Ink flows through my veins
sharpen blades on my wrist
bleeding on paper
swallowing my pain
through the clenching of my fist
slicing through tendons
feeling dismembered
like I'm expelled from a group
coming up is December
a time spent together
yet I'll probably sit with my Solitude
me and him in my room
with paper and knife
cutting myself to see
what my blood will write
Innards embody a scribe
parts of me die
either given away
or taken from me
my blood is here for you to read
honost and open
no flow of deceit
and not a trace of defeat.

I find peace in my dreams
for they show me what my subconscious yearns for
I loath reality.

To be honost
would be to deem myself a liar
and i refuse to accept truth.

The only truth i am willing to accept
is the hatred i have for you.

Blood drips from my finger tips.
Pieces of my soul glue together my shattered heart.
The mirror is the purest witness of my self.
Eyes that acknowledge my past, present and future self.
But even a mirror can be broken.
It's vision can become blurry through the tears from the eyes that perceive the mirror as pure and honost.
Fragile is all existence, it's strength lies in flexibility and endurance.
Strength is the power to stay, to bend and adapt. The power to reflect back, to stare into the eyes of the future and to see the path you're carving. Not to control it but to bend it to your will with the goal of staying just a little bit longer. Another minute in which you can make a difference, another minute to bend your path and another minute here within the fragile fabric of this web called existence.

Take further steps
and I'll crush you with relentless force
The tides of society are already against you
and I'll send forth a tsunami wave
which will end this war
but that is if you take further steps..

I'll be passive, not attack you
nor defend myself
I'll be the neutal man
completely honost
and you'll get crushed by truth
the truth to which you are oblivious
By doing so I'll take away your power to blame me
because I'll make it so I can't be blamed..
by doing absolutely nothing
you'll deal yourself a relentless blow
that is if you take further steps..
So please... please don't..

An immortal flame
Absent, yet enkindled
It resides in me and you
An awareness we gave
eachother when our eyes met
When our smiles opened
the windows in our eyes
and we could see the same candle burning
How could we forget?
We never have
It's just the drama of going through birth
The fleetingness of life
and the wisdom of us as a child
that was washed away to time
Because let's be honost
we both were a long way from home
But our candle still burns my dear
And our home is still ours
let's spend some time together
I've missed you and I wonder how your day went.