My heart beats against my chest,
The adrenaline rush getting to my head.
I’m scared and stuck in public,
Lying awake to the paralysis as it’s subject.
I look around and my vision is obscured,
My mind full of aches, my words matured.
I try and try, but it all goes wrong.
My head, my words and even this song.
I wanna see you, but I don’t want it to go away,
I don’t wanna disappoint nor do I wanna Say...
I wanna go home, but this feeling forces me to stay.
The problem is, If I let it all go...
I’ll forget this ever happened, I’ll bow to my audience and I’ll call it a show.

Every time I speak, I see myself in a mirror!
Every time I look, I see my life disappear!

You heartless *******, you’re just hallucinations!
Go burn in the hell, you call home!
You’re nothing but a miscreation!
So I bow my head, and I’ll tell you...
I’m sorry and I can’t hold on much longer,
I love you.

We live in a generation
Where the lack of verbal conversation
has made all of us blind.
We all hide behind
our shiny, protective screens
where what words truly mean
is blanketed by lighthearted connotations
followed by a lack of punctuation.

But those lighthearted phrases
Cause others to go through phases
Where the light is stolen from their hearts.
They see what others call jokes
as simply a hoax
to disguise with lies
the darkness hiding behind their eyes.
It is intended to hurt,
to prove their worth
and to unearth all your insecurities.
While some go through phases
others get caught in mazes
that drag them ever deeper
into the fiery flame pit of self hate.

This self hate, they do not appreciate.
They let themselves bite the bait
instead of getting the story straight.

We live in a time where the muscles of our thumbs
are stronger than the muscles of our minds.
Enough so that our eyes are blind
to the downfalls and issues of mankind.
“If I can’t see it, it isn’t there.”
Oh, but our satellites, those things up there?
And the tectonic plates below us where
some of the greatest destruction brews without a care.
...Those exist, right?
You can’t see those.
So you shove those away,
like a box of old clothes
and make way for your own
delightful fantasy you call your own.

“Life is hard.”
You don’t know hard,
until you see the scars
someone gouged into themselves
to escape the iron bars
weighing them down to life.

You don’t know hard
until you see someone’s mutation
from normalization
to one of pure starvation of love,
and devastation,
because they were a victim of miscreation.

You say you’re not bullies,
but you destroy someone’s life with relative ease,
tearing down their fragile shield of protection
and steering them in the wrong direction.

Just a simple word, directed towards someone,
“Stupid.” “Fat.” “Ugly.”
Can remove a person’s life completely of glee,
make the light vanish from their soul,
and make their life seem like the Dust Bowl.
There is no “making amends.”
So the next time you open your lips
and put your hands on your hips,
before the words roll off the tip
of your tongue,
Look into their eyes
and be willing to compromise
because you don’t know how they feel inside.
Sometimes it is better to be silent than to be heard
because the tragedies caused by the spoken word
are better left unheard.

Everyone has dreams,
and everything is not what it seems,
and before you see the streams
of tears running down their face
as they scream in frustration
that their life is a state of desolation
you’re better off being silent,
than violent.

And just as everything is not what it seems,
I…
am not what I seem...