"they won't know what you did last night!"
there are hurried steps they hear upstairs
but the date night can't wait.
It's already waited 35 years to happen
and now that he's started to go to bed early
lock himself up in his room
and isolate from his friends at school,
they can finally get some alone time
and enjoy their passion fruit.

"the time you spend away is just a joy to this world!"
it made sense to him that no one came to the rescue
and that his parents celebrated his demise.
Just in time for him to pick the position for them to find him
while he's dead and long gone
far away from the responsibility of
saying goodbye to those who will never stop missing him
but
"they will finally love you when  you're gone!"
was all he could hear
from the chanting harmonies to
hell.








eyes locked to only light in the room like a moth
he believes that he has pain like a damage brain
but his mouth still waters at the thought of happiness,
enough to make him live every single
day.


-stop pretending like life is one step away from suicide
because you diminish the pain of those who are
and pretending that you have pain will only get you so far
and your misjudgment will lead others farther into the dark-







the moonlight is out and I just can't think
about anything else than the fact that I
don't understand-
i never know why i feel like i'm sad,
when i feel so nostalgic that it burns it's own path
through the forest of thought that surrounds my mind
and i wish i could come out into the light
but i know there's a reason to explore every inch of this
darkness that lingers inside of me drifting-
i just want to say that everyday is worth living
and even these dark parts of the world are worth exploring
there is joy in the eyes of those who starve to death
there is joy in the eyes of those who know nothing
there is joy in the eyes of many who have suffered
and there is joy to be found in the eyes of those who are suffering.
there is new glory
there is new fountains of sparkling welfare to be found and fountained into our throats and to come splashing out and onto others-
there is much to ***** about
(in a good way)
there is much to be found
and much to be lost
and not enough time to keep trying to write something sentimental
when you have nothing to say.

protect your mind
protect your skull
protect the hive
protect the hull
protect from lies
protect from stone
protect from flies
protect from bones,
you only get one egg shell
you only get one yolk
you only get to crack once
you only get one choke,
if you slip and you fall
and you spill it all
and the slime drips off
onto the clothe
and you can’t clean up
or contain its stuff-
than it might be time to admit this was the one chance you get

and you blew it-

86 miles per hour down the highway of my mind
like a fire is nipping at my heals to make something happen,
and if I don’t get to grabbin what’s mine and start havin a good time
than that fire might get up to my ankles
and burn through my tendons
suspending me into a fall;
and I don’t know how hard my head is
but I know it will spill open
regardless of how hard headed I am,
and how hard I believe I’m escaping a fire
and not trying to drive my car through the front door of your barricaded front porch
in order for you to notice
that I want to be
noticed.

i remember when
i used to feel like
you never cared about what happened to me
and i felt like they'd never understand anyways-

they would say things like
"you don't know what you want"
or
"you're too young to understand",
and i could've gone to war with my arguments
and demands
and i could've waged war with my words for hours
until they caved
and gave me what i was craving-

and today
i find myself thinking
"you don't know what you want"
and
"you're too young to understand",
and i can't help but remember feeling like a hopeless child
with nothing but my reasoning
and anger,
frustrated by everything around me.

i sympathize with the fact that
your dad left and never came back
and
your mom wants to leave too
and
the world seems to be leaving you-
and
i sympathize with the truth that
you can't let them know you're weak
and
you can't just accept defeat
and
that letting things go makes you look badly
like you're afraid,
scared,
and
small-
all i can say is that
one day
you will look back
and realize you had no idea what you were doing
and you can be thankful for the arguments you lost,
and regret the ones you won.

precious feet are walking
down the same old street
and from the mouth there’s talking
a proud and joyful speech
but eventually the same old gets to be too old
and the young at heart divert the path just to see what may unfold

a new day brings
a brand new breeze
and the sun is rising
to erase all dreams
all hearts are beating
for the newborn sun
but the heat index
will melt everyone
eventually the same old gets too same and old
and the young at heart will melt away just to see what may unfold

I’m so passionate for the poison
and I will drink until it’s gone
and mark myself for death and burial
until the moon replaces the sun
I pick up precious things
with the needles underneath
never knowing what sinks inside
and what latches on with teeth-
inside of me

I can’t close my eyes for too long
or whatever is inside will divide and emerge
from deep beneath the caverns and the walls
and begin another purge!

I wish I never
picked up what was forbidden
and began my endeavors
to find what was hidden!
I can blame my shepherds
for having different names
but when I’m lying naked
I can only curse the rain!
the cold will subdue me
and will muffle all the crying
but when the clouds move and awaken
it’s easy to see that I’m dying
and I lied to those around me
and I lied to myself
when you had found me
I said I never needed help
but now I am broken
and I can’t trust in my intuition
and when words are spoken
they bring only inhibition!
I can’t start and I can’t stop
and I try hard but i can’t walk
my feet are paralyzed
but my mind has reason to still talk!
my feet are hole-y and I still whole-y
believe that I am still unholy
while blood and sweat try to control me
the poison I drank was enough to dull my blade
and make me a breakable
unsharpened
craggy
knife!

and **** me for life-
Y

What I do with my life is mine
And what I do with yours is fine-
The alarm will wake us all up one last time
And we won’t sit and figure out why
I chose to live the way I wanted to
Or why I never allowed you to,
There will only be the glittering light
and fading shapes
And the sounds of other spirits
Floating home.

Accept the abuse
Until the chorus chimes in
Reminding you that it’s all over.

you’re in such a rush to get to what’s next,
to the end of the page,
that you forget why you came here
in the first place.

you’ve forgotten the reason you were made
and replaced it with the busy day to day.
you can’t remember why you came here,
and yet you rush to get to the next place-
life is not a stop and go, pickup, drop shop,
where you can pick out your favorite gatorade
drink up
and feel like you’re top notch-
you’ve got to sweat in 89 degrees
with no AC
and heavy humidity
before you get through the ice cold doors
of the western beef,
buy yourself groceries,
get home,
and eat!
what I mean is,
you can’t just dream up a dream,
it has to be toiled over
until you can’t lift the weight of it in your hands anymore,
until it has to fly or sink,
and you have faith enough to leap after it
even if there’s no ground beneath your feet,
even if the chances are slim
and the captain begs you to stay on shore
and abort mission before your poorly timed transition
from dream to reality.

as long as you ignore reality.
and focus on what can be,
what can’t be now has room
to can.

I’m so quick to fill my head with something
that I no longer have time to think,
to dream,
to imagine new things-
I just stick to my consuming routine,
always stuffing myself without remembering
that stuffing myself isn’t fulfilling,
but will actually leave me emptier than starving.