Feeling isolated,
sometimes
i don't feel as though I'm the type to make it
angsty anxious
soul sedated
so I type to make it

self described as the greatest
self described overrated
self prescribed medication
self denies that exploitation

this could be the "realest **** i ever wrote"
yet its honestly nothing more than mental notes
reminders that I'm not dead yet
remind me when I'm dead, yet
come find me when my head's set
solidly on my shoulders

don't know why I'm so sick of being HERE...
my mental state's constantly all over

I'm often sought for "good advice"
often thought of "being right"
"living life"
well
while you whisper "listen" without thinking twice
I whimper at the thought of life
misheard, disregard me in the spotlight
cuz... dawg... my soapbox full of termites..

don't wanna preach to the choir
don't wanna talk to the congregation
and I'm sure with all these blunts I'm facin
I'm bound to be famous
isn't that how it works...?
or am i..
bound to be facin
blunt truths
and
those famous cliches
we love to hate

why I'm sending love every which way?
when that love always comes back as a switchblade?
that cuts so deeply
given a forewarning, yet left in dismay, as to say
"now this may hurt..."
"but learned lessons..-"
-THEY DON'T LESSEN ****
my scars have stories but trust me, being scarred is a different story
I'm still sore where that passion burnt

lately I've been wondering if writing is rather vain work
combined with this lack of passion its got me questioning my body and whether veins work
or not
regardless when you blowing wind; you should know my weather vane works
a lot
but most of the time
i try to find
justifications
to my observations-
"-yoooooo everyone deserves a second chance b"
but I'm simply asking
how long do your seconds last?, see
the last time I was "stuck in the moment"
I grasped on tight and tried to slow it,
but there's no escaping the fact
that things come and go
seasons change
from summer sun to falling leaves and rain, then snow
...
listen... falling leaves a back broken..
but while lying there staring
blank into the dimly lit ceiling
snapped in half,
i realized that
the hardest part about the ego and letting go
is having to say, "sorry i was just stuck in the past.."

what kinda **** is that.....

Decisions,
  
A split-second where life should be
                                                    
                                                      considered

I put so much effort into random places,
so much effort into random faces
face it
im faceless
placeless
drifting
shifting
thoughts towards destiny
feeling empty,
wondering whats left in me...?

messages esoteric terrorize my rhetoric
pedestrians staring glaring gazin gotta get a second look

shook

layers shed, fall from those ancient snakes
left for dead
suffocated, stranded
damaged
god ******
this sunless planet is madness

immobilized

try to find sense in a broke world
what are hands without manipulation?
and in life? death is a stipulation
a fools gold is never within grasp
so
clasp delusions Grandiose
with a toast
to sham pain and champagne
emptied grails course through mans veins

oh to see what mirrors saw
would reflections appear at all?
peer into the endless ego
see nothing but self libido

we are all weary travelers,
existences' eternal passengers
remove masks, flasks, end the charade
let serpents slither, and sun bath
away from the shade

embrace the end of nights
push away the start of days
just keep in mind
which way
            the pendulum sways

we all flow through life like rivers
here and there, crested glimmers
sun shimmered
atop waves once ripples
at last glance of this looking glass..?
men surely shivered

locked in depths of mind
where feral thoughts blind
binded by
"my" mentality


the self is selectively obsessive
malevolent
eloquent
evident
in heaven sent temperament

I.

I..

I...

can do no wrong..

can do no wrong.

can do no wrong!

those with bias
revel in personally pious thought
a myriad of self destruction

pompous contemplation
decimates civilization


we all flow the same way
we all ride the same wave
once a ripple from a stones throw
bound to glimmer when we all flow

a hole
void of light

dwelling in hellish mental wells
with no fight, flight or rational
weeeeelllllll,
.....
oh well....

man,
acclimated to dirt ceilings/sealings,
and
unless stars are aligned
will be born dead before found alive

roots from life
hang over head,
..
..**** em..
..
just empty promises
from another dead

so,

sit in solitude
a solemn wreck
show helping hands,
real neglect

to uncover this hovel.?
no shovel will do
even
a sympathy symphony
wont let light shine through

Empower.

manifest mountain-tops
from bottom rocks-once-kicked
blossom bottle-rock-ets
from sticks, stones,
and,
thoughts of home

illuminate
cold dismal walls
elucidate
ambitious calls

burst forth reborn
alter the skyline
with mind
refined

you can do anything
you put your mind to
look in the mirror
say im just tryna find you