There is a storm setting in and the current shifts from ceiling to ground
We run with scattered brains, with our mouths stitched shut, running without a sound. Fear lives in the hearts of men and fear isn’t the best company to keep. So I hold my shield grip my sword ready to face what hits me. Battles come and go some remain in history teaching generations to come the failures and the victories. Misery loves company but I rather weep and wallow on my own, darkness is my only friend and in the infinite silence we merge as one. I embrace the wicked deep inside of me, the soul is meant to be explored and non of us come with manuals or warning signs, so i dive into the abyss of my reality exhuming blood and bone, exploring realms unknown. We are black and white with tiny shades of grey but if we dig deeper we might find something else, something out of sight, out of mind. As dual beings we are made with sin and integrity but it matters not what we are constructed by what matters is our choices and who we choose to be. When our time runs out and the tide swallows us whole it matters not the vessel but the soul. We are children of day and children of night, we are duality darkness and light.

Nights like this i'm surrounded
but the loneliness has never been worse.
their words mean nothing
it's all static in my head.
I zone out and i can't tell
what's real and what's fake anymore.
and when they laugh the humming
in my head gets louder
and my heart beats faster,
till all the lines are blurred.
they're all around me and i feel nothing
i sink and i sink so deep that the
surface is covered with marks
of me clawing myself out
only to fail so miserably that drowning
is something i do with ease.
night's like this i'm surrounded
but they don't mean **** to me.
even though i'm surrounded
I will always wander back to you.

He saw me like an art enthusiast would see his favourite painting,
complex but mesmerising. He didn't see the darker strokes as insipid,
he looked at them as real, he loved the truth, as ****** up and nauseating as it can be. i lay next to him every night, covered in a pool of my insecurities gnawing at me, a constant reminder '' you will never be enough''. i loved him in the kind of way in which i loved to get high, he made me stop thinking, he made me numb to all my demons but eventually i come down and when i do i hate him. i hate the way he looks at me eager too see how i'll **** up next so he has something to write about. i need him, because he sees me naked in my flaws and he stays.   he needs me because he's an artist and i'm his ******* masterpiece.    
so i take a hit and another and another, lay there motionless with aching bones and scarred skin and he loves me, so i spiral out and he lets me, he keeps me going going going.....