runny and run through you.
So now, does a butterfly stay in one place for its entire life? Or does it show its color everywhere?-Lovey

We meet like fire and water, bursting into steam
swinging round each other, splitting at the seams
our slowly growing entropy, sees darkness before death
the energy, no sympathy, clutches its last breath.

You fall into my watering eyes,
through dance we somehow stabilise,
the swell between the crashes of the ocean,
the moments underneath the motion.

The stable explosion.

his heart bled into the ground
he held me and whispered
in ****** liquor sighs

go on guapa
as long as there’s one of us
there’s both of us

and I shook like a rabbit
in twilight’s snare
and begged him

don’t go
don’t go

a chant as old
as old
as my bones

together,
once we felt the
earth move

it shook in the late spring morning
and I he warmed my feet
in the sack
when the night was a vacuum

he spilled his seed
on the ground
like some biblical
walk on

and we lived an entire
life
an entire life
in three days

three days of coughing
and struggling to stay still
in the winters dull
and stingy light
from a pale pale
pane in
Indiana

is it safe to
give my _ to you?

It’s never safe,
I roughly handed it to you
and you felt it’s
shadow every since

with your busted femur
and long trailing stain
resenting the self-made
patricide
bleeding out

on the gray beast
I’m taken
the little rabbit
with a black scar

saving myself from
the tangled
mar that you now
have fallen

If I go on
we both go on

In all of the pages that you wrote
There was never once talk of the past
In every single story that was sold
You locked away all stories to be told

All of these letterboxes used to leave me love
All of the hopeful words you could dream of
But now your past is dead
The future wades in your head
To your new self
I say goodbye

Well, should I change? Must I remain?
Should I love you all the same?
March on steady to the beat of that drum
If it’s gonna go- I’m going this way, on this line

All of the people had the notion to speak
All of the words, now so weak
Surrounded now, blank white walls
Paint a life, your world calls
To some motivation
I say hello.

I’ll walk until I think I’ll stop
Rest awhile ‘till you catch up
Put my boots next to the fire
While the body and my mind do conspire

All of the birds would sing their song
Don’t mind at all if I sing along
In a quiet world sound erupts
The chant of choir soon conducts
To this plague of mice-like men
I shed a tear.

Beat, beat on that black-laced drum
The march that gets every man from
A kingdom to a kingdom in the sky
Living in a world of life just waiting to die.

All of the eyes were looking stern
All of my letters have been burnt
Carry coal from that mine
Who knows, he, she, or mine?
And tip my hat to whom it may concern.