Yes, I have scars.
They're part of who I am.
I didn't see them comming.
but earned them all the same.
They're not always appearent.
Some are hidden, some are not.
But trust me, "I still feel them"
with every passing storm.
The scars I have inside me
by far haunt me the worst.
They keep my heart from your heart
a cowards shield and curse.

My method of living here
Is no longer fashionable
To read to write to venture
Is now seen as second class
To experience has evolved
I am man and machine
A ****-sapien 2.0
Letters pour forth from my hands
Like a pitcher filled with sand
The words worth less
Then the commodity of nothing
What is the point of the professor's polished shoe?
What are we all really trying to do?
Surviving is a middle weights goal
Transcending oh Heavy Weights Behold!
Near to death we link arms to appearent madness
We've entered the dark realm of the void and it is
Very
Very
Bleak here
To die human
Is no longer
A feasible option

The sparkle in your eyes burns like a recently lit candle.

The subtle hint of mystery in your face is so small yet so defining, almost like a cricket, barely visible yet so appearent.

There this look in your eyes that pierces right through my soul like a hot knife through butter.

Your beauty struck me like a well shot bullet, and I didn't dive away, instead I took the hit and let it take the best of me.

If I could, I'd rewire
The tormented brain I've been intrusted with
But this soul is so tired.
And there nothing I can do to fix this.

Was I born so sick?
Was it something I had done
What makes this brain tick
Why is all emotion gone

It's empty. And silent
No joy. No pain
The complete numbness Of a shattered personality
And nobody ever has to pay

I was beaten and starved
Molested time and time again
Made to believe that I was alone
By a man who was never a man

I grew up in such a corrupted city
People make jokes about the ghetto
But it isn't so funny
when you've been shot up by the metro

Nobody knows my story.
Only the parts I choose to share
It's actually quiet tragic
And there's no one who can compare

Same **** everyday
Bitterness. Hatred. Anger. fear
I was Just a helpless soul
But the people chose not to hear

Because then they can ignore the problem
The selfishness of a parent
But damage and suffering
It was so appearent

They should be ashamed
For turning a blind eye
To something so devastating
It could make Jesus cry

I didn't succumb to my past
I built something new
I made a brighter path
And it had nothing to do with you.

I made it on my own.
I beat the statistics
Where is my pat on the back?
God I must've missed it

Or did it even come?
A society so broken
All they really care about is money
And rolexs.

Shame on them.
For allowing the torment
It should've come to an end
But now I'm numb.

So really what's the point
There is no up or down
Why shouldn't I roll a joint
And just let it all go?

Maybe do something harsher.
Heroine or *******
Nobody really cares
I'll never be the same

What's the point of this life
Constantly running
From a past I had no control over
Please tell me isn't it funny.

I have all the consequence
For everyone else's actions
I might as well sit back
And let disaster happen