I watch things from across the bedroom,
the way you move like the setting sun
as its setting, underneath me.
maybe one day I will be free.

The ghosts they move in distant lines
This is patience, grace, and self control
this is where I'm meant to be.


You've got your scars
they've got their demons
your grace is grounding
presence blessing me
is this where were supposed to be?

I felt the devil, he haunted my brain
But this faith is flowering through my veins
maybe today I am free.

I am not a ghost
ive burned these bones, and sent my soul back home
i am not a ghost
im learning patience, grace, and self control
i am not a ghost
looking for a hand to hold
ive planted a seed in roots too deep
in echoes of hallways across the sea
inner beauty and tales of conquering
im redefining myself in storied words
of triumph and self-defeat
i am not a ghost
for you can breathe me in
i am not a ghost
exhale me softly ill take on your sins
i am not a ghost
chaotic equations of love and hate
burying a past, cleaning a slate
restoring innocence of of the purest state
i am not a ghost of past or present
i am a man of neither tomorrow nor today
leaving softly, i close my eyes
i am not a ghost

so is this the american dream, another child dead at fourteen
a victim of no self-confidence and an inability to understand
that tomorrow is not today
you are not your mistakes
pure
free
anything you needed to see,
that tomorrow is not today
you are not your mistakes
and if i could breathe you back i would
the youngest(oldest) child misunderstood
deserving to bloom, to grow through the cracks,
to make it to spring and sing
that tomorrow is not today
you are not your mistakes
but its far too late
and no matter how hard i scream these echoes wont carry you back to me
but i will carry your name close to my chest, for family, for friends to never part
to understand
that tomorrow is not today
you are not your mistakes
i hope my words whisper through these trees
and find you sweetly (softly)
and carry you as above as you've felt so beneath
a cleansing song
a solid soul
you are finally free to realize
that today is not tomorrow
and you are not your mistakes.

The weekend drives
A moment of weakness is survived
I'm tired of talking to angels before i sleep
They've done nothing but take time from me
I can only count the block backwards
sixty clicks
a silence so deep
I feel the echos biting at my feet
Chipping the structures I've built so deep
Yet until nothing is left
Until I've used up all my best
Against the waves I pull
Yet until nothing is left
I am survived

Sleepless nights with imagery painted so blandly
wandering
A constant feeling of loss or losing
Thoughts on progress and prayer
I'm self destructing
Forged from fires stumbling
Embers whisk away into nothing
Now I ask this "God" am I even worth your saving
The silence, it is crushing
Flowing endlessly underneath
Born into a life lost to misery
Wandering
Thoughts on progress, prayer, self-loathing, and envy
is all that's left of (for) me
No
Conquering
Visions of a future so serene
Conquering
Visions of a life of constant building
Conquering
Visions of lines blurred oh so passionately
Conquered

In that moment,
I felt the ******* sky fall on my head.
I felt small.
So humbled.
the patience
the grace
echoing in my brain,
a cleansing refurbishment
of things unseen, hauntingly obscene
a belief that there is saving for my soul, wretched me.
forgive me for the things ive done
forgive me for the things ive said
for I let my demons take control of my head.
this part of me, i don't ask for returned.

I've given all my good away
and I'm all that's left of who i used to be.
replaced.

Every cigarette I smoke I choke it down like it is your name

but the only two things that remain the same

Is you're both an addiction I cant seem to shake
When I think about these ghosts

I hope its you that haunts my home

At least then id be at peace knowing I wasn't dying alone.

I suppose some sort of structure should be born from this chaos.
a lesson learned, a lesson lost.
sitting on the floor, rearranging worthless things.
counting backwards from ten
learning again, wasted time will never be returned
i've learned disbelief in receiving what ive given.
Yet still I give.
I've got a hole inside my brain, its an absence I have created
A spot i've saved for passion, and savoring every waking day.
yet still I wait.
still I wait.
I wait.
wait.
nothing.