hey, I'm
seeing spiders &
shadows & lights again &
there comes a point
in your life when
you realize
it's all this forced speech
about how
the weather is fine &
no one has died
that shouldn't have.

it's like sitting
in an unfamiliar bathtub
til the water goes cold,
knowingly just floating
in frosty clouds of your own filth,
that sick type of epiphany
that we're all just sad little
feeder fishes painted gold
that live to eat **** **** float
get old go blind become senile
then hopefully die
before anything too terrible happens.
happy ends.

unlikely.

high noon &
the horse flies are biting,
for the life of me.
if you find yourself dead
or alive.
they'll pay you for perfect timing.

so smile sunshine
the drain hasn't
swallowed you yet.

no problem no sweat.

To be the only one to see
is a sad understatement
Its the sad truth that I'm a freak
and nobody seems to see
But with the powers of a freak
I will stand and I will see
all your grotesque atrocity's
because I am a freak a freak that see's

Stick and stones can Braked your bones
But words will tear your soal into tiny pieces
Maybe not all at once
But little by little
Slice by slice
The wounds will heal
But the wounds of the soal takes more the just time
And if those wounds don't heal
U die, not physically you can't be that Lucky
, no I can't be that lucky
When your soul bleeds it bleeds hope
Hope of change, hope of man kind, and hope that you are not the words, that people call you.

My soul has ran dried befor,
Sliced way to many time
And me with no confidence to stich it back up
I was to the point of opting out,
Saying **** it.

I was tired of being called a freek tired of being told  that I am less
That my life ment nouthing
Then I started to bleave it
That the world would be better with out me
And hell it would of been
I did not contribute to this world
Never made a change

I was so **** close
Blood flowing down my wrist
My mettifulical soul
Looking like my wrist
And obviously I lived

But you don't get over that kind of **** alone
It doesn't despair
It builds
U need a rope to get out of that rapid
You know what mine was.....
Words
The same thing that sliced my soal
That night I dreamed
That I was a writer
That my words did more good than the words of the outhers did harm
Not just for me but for others like me
Despair oozing out of them
Hatred coating there mind
That the only thing keeping them alive
Was the fact they cut across the tracks and not along

The next day I wrote
I wrote stories and poems
Letting my worries of the fuecher draw hope from the page and into me
Letting me clime out of my self pity
Without drugs
Without other people (the way I do everything)
And I lived
Not like I was, day by day
No I was finally alive I wanted to live
Not just because its what was expected
But I wanted this, I wanted my dream
I wanted to save not just my life
But some one else
To tell them
Yea words can beat you down, drag you to your grave, dig u a 9foot grave and berry you
But they can also brang you back to life, more alive than before.
Words can give you some thing that you felt you never had
Love, and love is what repair the wounds of your soul,
Show you that you have a reason to live,
No matter if those words are internal or external
They can heal you, and free you from the world that I once feared

I was in my room,
Am just thinking,
About law and rules,
Is this world is crazy or fool,,,,

No body knows,
Who made us,
Who chase us,
And who destroy us,,,,,

The world is because of us,
We are not because of world,
Then why this world,
Rule over on us,,,,,

People wants to live,
They wants to fly,
Someone leaving the hopes,
And day by day going to die,,,,,

This world is freek,
Want to live a life,
there is nobody cheap,
because this time am listen my heart from deep,,,,

In this world,
God creates the rules,
World creates the law,
Everything is going to destroy,
It was the end of the world,
That i  was saw.......!

Hey
I am not freek
But the question is
Am I dreaming
Or is this my reality