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.."
Change is constant Even when we have lost it Our souls, our bodies No longer clinging to meaningless hobbies The only thing guaranteed In a world full of greed All warnings we did not heed Taking without need Corrupted images destroying self esteem We should be working as a team To undo the damage Of the rich man's rampage Stealing resources Wars on false pretenses Thinking about the future makes me tense So many of my friends already have their mind set "Having a family, that's what's best" Why would I want to bring another life into this An innocent soul You're supposed to protect shape and mold Truth be told I am not that bold Although your hand I would love to hold I dare not bring another fragile human into a world so cold
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
layers shed, fall from those ancient snakes left for dead suffocated, stranded damaged god ****** this sunless planet is madness
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
I have never taken a blade to my wrist These thoughts cut me deeper than any knife Lately I can’t shake this feeling that I’ll never get anything right So what is the point when you don’t believe in yourself? If you can’t, how can anyone else? I've been staring at the same walls for three years I can’t seem to overcome this fear That my best is not good enough Can you be too ***** to love? When others shine so bright How could anyone choose my light? Happiness comes but it always leaves so soon I’d rather stay in Lock myself in this room Stare at the ceiling And think of you You’re so ******* good and I want to be good too But I am just a cliché With too many flaws You deserve porcelain skin and delicate jaws So should I push away or fade away Blend into shades of black and grey Slow down time Slip from my mind Yet always you remain Even when the last wisp of smoke escapes my lungs I can still taste your name on my tongue