Today we kings and queens. We rock this town, bringin the truth, vibes, and spirit around...
Plant the seed of green we all should love, and bring heaven down from above...
We know the truth, yet so many still choose to belive. Bringing misjudgment to this victimless seed...
Being led by propaganda caused by petroleum monopoly. killing the world, being complete greedy...
****** madness. Complete ******* served at a time it was easy to belive, because our people were so nieve...
Sad to know what our leaders have done. But we Kings and Queens, and the war is won...
Now we need to make it so it can't be undone. Save mother earth, so our future wont judge us for what we've done...
-Big D

A solitary seagull sits bobbing on the waves
the waves culminate together and generate cascades
The seagull stays determined he will not be dragged down
yet one little misjudgment of a wave and this poor fellow will drown.

Life for me has been no crystal stair.
No steps of marble, granite or gold lay apt for my ascension.
No—I have climbed through thickets and thorns.
I have persevered—I have triumphed.
Yet it seems, despite these hardships,
life has always afforded me second chances.
The delicacy of my actions,
the sensitivity of negative repercussions
scarcely affected my younger self.

Opportunities always seemed to present themselves.
Though money and its evils have graced my experience,
my soul remains relatively innocent and refined.

Though I have, on past occasions,
become enveloped in the physical substance,
I quickly learned the long term suffering that these ideations efface
far out-shadows the temporary pleasure of the immediate.
I have overcome afflictions both physical and mental,
and lingered in the pleasure of remission.
Quickly to be reminded how easily diseases can emerge
when disregarded.

I’ve learned that of all things in life—
love, above all, deserves attention and sentiment.
Love, with all its purities and imperfections,
more often fruitlessly sought after than easily attained.
Love, above all other things, cannot be imitated, falsified or forged.
And though I spent some years deprived of this blessing,
I am none the more depraved for it.

I am lucky to say that I have loved.
My heart, delicately and handsomely entwined with another.
And that I am loved in return is a blessing beyond bounds.
Adoration and all its accompaniments are the greatest treasure in a lifetime.
For, what are treasures worth without anyone to share them with?
Any other accomplishments and joys are devalued without companionship.
And indeed, a faithful companion is most appreciated in times of hardship—
the throes, truncheon and tribulation of the everyday
faced alone can prove debilitating.

A great man once said “Life is a bowl of cherries.”
It took many years for me to understand the full meaning of this declaration.
But now I understand—
that each of us reachs into life,
like we reach into a bowl of cherries.
We know not whether what we receive
will be pitted and bitter
or sweet and juicy.
We will not know;
we cannot know,
not until we take a bite.
And if there is anything I have learned
it is to live and let live.
It is to reach into life, unbridled yet controlled,
with morals and constraint
and yet bereft of the fear of outcome:
the guilt of the past,
the impeccable omnipotent pressure of the present,
the trepidation of the future,
and the transience between the three.
The acceptance of this passage through time:
aging,
learning,
making mistakes,
making new mistakes,
loving:
this is how to live.
For, if we fear time,
which we cannot control,
we will always be afraid.
To live a life afraid is to embrace hardship.
Any semblance of hope or happiness
is abandoned with the acceptance and embrace of fear,
for fear, without use or cause
is the impetus of great misjudgment and injury.
We must, to avoid this,
relish in moments of happiness
and string them together
with the constant felicity and solace of companionship.

My pain is like a dripping faucet
abused and mistreated
My overall condition, worsening drip by drip by drip.
Filling up the sink of life and drowning slowly,
agonizingly.

Choices made with haste and without true understanding of the possible result of the bitterness and pain I was causing.
The loss of the only child you carried in your womb, protected and loved by you, tenderly and with intent.
Mistakes so numerous, an exact moment of loss not known.
Immature woman given young child to raise in this world
of temptation, sin and emotional turbulence.......

-SIN OF THE FLESH CHOSEN OVER A GODLY LIFE-

My beautiful boy with a heart full of hope and abundance
damaged with a change of plans in my travels, unfairly and unjust.
Causing his vehicle to careen down an empty highway of bitterness and isolation.
Fortifying walls around his heart full of abundance of trust and love
Now cold and distant from the mother that shielded him from pain with strain and exertion.

My voice beckons him from across the canyon
To PLEASE allow me to make things ok again between us.
But, alas, only the echo of my own voice is rocketing in the distance
Emptiness and hopelessness, I strain to hear anything at all, no emotion allowed to return to me.  Not even an angry voice.
Beating myself with a metal chain, ****** and in complete desperation, standing on piercing nails with ripped off limbs.....

-OVER AND OVER AND OVER AND OVER-  
FOR EVER??  
NO MORE CHANCES.  
FORGOTTEN, WATCHING IN DESPAIR AS HIS LIFE GOES ON WITHOUT ME
SO EASILY, HE MAKES IT APPEAR.

Regret is like an ancient building ruining the value of its neighbors
decrepit and broken down,
Depraved, isolated and abandoned with recklessness.
So ugly on the outside, no one dares try to re-enter the condemnation of the door.
No one believes it can ever be restored to its original beauty and inspiration.

Hopeful and optimistic for a reunion of remembrance and forgiveness.
Determined with purpose, willing to risk looking shamed and unlovable.
No more self-respect because of hasty, decisions and instant gratification.
Still holding my breath.  Could this be the time I call and he finally comes around?
Grasping to clutch, once again, the blessed unconditional love and trust of my only son.

Negligent and selfish, unintentional life choices of a mother
Difficult to completely accept responsibility for injuries sustained by my misjudgment.
Finally, after years of scripture and study,
Understanding the agony and misery
God must have felt to watch Jesus' beaten and prodded,

GOD SACRIFICED HIS ONLY SON
............THE ONLY WAY TO SHIELD US FROM THE UNIMAGINABLE PAIN AND MISERY
OF AN  ETERNITY  IN HELL ALONE AND UNWANTED
FINALLY RENEWED WITH FORGIVENESS!!!
AFTER WE HAD SINNED AGAINST HIM SINCE THE GARDEN OF EDEN FOR THOUSANDS OF YEARS.

Almost insane from the self-inflicted abuse,
Survival instincts start to make me want to give up and continue my bad choices to numb the memory of him.
Yet, still begging to have him love me again, even if it was for a single minute.
Dreaming of a loving hug from son to mother in earnest and heartfelt.  Willing to settle ANY emotion at all reciprocated.
Hoping he never makes a mistake that causes such irreparable intensity, empty and unwanted.

After 12 years of comforting and soothing and protection,
Everything lost, no more memory at all of mother needed...
No thought of how important he made me feel at one time.
Only father standing proud in picture next to child
                Lovingly smiling at him with adoration.

He respects him and loves him as much as he condemns and disregards me.
               He only speaks or thinks of me with disdain and total detachment
And.. Only when absolutely unavoidable and by force, it appears.
What kind of hell on earth is this?  
           My own tears drown my hope and regret now defines me with each effort of possible reconciliation that is tossed away like an unwanted thing.  

Drip, drip, drip.
My heart is ripped into a million pieces, by my own hand.  
Never to be needed again
If forgiveness will never be possible, tell me now.
                 Please have mercy, while I grieve the loss of my only son.  Yet he lives.

once you take that first step down the path
the decision has been set upon and you cannot go back

now it is up to trust, that invisible demon or angel in waiting
right or wrong the pendulum will swing in either direction

time a curse or a blessing guided by a compass
beholden to no one it has its own destiny

for love once betrayed is a vengeful enemy
setting off a cornucopia of storms of anger

unleashing the torments only goddesses can bestow
their ire ****** forth like a thunderous lighting strike

wishing to smite those that have broken her heart
there is no hiding from the maelstrom your betrayal has unleashed

bringing embarrassment to those that inhabit castles
a dire misjudgment in a moment of voluptuous temptation

is there now regret to having succumbed to human wontedness
it would appear so, hands now tied striding towards the inevitable

step by step moving closer to the sentence handed down
the walled fortress now a corral with no escape

and then I am there, she and a legion of men in waiting
a gilded sword sharp as any in the kingdom prepared

her golden hair blowing in the wind, delicate features revealed
utter beauty astonishing in the backdrop of a scorching sun

how could I have traded this for a night of passion with another
now I am pushed down to kneel before her my heart racing wildly

she is judge and jury and as she draws back the sword
I wonder if there is one morsel of sympathy in her repertoire

so I close my eyes and ponder why has my lust brought me here
all the whilst listening for the whoosh that will end my days or not

Andreas Simic©

I think about family dinners and cards
How we played skipbo instead of poker
And you were ok with being there anyways
Even though it seemed pointless
And now I'm making new memories
But I don't want to lose ours
They're beautiful
They hurt
They remind me of what we were
Before I realized I didn't feel the same

When I left you said you'd miss my family
I didn't realize I'd miss yours so much too
Now your back in your hometown
One I'll never see again
And I'm always back in mine
But you won't be

I think about motorcycle classes
The ones I'll never take
Because all I remember is the DMV
You forgot papers
And I had to go to work
But we got to talk on the drive
That made it worth the seemingly wasted time

Our home that is now so empty
Finally made me feel safe
And though this apartment is basically the same
It's not my home
I don't have a home anymore

Even those days in the old houses
You gave so much light to my darkness
But eventually my demons won
My empty soul could not be filled
By even your genuine goodness
Because I didn't face my feelings then either

I think of the day I proposed to you
I had it all planned out
The food, the picnic, the drinks, the flowers
Our night at the hotel
We watched It's Complicated
Which is pretty ironic now

The lady at the front desk was so excited for us
Even though I couldn't check in alone
Apparently you have to be 21 for that
And we were so young
But we were happy in that moment

I haven't really talked about it yet
Because my feelings don't make much sense
Is this regret I feel?
Or am I just plagued by the pain of knowing just how badly I hurt you?
I am hurting too
And even in those moments
You're still the only one I want to talk to

2 years of memories
2 years of putting up with my problems
You deserve so much more
And I hope you find it one day
Because I couldn't give you what you gave to me
Your unconditional love and safety
I only broke you down
And left you wounded by my mistakes and misjudgment

Ignorance was bliss
And this reality is destroying my sanity
But I need to face these feelings
So this pain can stop killing me

With a sunset stormed in all the evils
A creeping temptation to abomination
A swirling appeal to haphazardness

Then came a wild night when i let things go
An ordinary aberration from a chaotic junction
An occasional stray from a lost path
An intentional overlook of unscrupulous mischief
A through misjudgment under ruthless predicaments

With a sobering dawn i found myself
A delusional justification for foreseen consequences
An unconscientious injection of fleeting remedies
A deliberate neglect for recurring failures
A self-inflicted blindness to vindicate oneself from misery

Then it is a calm morning
Though i know that it is all in the history
I cannot avoid the reappearing of the serene night
Whose other side awaits the furious storm to shatter me down yet again

I just want people to notice that
I actually do care.
    I care about a lot of obstacles
 and a lot of people.

Maybe I'm trying to make up
for all the years of wronging and
misjudgment I put upon other
people.
               The same misjudgment
               and wronging
               that has been
               reflected
               upon me.

I can't say in words how I feel now. I'm just trying to figure out this guilt, this hurt I'm holding inside me. I didn't understand the meaning of the phrase "You realize what you had until it's gone" until the day I lost what I cared for...you. There's an emptiness inside me and I can't find a way to fill it. Everyone I start to care for, they all just fall into a void and I know I'm losing my way in this world.

The ropes that holds me are slowly breaking; letting me fall inch by inch, and there's no way for me to tell, what will happen to me when I fall into the darkness. You made my world so different from what it was before, your sole presence changed me so much, and now that I have felt the sweetness of your love I can't go back to the darkness of this world, the depravity and cruelty of everyone in here.

Regrets fills my thoughts, not letting me think of anything but you. Your words, your feelings, your smile and most of all your love. I still can't believe all the things that I did. All my actions filled with stupidity and misjudgment. Could you ever see past them?

I hope you will be able to forgive me, even if what I did cannot hope for forgiveness. I know that we will never be as we were before. I can only wish that we could be friends again, even only that would be glorious gift to me. It really kills me though, that you have left me here, completely forgetting my existence. I really do believe that's what hurts my soul the most.

Anytime I think of you, I hear your name or I see anything that involves you, there's a shudder that overcomes my body. A shiver I cannot control. Your memory has changed me so much and I can't but notice that I still love you. You own my heart and soul, I cannot deny that I can't let anyone in, even if I try with all my strength.

I wear a fake smile every single day, laughing or smiling when I feel I'm supposed to, but I can't keep this act together for much longer. It pains me that I have to pretend with everyone, with my friends especially. I can't keep talking about this but I wish upon the stars that you will remember what we had and forgive me. I want to hear your laugh again, and I want yo see your smile. I want you to come back, I need you to come back.

Abandonment
Resentment
Embarrassment
Harassment
Replacement
Punishment
Imprisonment
Detachment
Torment
Misjudgment  
Sentiment

I stand before the walls of a glorified failure as it tumbles beneath itself.
The nature of a grave danger, labored with a dire wager.
Plunges and crumple, into a pile of rubble
and to continue forth into a hidden tunnel.

Dirt stain fingers and my inner winner;
The only tools left to dig a way out of our rapidly crumbling puzzle.

You delivered me my unfathomable killer-
A ineradicable form of justice.
My sacramental, misjudgment of
a thrill gone astray.
Leaving me feeding the birds which prey on saints most days.

I stand before the wall as a simple thrall.
Dirt and grime painting my nails.  
I stand in my hellish pit readying to climb.
Ready to rise from the plague surrounding me.
To fill my lunges with air, not lingering with death.

I am ready.
The bringer on the rise.

Accidental happenings and spun intentions
Into something so evil
The devil dare speak the words
The anger in my soul
Making Aries burn green
Fists and kicks
None hurt worse than words
Those without meaning
When strewn with guilt
And misjudgment
Creating puzzles out of clarity
And chaos out of peace
Cacophonies of noise
Disrupting the minds of those
Who the words still held meaning
To measure into the abyss.

Plants are patient
Waiting for just the right time to sprout
The slightest misjudgment on their part could mean death
So they will wait as seeds for years
Hiding beneath the tall oaks
Hoping one day they will have the chance to kiss the sun's sweet rays
as their elder's looming above them do
 
Plants are strong
As people massacre them for food or for their flashy reproductive organs
But they will come back
Even though they know they will be cut down again
 
Plants are kind
Giving themselves to help all others
Blooming beautifully for the bees
Cleaning corrupted air
Giving back to the soil when they die
 
Someday
I hope to be like a plant
I hope to be patient in life
Waiting for the right time
I hope to be strong
To grow back even when I know ill be cut down again
I hope to be kind
To give love to everything and everyone

A Black House and a White House,
       Lived on opposite ends and worlds,
Were merely divided by a Grey Fence.

The Black House made bricks of unknown,
                  So the Grey Fence was taller,
The White House made bricks of misjudgment,
            So the Grey Fence was wider.
The White House dug trenches of resentment,
                Then the Grey Fence had depth,
The Black House made bob-wires of pride,
                     So the Grey Fence had spikes.

The Black House and White House
Made improvements to the Grey Fence,
Until it was insurmountable, but hence
Came at the expense of the land of their houses.

They went back to living in their own worlds.
Settlers saw opportunity in the Grey Fence.
Doors, windows, furniture made it into house.

The Grey House was the tallest,
Wideness made it the biggest,
With trenches and bob-wires as protection,
The beaut besting between the three.

The White House got a sour sledgehammer,
The Black House an envious ripping bar,
The White House a jealous jackhammer,
The Black House a beguile bulldozer.

Both houses were going hammer and tongs,
Trying to demolish what they had built.
Minutes, hours, day after day and beyond
But the Hate, the Grey Fence, was rock solid.

a quote of Al Pacino

<>
it took/takes
a lifetime to get close
to where the answer
possibilities  don’t river
rush past, and each eddy
seems like that’s the one,
the definitive affirmative, 
 jump in and all you get
for misjudgment, is a
sopping wet
for your troubles

but you keep on jumping
from job to job, roll from
role to role, cause
even if the
last one is not
a fulsome answer, it
is in possess of the
creative release,
the high that satisfies
till you need a
new hit, another hint,
of tapping into
the vein of creation
that enlivens and
declares, I am purposed
for this,
no matter
how long it takes,
and or the
errors of mistooks,

me I’ll keep jotting down
jumbled jimmied words
in new combine
until such time -and rap,
I can say well shoot
that’s a wrap,

eyelid hints at
a rest but at
the same time
it gives forth
a sloooow wink,
that best poem
yet to come
won’t likely arrive
until it
comes forth
in a last gasp,

a final exhaustion,
exhaustive expelling
and even might be
highly satisfactory
breadth of a last and
everlasting breath~taking
****! just got
t a k e n



nml

Guess Life hasn’t been life in a minute
Heart’s weighing heavy, hardly have the strength to lift it
So I Hang my head lower than my eyes when I’m too lit
Should probably change my ways but if the shoe fits
Please excuse my past excuse and indiscretions
Know you know I don’t have a clue I’m misdirected
Misguided misjudgment, mask my mistakes with mixed drinks
Sorry that I lost you I often tend to misplace things
Misplace blame, misplace trust, Misplace hate, misplace love
Far too many if’s and maybe’s maybe that’s what I’m afraid of
Cause you're the only one who kept me grounded like a parent
And as time goes by its becoming more apparent
You're my only constant, constantly betting that I'll get through it
And I wanna prove you right because I know your love's the truest

In this photograph,
Here in my hands,
Lies the most telling tale.
It is a picture of a man,
Dark hair, in his middle years,
But wiser than anyone I have ever seen.
I do not know this man personally,
But he has traveled the world,
And seen all of its tragedies
And all of its blessings.
I have never met this man,
But he knows all of history,
From the beginning of time
Up until the end of the universe.
It's not something we can fathom,
But his mind is capable of knowing the misunderstandings.
However,
This man never existed.
Nor will he ever.
The human race will run
Fast
Faster
Until they can run no more
In order to be like this man sitting here in my hands.
But their goal is out of reach,
Clouded by misjudgment and arrogance.
We will never be like this man sitting here in my hands.
We will never be this man sitting here in my hands.

Spend time with me sister! The sister I know I don’t have, a confusing passenger in my mind, that continues to bleed upon the apple-peels in my daydreams, where has your real reason for being envisioned burrowed? Is it not beneath the coal-white heated sands of my misbehavior? Or in the convenient pleasures of misjudgment. Either way your whisper wasn’t loud enough for my distracted eyes, those mobile shells recording the affairs of a race in which I am far behind, far too interested in spying on the obvious I often rest.

a quote of Al Pacino

<>
it took/takes a lifetime to get close
to where the answer possibilities
don’t river rush past, and each eddy
seems like that’s the one, the definitive
affirmative,  jump in and all you get
for misjudgment, is a sopping wet
for your troubles

but you keep on jumping from job
to job, roll from role to role, cause
even if the
last one is not a fulsome answer, it
is in possess of the creative release,
the high that satisfies till you need a
new hit, another hint, of tapping into
the vein of creation that enlivens and
declares, I am purposed
for this,
no matter how long it takes,
and the errors of mistooks,
me I’ll keep jotting down
jumbled jimmied words
in new combinations until
I can say well that’s a wrap,

eyelid hints ai a rest but at
the same time
it gives forth a slow wink,
that best poem yet to come
won’t likely arrive until it
comes forth in a last gasp,

a final exhaustion, exhaustive,
and even highly satisfactor
breadth of a last and
everlasting
breath~taking
t a k e n



nml

The night comes,
One is to sit on the other side of the bed she calls home
But what she did not know
Was that when the phone rings,
She was one second away to hearing
The rooted and raspy voice
That unmistakably sounds like home.

Exhaustive conversation exchanged,
The night changes
Words of wisdom penetrates
Did she see it coming?
God has once again made His magic
For all of that was true when the sky is blue,
What do I have to lose?

A man and a woman is to uphold three arches in life
These were made for them to grow
And only to grow
He says,
Love, (inner) peace, faith
These echo in swift motion to the back of her head
For the man whose voice sounds in harmony to what she calls home continues,

Faith my friend,
Most often than not,
Comes last
Do believe
And believe
And believe!
For it is the only thing we can do to unlock

She sat still,
What else is there to unlock?
Is it not enough of pain which has already been unfolded?
Is it not enough of sin?
Is it not enough of misjudgment?
Of seeing the light not in the morning
But in the darkest of tunnel?

It is the freedom, my love
It is your freedom
She could hear the sound of his fingers
Teasing atop his piano—
That has already become his friend
But what she saw was his fingers atop of her body,
For how his enlightened language sounded like making love

Who are you?
They asked of each other
A man
A woman
An artist
A musician
A writer

They did not know,
That when the line hang up,
Another line is to come
And so is the jolting,
Electrifying exchange of words of wisdom
of the two smallest people who felt the biggest
Giving birth to music that once again sounds like making love

i offered you everything while torturing myself,
we used to watch the birds through our tiny window when i was little,
your presence fades whenever you get closer to me,
an empty space between us becomes more apparent,
the destruction is starting to become a part of me that i cannot defy,
the more i grow up, the more i ask myself why,
why do i put up with this?
i mourn in solitude, filled with regrets,
your misjudgment, you never seem to apologize even when you’re at fault,
i came to the conclusion that i never want to be like you,
so thank you, I hope you feel the triumphant loss.

A warning from the Surgeon General:

WARNING. This beverage contains alcohol.
It should not be consumed by pregnant women.
No, not even a little, no not even early on,
Or in a certain trimester, no, not at all.

WARNING: There is a myth out there
That says that small amounts of alcohol
Can be beneficial for a child.
This is false. There is no benefit.
Why, then, take a risk?

WARNING. There is a life within you now.
It breathes the air you breathe,
Your blood runs through its veins.

WARNING: Your misjudgment may drown it.
Your alcohol-soaked impairment may cost your child
A chance at a normal start.

WARNING: FASD doesn’t just stand for
Fetal Alcohol Spectrum Disorder.
It also stands for From Alcohol Stems Death-
Death of a chance at true normalcy,
Possibly death of your child.
Beware, take care.

WARNING: What you do now
Cannot later be undone.

There's regret, shame,
and a dozen dozen times of
'I wish I'd take it back'

That's of mistakes, blame,
and misjudgment decorated
with two licks of misfortune.

You, me; everyone.

But I don't want a time machine.
Not because it can't work, theoretically,
nor because it'll be a mess if it did

I don't want a time machine.
I want that **** on my back.
I want my cut hands.

I don't want a time machine.
I want my insults to stay.
I want my old friends' grudges held.

I don't want a time machine.
I want my lost to stay dead.
I want my living to stay alive.

I want me. This me. And you. And everyone.

So there's that stuff
in the first two paragraphs,

and there's peace,
and it's been staring me in the
eye for way too long to miss.

3am, and
the phone call
felt like swallowing shards of glass
i was coughing up blood
by the time she said
"try to get some rest"

i couldn't tell her that
i was resting all along,
should've spent more time awake
for you
but i was always pretty selfish
absorbed by "the process"

should've processed your pain,
you bled it out at my feet
and i stepped over it
to keep my shoes clean

i wrapped my arms around your stomach,
twisted your pendant around
between my fingers,
never bothered to ask
what it meant,
where it came from,
or why you never took it off

i liked your red curls,
soft on my shoulder
everytime we hugged

and the way your smile
was a gateway to your agony,
deep like the sea,
i could see the bottom,
but was too scared to go there,
too scared it would feel familiar,
too scared i wouldn't wanna leave,
i'd drown just to taste
something infinite,
real and unwavering,
something bigger than me

i always needed to be
the biggest thing in the room,
drank attention like water,
never cared if it was laced
with poison

you were something challenging,
an honest energy i never knew before,
kindness that radiated from the core,
no hidden motives,
no secret schemes,
you were love,
profound, gaping,
quiet and raging,
and you were reaching your hand out,
everything pointed right for me

but i did what i always do,
i recoiled,
fell back into myself,
spent months alone
smoking cigarettes
out my bedroom window,
writing bad poetry,
and starving just to feel

then there was that february night,
a leap back into the world;
i remember the navy blue darkness,
the sky like a rock,
no movement,
no color,
the crisp cold,
the way it stuck on my bones,
shivering in jordan's basement,
clinging to a bottle of *****
for warmth,
r.j.'s shakey voice
cutting the frozen silence
in a roaring whisper,

"he really cares about you,
he's having a really hard time,
you should reach out,
i know it'd matter"

and i remember the lies,
as clear and harsh and hitting
as they were that day
when i promised i would
but never did

why didn't i?

all it took was one misjudgment,
you clenching a steering wheel,
shattered glass,
full air bags,
drained lungs,
all that you were,
every bit of you,
snapped like a twig,
in the brassy grip of night,

and just as intensely as you came,
you vanished

your voice was light as air,
would've thought it was drippling
out of the sky,
i was barely listening,
hardly heard you say goodbye

Spend time with me sister! The sister I know I don’t have, a confusing passenger in my mind, that continues to bleed upon the apple-peels in my daydreams, where has your real reason for being envisioned burrowed? Is it not beneath the coal-white heated sands of my misbehavior? Or in the convenient pleasures of misjudgment. Either way your whisper wasn’t loud enough for my distracted eyes, those mobile shells recording the affairs of a race in which I am far behind, far too interested in spying on the obvious I often rest.

One day I'm gonna forget all about you and this place.
The second I see you its all gonna come back.
And I'll remember why I wanted to forget...  
But for now I still think of you once a day
soon that will dissipate.
To think I could have loved you...
Silly me.
Why?
You're not worth what I have to offer.
My standard of myself has lowered
therefore so has what I feel I deserve.
But I will regain my confidence,
my strength,
my respect,
and my dignity.
I will not let this town win.
I must stay strong and true.
I have to get back on track.
If not I fear the right path with soon become overgrown with the roots of my poor decisions and misjudgment.
And all that will be left is one dark road to a predictable future,
a light at the end.
Keep my roads clear.
Keep my skies open.
Save myself,
save my soul,
save my dreams...

Spend time with me sister! The sister I know I don’t have, a confusing passenger in my mind, that continues to bleed upon the apple-peels in my daydreams, where has your real reason for being envisioned burrowed? Is it not beneath the coal-white heated sands of my misbehavior? Or in the convenient pleasures of misjudgment. Either way your whisper wasn’t loud enough for my distracted eyes, those mobile shells recording the affairs of a race in which I am far behind, far too interested in spying on the obvious I often rest.

Spend time with me sister! The sister I know I don’t have, a confusing passenger in my mind, that continues to bleed upon the apple-peels in my daydreams, where has your real reason for being envisioned burrowed? Is it not beneath the coal-white heated sands of my misbehavior? Or in the convenient pleasures of misjudgment. Either way your whisper wasn’t loud enough for my distracted eyes, those mobile shells recording the affairs of a race in which I am far behind, far too interested in spying on the obvious I often rest.

Spend time with me sister! The sister I know I don’t have, a confusing passenger in my mind, that continues to bleed upon the apple-peels in my daydreams, where has your real reason for being envisioned burrowed? Is it not beneath the coal-white heated sands of my misbehavior? Or in the convenient pleasures of misjudgment. Either way your whisper wasn’t loud enough for my distracted eyes, those mobile shells recording the affairs of a race in which I am far behind, far too interested in spying on the obvious I often rest.

Spend time with me sister! The sister I know I don’t have, a confusing passenger in my mind, that continues to bleed upon the apple-peels in my daydreams, where has your real reason for being envisioned burrowed? Is it not beneath the coal-white heated sands of my misbehavior? Or in the convenient pleasures of misjudgment. Either way your whisper wasn’t loud enough for my distracted eyes, those mobile shells recording the affairs of a race in which I am far behind, far too interested in spying on the obvious I often rest.

Spend time with me sister! The sister I know I don’t have, a confusing passenger in my mind, that continues to bleed upon the apple-peels in my daydreams, where has your real reason for being envisioned burrowed? Is it not beneath the coal-white heated sands of my misbehavior? Or in the convenient pleasures of misjudgment. Either way your whisper wasn’t loud enough for my distracted eyes, those mobile shells recording the affairs of a race in which I am far behind, far too interested in spying on the obvious I often rest.

Spend time with me sister! The sister I know I don’t have, a confusing passenger in my mind, that continues to bleed upon the apple-peels in my daydreams, where has your real reason for being envisioned burrowed? Is it not beneath the coal-white heated sands of my misbehavior? Or in the convenient pleasures of misjudgment. Either way your whisper wasn’t loud enough for my distracted eyes, those mobile shells recording the affairs of a race in which I am far behind, far too interested in spying on the obvious I often rest.

carve yourself a fresh wound
between your shoulder blades
this is how your blood transfers to me:
hot steel draining into these canals uninvited

fallen angel named a saint in his glory days
i carry the burden of the fire that you are
light in the sky my feet bleed to outrun
i suffer from the weight of my misjudgment

always the Sun: all-consuming, and unburnt
a self-fulfilling knife, and a pacemaker pulse
with you, religion ends and my faithlessness begins
infliction serves to aggravate this ruined innocence

your ruthlessness is heaven-sent and eating me alive
you are the cause of everything, are too the cause despite
i look to you in blame, but it circles back to me
that traitorous, inevitable, infinite shape

there is no space inside your heart that i could ever win
i miss the story of the saint that you could've been