It was a cold day running from the cops in the rain.
Gotta get my hands ***** if I wanna buy a chain
If I do make it out imma prolly go insane
If I do get rich then its prolly off a stain

Hands all ****** as im hopping on the bus
+
Air so cold that my blood turned to slush
+
Growing 2 fast like **** what's the rush
Get rich or die trying
There is nothing 2 discuss

With nothing left I sit my *** alone in a chair.
The table stands naked-  ashamed in the room, while I pour myself a glass.
A dull light shines upon the wooden fixture.
All the lonliness in the world stirred into the mixture.
There, a glass of satisfying
sedation I cannot seem to hold.
The ground cracks,
I can feel the separation.
My brain aches,
there's no mistake of despiration.
The bottle pours,
a thirsty cause,
JD please give me salvation.

Old World Juliette, it is a sad day which has come true.
My skill with the English language failed me
And I said things which no man should ever say to you.

We did come to date for a while like I had wished,
But then it all came crashing down around us
Because of those ill-advised words which I said
In worse-fated moments of desire and despiration.

I wished to be the one, your protection against the world
But all I did was turn and cut you down again.
I claim to be a Modern Day Romeo,
Thinking of us as star-crossed lovers destined to be,

But we, like the original pair of this namesake, are fated to be separated
By the poison I have taken, crafted by my own hand
And put in each arrow of each word to you I had spoken.

Then, in Juliette fashion, I came out of my stupor to find our love dead,
Poisoned by my vial - by the vileness of my own creation,
Stopped before the budding love-lily ever truly started growing.

I followed the rabbit of despiration down the contradictory hole.
It lead me to believe I could have anything.
But what if what I wanted had no name.
What if what I needed came in the form of a still beating heart.
My flesh was crawling with want. Lust. Desire.
I needed it. I wanted it.
Hopeless and weary, I craved it in an ugly and filthy fashion.
My bones ached for the touch of something real. Something that could feel.
I was ripped of comfort and replaced it with grit.
**** out the pure and pour in the damage.
I don't want to leave.
I can't.
I'm stuck.
*Simply, stuck.

I wonder when
Trapped inside
The dragonfly feels
Every inch of the walls
Curbing her from the sky.
Does her path know destination?
Or does she wait for a gap to the wild blue
That will never come?
I know her fatigue
The steadfast despiration of
Looking for an out
False windows grant
A glimpse of a simplistic freedom
Where carving the air has become
A fading dream.

First let me say:
No one is perfect
We all are unique
We all learn differently
We think seperatley
Our dreams and ambitions belong to our individual souls.
So why do yoy expect my daughter to be a cookie cutter image of a child at her age?
She is special and perfect in my eyes.
With a heart of pure innoscense and gold.
But all you see are the tears, the tantrums, and the fears.
You don't see the sweet little girl that cries herself to sleep because she never feels good enough.
You don't see the defeat and pain in her big brown eyes when a task is difficult or hard to understand.
The frustration because she doesn't know how to cope or why shes not like the rest.
The depth of exhaustion she experiences every day because her little body is not strong enough to master the challenges of the day.
You don't see the despiration to be accepted and loved.
Her mind and body communicate at the speed of light or at the pace of a tourtise.
So young she has no words to explain the torture that normal activities cause her pain.
You don't see the spatk of hope when praised for a job well done.
You don't hear her screams for help. A hand to guide her through this world.