I cannot keep this
This fruitless ache
This pounding in my head

There go my blades
At their works
****** arts!
Sign the dotted line in blood
Your blood!

We try to bleed it out!
each droplet an hour of agonies
crimson muck
We cried but in vain
This depressive, this manic
This open raw wound
to which everyone spits in
For tis that which they doth not see
Oh so blind to!

Therapies, forsooth! a worthless pastime
Clonazepam, Quetiapine
Dampen the mood, quieten the voices

A mind torn asunder
for of winter snow
and summer thunder
a body I do plunder
to rip out these demons
exorcise these ghouls
claw out these ghosts

This cannot be glorified
it is not beautifully broken
but tearing oneself apart
to remove the ashes in my head

Borderline personality disorder
Post traumatic stress disorder...

I've realized that I love hard
In the moment I can suffocate love
before it has even been born.
I rush in, in fear of loosing it.
And when they knock me back
I fall apart.
I can say that I'm strong all that I want but I'm not
and even this is just playing the victim
oh woe is me oh woe is I
suffocating love before it can cry.
oh woe is we oh woe is us...
or is it just me that cant see when enough is enough

I went down to the land of woe
Where all the selfish people go
They all set around a banquet table
But to eat they just weren't able
Glorious food was all abound
Eagerly at that table they all sat around
But the forks and spoons where a mile long
They all cried, "this is unfair and wrong"
Try as the might
They couldn't get it right
Some where dying of hunger
They couldn't get the food to their mouths, they where going under
They couldn't  figure out how to eat
It seems this life has them beat

              Meanwhile

Just across the river nine
This is what you'll find
It's the exact same scene
Glorious food, it's so serene
They all set around a great big table
Same long utensils, but to eat they are able
Can you imagine what the difference is
Why they can eat and live like this.....................

It's a lesson we all should learn
So by ourselves we don't get burned
It's as simple as thinking of others
For my friend, they feed one another

Just have a little bit,
To get you through the night.
Just have a little bit,
To be able to see the light.

Your heart is weary,
And your head hurts,
But know in your soul,
That this isn't the worst.

Listen to the advice,
Try your best,
And know that,
Soon the universe will answer those prayers.

It takes us to wither,
to weather,
To finally rest.
Wonders appear,
as we worsen,
to better,
Our scores on this test.
And to wit,
It is always played out of turn,
A game of cards turned to chance;
As we wend our willed way
Through life and romance.
When weary, we wander
And yet ask nothing new-
Wiping our worried wrinkles with care-
Hoping,
for just a few
Quiet minutes,
for us to stem and stew
As we hug our trappings,
And wipe our wrappings away-
To unwind,
decompressing-
At the end of our day.
Weird,
That the turmoil and tremors that threaten on the hour;
The problems compounding
The alarum bells sounding
The lessons resounding -
The things that turn our world sour;
That without these wild warfronts,
These savage frontiers,
We'd never be better,
And reap nothing from these years.
A quick, quiet musing
I present then,
in humble contemplation;
If we do not learn from change,
How then,
do we improve our station?

This is the word whose cries echoes in the well of my soul.
A desperate calling in the darkness overcome with hopelessness.
A pleading of defiance against all that has been done un-rightly so.
The last sound of innocence and its unheard scream in the night.
Its last word being rejection of the world's cruelties.

No.

Waiting Still for Tomorrow

Deafening tone,
Makes me not alone,
Continually singing a sorrow.
Bring not today,
For I beg keep away,
That lament until Tomorrow.

It whispers so loud,
“You are lost in the crowd,
Lost in a sea of harrow.”
It’s censure grew — strewth!
Mocking my sad truth,
Threatening what follows Tomorrow.

I attempt to evade —
Stopped by a palisade,
Yes, stopped by a wall of yarrow.
Plucking mere few,
Intent to make new,
My wounds and be healed by Tomorrow.

“Sweet yarrow await,
I shall be kept late,
By that tormentor who inflicts sorrow,”
But yarrow soon will fade,
Leave my mind in the shade, and
My heart waiting still for Tomorrow.

I am hopeless.

stuck.

between love and lust.

And you

are the object of my desires.

sadness, my dear

I cry these tears

only for you.

Our bodies

intertwined

in a dance of sin.

Your words

entice me

as the drugs

and alcohol

begin to kick in.

My mind

is your playground.

My body,

is yours to break down.

I am falling

but you

are always there to catch me.