The water is flavorless  when it hits my coffee stained tongue
I crave hydration. My white lined lips  argue that it's impossible

a certain feeling is emerging
Grinding of my teeth
Nails to chalkboard
I dont like it.
I want to shout, I want to scream,
I want to fight, I want to blow steam
My eyes have been dammed for too long
I must cry, I must feel
I must share, I must reveal
I am hindered
Theres a certain ******* tongue desires
and no amount of candy or soda
will satisfy.
I don't know, but
I want out. I feel
I have no say or power to do,
But the reality is I "Do"

My mind is on fire
with the itch of
curiosity.
Like the flakes from
my scalp
Ideas fall from my head
where they lay, I simply
blow them off.
I left empty handed
And sore from
scratching for answers .

The world is ill and I am not a doctor. Success is water soluble. You can mix it with alcohol and you can roll it with your ****. I want nothing to do with it. Greed is as green as the grass thats on the other-side. Poverty is camouflaged with bright smiles and happy families. Pain is merely an evolutionary adaptation wrapped up with a bow as common sense gifted to all who are born. Apparently Adam and Eve must've took a bite of an apple and lost some teeth to make them think they sinned.
Repression is the new depression. Nothing changed just my behavior .

There's no signal
in this room
There's no signal
when i'm with you

Now please refresh
I exist to exist, as
much as you .

Now please refrain
from saying "I love you"
Let's abstain from the
thought of loving you

/
Mind on fire
with the itch of
curiousity. the flakes
that fall are ideas.
where they lay, I simply
blow them off.
I,
Left empty handed
and sore from
scratching.
//
Tip toe into madness-
Waltz so slowly-
Rolling my head back
looking up into the sky,
smiling so dangerously.
Clutching my curiosity-
Fluttering my eyes so fast
I experience an overdose.
///
Foot tapping to the
sound of impatience.
banging - tantrically
throwing heads around
for therapy
it soothes the itch
of exorcistic compulsions.
get read to exude crazed
lyricism. The aestheticism
brings me to
bite my lip.

Our hearts,
So much like trees
The heart dies a slow death
Each hope,
A leaf
They all blow away,
One by one
Till nothing is left