As I walk through the streets of Newark
on this christmas' eve
I see as the mayans did
a world plunged in calamity

For I see not lovebirds walking by
nor do I see the old men waving hi
where have all these good people gone?
does anyone else see anything wrong?

The stores, not decorated festively
but one wreath perched up high
as the TV screens buzz on
about ******, ****, and genocide

Is this what has become of christmas eve?
if so I truly do not believe
that there is any value in the holiday
well at least not anymore...

and it all might as well have ended
more than 3 days ago

honestly- mayans- am I too late?
was your doomsday prediction delayed?
a prophesy that we have yet to see
about how we shall destroy ourselves

we all jumped to assume that the end
shall come from some horrid outside force
this allowed us all to just pretend
that humans don't hurt humans- of course.

While there are no children in the streets
and they fear of what may come
from the horrid acts they have seen on TV
they say to Saint Nicholas,

"You ask to know my christmas gift- and I have but one"
"please make sure those who are hurting will get some"

and just as you mayans
came to destroy yourself
is that what we
shall come to do once again?


...
or is there hope?

I've never been at a loss for words
but sometimes I'm quiet
some people talk too much
I just can't afford to buy it
words are just words
if you don't know how to say them
you might be seeing raindrops
but the weatherman just sprays them
to trick us into thinking
that our world is actually blue
and we follow the footsteps
of all these empty shoes
if you're looking for the truth
then you'd follow bare feet
mostly in the woods
sometimes in the street
they don't leave a mark
on everyone they meet
but if you follow the smell
well, the taste is pretty sweet

I let you go, I tried to shake you off
Like a bad dream that can't be fought
Your words cut deep, and effect my sleep

I wish you never knew
that trying to please you,
destroyed me and empowered you.

But that was then and this is now
You go ahead and take your bow
This show you put on, this little act

It ended us, as it's final act.

Cardiac arrest
Read me all the rights I have left.
Cuff me up
In the vein of the law
I must remain silent:
I know to withdraw.
Love, he is a lock down.
"We've got a
Code Red
—blood cell.

Cardiac arrest
Read me all the rights I do not have left,"
he said.

I could not make
it through the day.

I gave up at noon—
came home.
Lay in bed for twelve hours straight,
wondering,

Why am I not happy?

I tried to solve my problems
But then I realized...
I don't have any.

If I am sad with no means to be
Is that not a problem?

Love starts out
                          on the run.
Or so they they—
          They say
They're crazy.

Promise ring made of
                                      gold.
Or so she's told—
          She's told
She's crazy.


They said they'd
use your skin
for fun
'Cause since they said
Love starts out
                          on the run,
And ends on
Lust's warm highway
       (Runaway, runway—all the same, they say)
Or so they say—
          They say
I'm crazy.

Hazy, maybe, a little
                   fickle with the memories.
But they told me it was made of gold
    I swear, I swear.

They could not lie on love's runway, no—
My plane takes off in five
     I thrive,
     I strive,
     I derive,
from you: the root of
                                    a negative.