Scissors cut me up,
along my chest,
into strange shapes,
into pieces.

Pieces which tell me to not be who I am,
pieces which tell me to slow down,
pieces which tell me to lower my voices,
pieces which break me down.

And there I stand skinless,
raw blood and bone,
breathing with everything showing,
Life, slowly going.

But my heart beats,
as obnoxious as it may be,
vile and needy,
but struggling to be free.

So take it out,
in your hands.
Feel its last attempts
to cry out,
before it dies out!

In a sense,
I am trapped,
as the powers to be,
have taken from me...

A life which i dreamed,
broken and crushed,
bleeding within,
silent and hushed.

Trying to get back,
that which I lost,
A storm inside,
tempest tossed.

The desire to rise,
and walk to what awaits,
Needs some food,
some kind of bait.

To draw me out,
and bite,
stuck on for life,
no respite.

Long distance calls,
scratchy images,
Invisible walls,
created.

Wavelengths afar,
crests and troughs,
moving stars,
seated.

Put out fires,
burning embers,
all the desires,
heated.

All these wars,
through thick and thin,
and life was,
fated!

Writing heads, stooping down,
On desks made to conform
While water plays outside
Free, no form.

A wandering mind,
With Innocence is filled,
A question of marriage,
Drops running down the sill.

In uniforms so close,
People come and go,
Forget the magic rumble
Of the world in tow.

The need to wake up,
To sights like these,
We forget and sink,
In the streams with unease.

Of being broken and rising,
again to invest in a barrage of feelings,
diving headlong into something again
without much thinking.
For in that dive lay happiness,
for following the heart.
And thus it pains,
As it beats itself and crunches.
For matters of distance calls,
but maybe that's not
enough to melt the shards of pride
which stick in veins of life.
Ah life... a series of experiences
without judgement, all are
needed for the feeling to be alive
Without which man ceases to feel
the blood in his eyes, in his heart.