who knew that in about
4 years time,
or maybe
10,000 years lost in
10,000 multi hued tears,
id be on the same trip-
dancing to the same
shimmering inner grove as before-
braiding fresh cut
flowers-
delicate genital-hands, unfolding in prayer
into my subconscious mind
or perhaps into my hair-
saving colored prism fragments
of knowledge or nonsense-
digesting intoxicating
incense smoke into the
deep throated green streaked
laughter chasms
that are my lungs-
spinning vinyl, spun mind
unwinding, undulating
through string music-
contemplating the sunset's sweet
immaculate form, reoccuring
and balancing itself right outside my window-
dressing in shells, bones,
and beads; kaleidoscope fabric dripping from
the ******* like mother Kali in a Fellini
flick-
peeping out at heads slinking down
the ****** pavement streets-
my hairy angelic form grooving
intensely, spastic-
body flung, strung out in
hot patterns of
mirrored arms and legs-
brain brew bubbling; wicked, fantastic-
limbs waving and grabbing at
tangible tasty morsels,
smelling strongly of indigo
and patchouli-
the East smiling on me and
my intrepid journey to the ocean city-
head thrown back in
tranquil madness-
pipe smoke curling like
ancient hound howls from the corners
of my lips-
smiles spread like insanity, a wicked disease
lost in the forgotten finger painted
confounds of creamy
****** milk consciousness-
basking in lamplight
of the golden glistening
                                  Now.

Login
Log out
Log in again
I log into her profile
And never log out

its nights like these I wish we never met
That we wouldn't have made plans
That I wouldn't have fooled myself into thinking our future was set
The mind might forgive but the heart finds it hard to forget

Prolonged hope
Minor problems magnified through a mental microscope
Spiritual sessions on Sunday with Jewish rabbis
Wrote a broken note to the biship who passed it on to the Pope
If I can find a new spiritual dealer then maybe I can break away from these mad ties
Holding ur hand in China,rainbows at our feet fire flies illuminating the black skies
You were the provider of all my high
The believer of all my lies
N I could never quite stay away from all these thighs
I guess you leaving me never did come as a surprise
Cloud cover,I had to forget about sunny skies

Blue lake of tears
Let it all dry up and call it Salt Lake City
Meet a nice girl in a summer dress give her a rose n tell her she looks pretty
But cheat once she might show mercy do it again and she will show no pity
Advice to your current coz if he aint care full he be floating on this boat with me
Learning from his mistakes,hiding his face everytime he sees me

I can't keep living like this
Life is short, I need to live it in bliss
You with a smile only a dead man can miss
Holding on in the hopes of one last kiss
I need a new addiction,cause stalking you is keeping me from the life that I am missing
Can't let positivity escape my doubt..
No short cuts to happiness gotta take the longer route
I've invested too much
I've had enough
I'm Login out

But for how long
A ***** addiction that is so strong
A longing for love that is so wrong
things to tell at my next therapy session
My reoccuring obsession
.

life is never what it seems to be, always reoccuring with a thought as put upon the length of arms that revolutionize this thought. . .for those that can be bought,
is day like today less then feeling of want to rot, because so simple as a breeze brought down your temperment to be pleased. . .caught in a storm, that has outlasted
longer then your heart to feel content and warm, to feel the essence of a breath among a group of bad breaths, in other words, to breath among a group of brothers and sisters
from whom you can gain so much. But life is never what it seems to be, instead you look yourself in the mirror pointing at me, you, fool. Glowing from ragging frustration,
the toll blows for you unsurpassable deflation, because it is not for your hand that grows for the motion, to pick which ******* **** you want to lotion. Spearing the reasons,
the ego is your hero, born to work zero, and trusted with such hand to uphold all by command. To twist on the ****, that opens your door, to circumstances i certainly care less
the **** to continue to explore. But with this slight little mention, please pay close attention because this song is a *****. At least to explain the message, my whole is a
whole that takes life time to experience and grow, and appreciate the things that stoop all the levels around me, no barrier, no door, just genuine life experience to bring me
to come to this point to explain to the world something within the self, that is described by astute persons, for whom these ideas carry on to fulfill an immense part of
something that is casually slipped in and never thought about because it is told within reason that humanity cannot be without such astute person's idealogy. For **** sake my
friend, if your have many common sense, think of the common thing that has driven you to come to the conclusion that you have come to about anything. Everything is absolute and
existent and is evoked through the means. . .from the time of your dissapating freedom, as kids, not as adults, because look at how adults are this days. They teach their kids,
and they let others teach their kids, but the kids never get the feeling of being free. I promiss you, that cry or emotion you have experienced due to lack of friendliness from a
neighboring ****, it is an instillement that sparks up many motions of your life to believe into bizarre things the world portrays. For myself, I find the starting point of my
when I first breathed my first sensible air, when I walked in my own two feet without guidance as to where my eyes were seeing. How can a mind be so tender, lost by the misconformed
train thogh after train thought. That is why I find schooling such a fascinating ruthless thing that can be broken into several fashions as to why is that case. But not even
reason to fashion an answer that I know will and is definetly can be viewed to abhold a societal dismark of "wF"is wrong with that guy's mind. He must be **** casing a storm to
bring an ideaology of thought or some **** religion, but that's what so funny to me. I find everything in life comedic, non concerning except at times if I feel similar to
someone adjacent because that is their essence in my prescence, and I feel the need to comfort it, to bring back the importance of that self. The part of life I find so comedic,
how bits and bits and everything with **** have all so many fascinating
things to learn from, the progression of one's mind never attains self worth in the world with something interfering. That something interfering for example, is me personally
writing what is can be taken as pointless and presenting my writing to you how I say I do. But did I say how I am presenting this writing, absolutely not. So brings the funny,
that school teaches the aspect of disfigurament of a person's essence. This thing is a complete oblivion to everything and anything, that because even though I did not specify
how I tone myself on this paper, there is the predicament to assume that I am very angry deranged person who but pokes charasmatically at something no one can grip, because he
is portraying me the image the way I was bred to see. But then it is so **** funny, you can also take my words describing
all that I intend to explain and stick them against me to simplify your circumstances as to the causitive feeling your experiencing, and maybe the confusion that I am creating
noting a significant point that I do write intentionally without any figurative wording, just simply talking about this to evoke a presence of an essence within you that is hindered,
by what type of **** everybody is wearing, where they are starring, who is ******* and adoring, and who's simply the **** because they don't fit in a deranged group, developed by
ego-centric level stingers, who but want either good for you, or it is the drive to profit from you everything. That is, words blah blah, can take stroll
on one day's role and make no complete sense, and all they did were live the sense of a tangled mind that fostered on what has been in some form, taught, over
what you can call a lively existence, considering how much traumatizing headaches this could cause, and resembled among a group of similar constituents with similar reasons
as to whatever the situation might be. I could point this out within one sentence, but it wouldn't hold any deeper understanding of this essence, so instead I decide with all
my reasoning and tremendous experience that even to some, even at this gritty expertisians who grease up the world to guess everything based on study and reasoning by other humans,
who believe all these ideas are shifters to the mind but always stem the relentless, functioning without any perspectives open to the idea that mold humans into one spatial and far better
so called community, which in all it's case has lost the essence to preserve the self without a ***** on the back. That ***** of course is the communal ****, that builds from a
trigger of words, then they teach the brain as if it is known how to be as a functioning unit. The amount doesn't matter, the amount that is thought brings hope, but the most
amount to the self is the function of you, like I feel I function amongst anyone because I have come to terms and realize what really important things I have learned from my life.
My life to some is gripping, only because it sounds unbelievable, but of that life I found the same driving forces that drive madness even today, and has been reaccuring for as
long as some form of expression has been. And in all humiliation of humanity, or as I consider it digression of being self around the bounds of comfortability, it has been
a grand experience to see many a people transgress from the point of my meeting them with a continuous contact to the point of now, and then, and future plausible. But then
and future plausible for me stand out as notions needless of evocations due to the fact that the self is a dwindling factor hung by a rope to swing the way the self first portrayed
to me, and then to the direction away from the first encountered mind. But in all, without senseless ignorance, I do understand these things are studied for a reason, for a reason
that is workable to be as they are for some variables do affect person's in many different way. That is why, the sense of one roof and too many aloof is but a big spoof. With
sensibility, how can forging something into your life help you to achieve greatness within self to portray it in a manner plausible. The only way is as a current flows, so do
the gulls.



where do you. . .come from. . .so many leagues unbeknownst among my dreams.
life is never what it seems. . .until i met your eyes.. . that built
my stongest implication, dire in desire to live a life inspired. . .
but then so is, to dream upon what tends on building motivation. . .
life is beautiful sensation. . .
from the first rainfall with you meeting outside spontaneous realm. . .
we fought the solemn wind to calm our cumbered spirits. . .taking flight,
fighting what might have been. . .semeless to even entertain. . .lost in
each others warmness. . .everything we built tended harmless.

now see how we have. . .related to each other's hearts. . .left the scrutinity
at obscurity prolonged on scale of mirror. . .where it has always belonged.
now it's just time darling
i promiss it wont be long until our roots bind the maximum strong.

from even across the plains, and mountain long trip stains. . .i feel
less pain. . .from what's the phrase non loose then gain, consorting time
absorbing each other's essence in rhyme.
the deepest of sensation of you. . .the meekest of me, makes me be the simple thing
that i've reconnected to . . .to realize, the sensation of you. . .from our first
encounter, i felt deep into your eyes. . .what agree's none behind with lies. . .
you evoked the deepest motion within my sphere of emotion not to betray myself within
this realm and dark frivolous potion. . .for my first set of emotion set on your tone behind
this potion. . .

i face you eye for an eye of every day until i die, but will ever will i die. . .not with you
never. . .darling angel, angel you are my expressive tone to call you so. . .nothing more
is the essense of you that you seem to implore, how busy life must be. . .we need feel free
to good ridance from this fee that life doesn't instill our good griefs beyond simple joys and beliefs. . .
for simply darling we are each other's heart beats, if it's simple smell of you
i will carry out my deeds in hell. . .beneath on hearth this earth, where all of us have been given
birth. . .but sent to spend what is driven by multipolluted cord, the time in blunt approach from
the thing that planted our roots. . .

how i feel you is simply too rich for some dirt to enrich you. . .i simply love and cherish
every bit of your essence, it has lifelong presence that even doing what they call
reminiscing, can't surpass living without missing what they have been reminiscing. . .
i cherish you beyond what little faith can teach about having bigger faith, when all my hopes
ride faithful slopes without elongated stops and rope bearing hopes. . .
my life i see to the extent to remorse only what some feel beyond scope of too openly. . .
but how can i retreat on what i can't stop to feel to protect you from, to their heads we are getting closely. . .
how in the scope of your first essence, can i give up to give way to ruin such pure essence. . .

i understand the world makes a feeling for such pure feeling is counted by blessings. . .
and in order for us to make it, that thought i feel senseless baking . . .constant roll of assorted
reasons for why we bleed to them treasons . . .for how can i express, how simple love doesn't
just digress, or something with time you invest. . .it's simply have been a joy of building
together a foundation for our nest. . .**** the rest. . .**** the pest. . .the world is the best
when sleepers are put to rest and the spark of commune are dwellers dwelling on these mischivers'
locked up chest. . .
to find out that darling. . .you simply are a joy to give me whole, that i'm not uninspired troll
reluctant to breath beside the one he placed his greed upon. . .or her, or it. . but all the essence
is closed and beat, by some known with ideals humanity can't consider too farfetched to bare to grit. . .
and sway to the essence that i hold in my glances. . .are as simple as these branded constructed norms
that most tend to manipulate and distort to one contorted form. . . .so all can bend into one socket for 365
degree view that most tend to agree. . .but never really see.

i know it's many there with this essense around the breeze of an aura, that simply are stranded too far apart by such horror.. .
to relent their essence with their prescence. . .to whom Barbarians find the essence is planted full on messes.
but how can we relate to such things darling. . .when the first glow of your essence showed me life full
of memories by the smile in your eyes, glowing beauty of any sort. . .i feel the world will someday . . .
take flight. . .in my way, but **** that. . .i'm to speak when my message is too simple, provoked only by the
thought, "protect the world its miser mother has been beaten". . .i can never relent, the message that is never
but to contradict what's life has not eaten. . .because of the times put to squares, living life, fostering a step back, into recluce. . .these biches wont even
say cause their too ****. . .to figure out that there's a worrior to stump them pleaded sheets out of wood. . .
i say this out for your sarcasm, elongated this song a bit to give you big ******. . .so when you repose, you
think nothing but what side are the pro's. . .and enter them into oblivion, grasping each by the billion, how
can i repose for i know, without one word it is and has been always come down to the special chosen million. . .

because my darling, i feel the miser that this essence in me you inspire, is up and target for no good. . .for
these pleaded fockers granted themselves unrelentless priveleges for centuries, changing diepers to giving
blood diamond marriages. . .riding on what they call prestine carriages. . .oh what,you don't recognize this
what the world has come to building from everybody's demise. . .feeding on high rise. . .splitting cots in the
rots, most alluded with plots and continued building upon the essence of you, keeping you stewed, brewing up a flu. . .
to this day when i met you. . .
will never cease your memory by only that it was circumstance. . .romance among thieves denying our chance to dance. . .
with one glance, their world just plopped a chance. . .for i know they know who im refering to, without a glance
i'm sure they feel my stance just to look **** eyed puking. . .**** blocking their world to rocking, while else where goes to foster under
this ugly monster. . .stooped on a porch ******* their air, without any underwear. . .haha must be due to how
much pull goes to their hair. . .how do i, they feel ****** diddlidy ****, what, is this person a human or a
restored frame of mind living. . .i can't be what's in my eyes to be believing, but i simply am retarted man. . .
a ******* rough psychological fighting bluff, to them i would. . .but trust me, how could i in my life, i
never could.. . .fall to false pretention, that life is a great invention, that my desire's are for simple
hires. . .for i know my life evolves around that which your first essence, darling, we built stronger everyday
to our future of what we call present. . .

life with you, i simply can't resent. . .but figure out what's best
to make what we don't need to make. . . because the essence uproots life's shrivel of what they call romances. . .
rooting upward from the seed we planted on the day people deside to bleed
all over the notion, that this emotion they conquered stems from shot of elixir handed down from the heavens by
some they call cupid fixer. . .relentless, they push through many dances. . .all so strained and constricted by many
glances, restricting their free essence to feel in whole their life is shot down by simple messes. . . .
but you, none taken, broken and mistaken. . .how can simple things be so. . .when you know my essence for you is
far greater then what one instance can remark for the whole, i feel simply. . .protect you from their hole and
bind you with my essence that strives in whole. . .even through tormenting lonely dances. . .when i saw the world an ugly form. . .
nowhere to want to run to, or feel
resentment.. . where's life going to go. . .if my essence in a whole feeds you. . .away to their
mysterious goal. . .i wouldn't have the patience to ***** their abnormal pretence, as if life is sweet with
such mysterious fowl. . .create little thought to create bigger picture, many aditions just create tensities
among those who bicker, loosing control each time only quicker. . .that's why it's never lesser to speak for the lesser
dresser, or the person they showed you, that looked like he ******* told you, but instead they made the mistake
to grow lower. . . cowering even bolder. . . what **** is the point of that. . .to say it none meeker as if its meant to outcast the bleeker
. . .i'm not that so. . .to scowl like fowl crackhead, loosing self reliance to gr

i love the smell of breath smoldered in alcohol, its sweet and warming, it makes sense until morning like most midnight performing involving you does, i love the way that words taste when their hot and misplaced coming from a mouth laced with hasty lies and replaced theighs, tonight you grab mine and I disguise my surprise, touching you back with dispise, you kiss me like youve done a thousand times, and i know you're not wanting any reply or goodbye, not tonight when you push and i gasp, things happening so fast that you might think youve been unsurpassed but my respect for you comes in dead last. "We have a weird relationship," but really you're giving me permission to ignore the suspicion that gathers when you lay me down for submission, your disposition is hungry and mad, fast and glad, things that don't make sense to a young lad like chad. maybe you know there will be pain in this lame game you play, everything to gain but nothing to maintain, you got it all worked out,  dont restrain, pay attention to the inhumane way he chooses to entertain his left brain, his **** busts a nut and a vein, sputtering to a stop like its gotta a sprain, but really its just a ******* puppy wishing it was a great dane.

dull thumping, deep in the subconscious
pineal reawakening
decalcification in progress
seeking my alien alter
the union necessary
for the next evolutionary jump --
the cliff is breezy
mist swirls below
undefinable guttural growls from the depths
echo off vast canyon walls
sending a shiver up my unnaturally curved spine
forming in the misty shroud
a face of the ancient gods appear
locked eye to eye
the command is for blood and worship
a thin smile crosses my lips
clamping down on my own tongue
until the thick red flowed down my neck and chest
I spit my ability to speak
into the very face of god
thinking ‘worship me, *****’
****** distortion
rage filled eyes penetrate deep
and a chasm opens
BWOMP BWOMP BWOMP
the 5:32 a.m. alarm
sounds
time to prepare for another
day of work –

I'm angry when I see you yet its been years since I loved you
I want to pretend that we were never "in love"
I want to pretend you never touched me
I want to pretend you never guilted me into doing things
I wish I could forget everything we shared
I wish you never lied to me
I wish you never saw me so vulnerable

I'm angry when I remember you sliding your hand up my thigh
I want to pretend you never kissed me
I want to pretend I never enjoyed it
I want to pretend I never wanted you
I wish these memories would fade.....

I came into the world early
spitting, screaming, clinging
already growing hair from
a blush colored birthmark on my scalp

my hair grows and I do too.
Outside I scrape my knee and
**** the blood from it, hoping
that will take the hurt away

I find the hurt years later
in front of a bar where a
handsome demon is offering
a whiskey, promising beauty and goodness

if I only drink his blood. Wait.
I've been here before. This is
my mother's dream. She drops
her spatula at the stove

when I tell her of it
in waking hours. Did you drink
it this time? Did you drink it?
She begs.

Yes mother - I drank his blood
then I came here and
went to bed.

for oh so long you stayed,
ripping my heart and brain to shreds,
stealing away my innocence,
willing me to do awful, dreadful, things,
that sounded beautiful coming out of your mouth,
you said it was the answer,
and I was foolish enough to
believe.
you said it would help, and it did and didn't.
you said that it would make me feel better,
you pried and pried and I caved.
and let my mind take over my actions.
and let the feelings sink away.
and so you hid,
ran away to a little corner,
making me believe I was free of this addiction, free of your grasp, free of your pounding fists upon my lungs,
and so I tried, and tried and tried and tried,
and it wasn't worth it,
because your drag me so slow that,
half way back, felt just like the beginning.
felt jus like a half real smile, felt like a half way honest comment,
but you see,
your imaginary leave of absence,
led me to believe,
I was out, I was done,
I was
better.
but, maybe you should have just stayed,
because,
now your back,
and while I thought I was climbing, I was sinking,
even lower than before,
where there is no branch for me to use,
where the light, is a figment of my imagination,
so your back, and thriving, feeding off of there beautiful comments,
gaining control through someone else's words, and actions,
so you have retuned.
will you stay, or put me under that spell again?
will you finish your intentions,
or will I prevail?

The eagle searches, circling, senses strum like spider silk.
Sorrow’s scent slides up on a sea breeze.
A solitary slave spits sullenly into the spray.
Silently, suddenly, the sentinel streaks down.

Beak breaks skin, breaches bone, crimson blots the ocean’s foam.
Defenceless, relentless, the bird blurs in a barrage of blood.
Banished, betrayed, the ravaged titan sways -  
between the rocks that form his cage.

His foe retreats; a closing caw as crooked claws cleave meat.
Head bowed in defeat, our hero strains as chains bind
hands and feet.
Enduring bonds cut deep and bleed him bittersweet.

Cast against the crags,
this castaway’s castigated cries call out
to no-one.
Chastised, he squints with hollow eyes
towards a lifetime of the bird’s reprise.
  
Furious. Fists flex,
thrashing against his fortress.
Face furrowed into a frown he flings forward
and for once finds his foot…
unfettered.  

Bindings broken, his bonds bite terra firma,  
as first a foot and then a hand finds favour.
Boundless, he bellows at the sky
as the flotsam of his freedom floats on by.

Reprieved. Aggrieved. He is restless in release.
An errant righteous line repeats.  
Relentless in its beat, it rings out like raw steel on teeth.
A ricochet that disturbs his sleep

“Is this victory, or defeat?”

Racked by reminiscence,
his reality and responsibility remain.
Warped roots rammed down
with rock-filled boots.
Resistance seems obtuse against such reoccuring fruit.

Reluctant, resigned, he rattles out a sigh -  
the last gasp of this transitory high.
Reaching for the rope and tack he re-binds the knots
that hold him back.  
With one last glance towards the past
he hoists his soul upon the mast.

Ceaselessly.
Senselessly.
The
sentinel
streaks
down.

Constantly it seems,
I squeeze luscious fruit,
kiss hardened-tips
& find myself
in compromising positions
with your penetrating pretty-eyes.

I'm sure I must
be sweet-dreaming,
'cause I wake up
empty in the morning,
mind & my body,
spent & smiling.

It's cold outside
Fog is just rolling in
I think it's a quarter after 8
Seems like the moon
Is playing peak-a-boo in the sky
Its quite fascinating
I guess I will miss all of this
I just wrote a poem
Three pages front and back
Simply saying I was going to die
That I didn't want to end it
But I had a feel that I had too
A feeling that I was the reason
To the reoccuring temporary problem
So I have the permanent solution
And maybe this solution
Could inspire the lives of others
Maybe my death could bring peace
To a family so torn and broken
Maybe their tears will be the glue
That will forever hold them together
Or maybe they wont show
Maybe they are sick of me
I know they don't
Because they are afraid to look me in the eyes
Afraid that I'm too dark
That my whole life is meant to revolve around them
So this is just a way
For me to say goodbye
I already had 40 pills
From the 8 bottles with a prescription
For about 4 different disorders
The 2 doctors think I have
It hase only 1 name
Its ******* depression
I'm not insane
Bipolar, paranoid, or OCD
I am me and your greed is destroying me
So I'll take another 30
All at once so I can be sure I'm gone
Hope this poem
Makes you realize
That you should of listened
When I asked to hear my poems
To listen when I was ******
So I hope that guilt kills you
Litterally decays your body
From the inside out
But wait like you said
Last night when we fought
"It would be another poet dead and gone"
Well *******
I was never a poet
Just a kid trying to relieve his pain
The very pain you gave me
So adios
I'm gone
I can feel the chemicals mixing in my stomach
It hurts like hell
But I guess being free has its dues

Alone & solemn..
a sentimental probem..
resentment & hate, only fate..
breakfast morning, leaving mourning..
breathing overtakes, self absorbing..
Loving great & holding less..
Clenching more, feels depressed..
only person, feels like a juggle..
tearing heart, constant struggle..
so what if the worst really happens..
reoccuring, inevitably fastened..
I lose you & my happiness..
even through an easy mean..
I'll gleam through, a pleasant being..
so take my soul & stomp it out..
For it wont cast through everlasting doubt..
Then hate will rein & I will fade..
because truth will conquer & life will invade..
with whirly eyes, red & throbbing..
horrored ***** with their knees locking..
babies not a truthful sight..
with all infertile, feeling strive..
wondering what if all, succumbs to this..
exhaling bliss & inhaling ****..
So I'll blister for just one more lie..
humanity enduring the pain through time..
similar emotion altercations..
a lifetime of abomination..
reincarnated, into a new life..
a silly soulful prototype..

You stood there starring at me, with those cold dead eyes
and you wouldn't let me leave. I begged and begged.
They called and called for me, but I couldn't answer
My voice was muffled, trailing off into the distance
The wet dirt felt like home to me, I curled up in a ball
wept and wept, but you wouldn't let go of me
You shut me out of my paradise. Years and years
passed, but you would let me in. Was it too much
to ask? That all I wanted, was my life back.
© 2014 Christina Jackson

I made a mistake i thought i could have something else because i could not have the one

Well i can see why people are flawed i know this  why did i realize this because i think i know who i really care for

I am  at this point stronger than ever and i get it  theres more waiting and pain and anguish  then anything

I see  the light of the end of the tunnel because i am willing to keep things the way they are but  we all can dream and wish  but   since my honesty is to unfiltered

why on earth did i walk away  because i am still here and hears the brutal truth that  everyone needs to know

9 days   i am leaving  and the reason i am leaving is i need a fresh start failure here comes back like a reoccuring nightmare

why on earth am i walking away from my home town the reason is i am sick of the fickle people  who toy with me  and one more thing i will always be there for the ones i love  the friends and family i just won't be here so failure can not follow

wonder were your off to, on you new found path
hope the ground below is softer, than your wrath
it took all my senses, to finally find
that I was not the one, who was blind
so this reoccuring theme, I shall define

another glass of wine, wont change my mine

like an emotional sponge, I soak up your words
to clean and relieve you from all those swords
letting you know, I'm here for you, and move forward
but your eyes said no! I'm still bored
you always live your life on your own accord

another glass of wine wont change my mind

so now I'll bid my fondest adieu
let you find your real you
as you walk beyond me, out of view
hope the memories wont go askew
of all the times I kept loving you

Staring down the barrel of a 45
Looking straight into the dark
Knowing what lays down
This ghostly corridor
Could take the pain away

On the edge of this 20 story building
Looking down at the earth
Feeling like an angel
About to fall into hell
Hoping for peace to finally find me

This is not where I belong
On this corner of Life and Death
Pushing the remnants of my sanity
Waiting patiently for you
To tell me you love me

On top this ladder
Nuse tight around my neck
Looking for a way out
Of this reoccuring nightmare
Knocking heavily on Deaths door

Laying with this blades edge
Slowly placed on my wrist
Knowing this poisonous life in my veins
Will eventually bleed out
Bringing on the silent darkness

This is not where I belong
Here with Lady Death
I belong in your arms
Held close to your beating heart
Knowing how much I am loved

It doesnt matter
Where exactly I belong
But a future with you
And a lifetime in your heart
Is better than any mans heaven

I dont care
Where it is I belong
As long as you are next to me
Helping me save myself
From this untamed demon inside me

Retrospect reoccuring,
Endless thoughts back tracking
Into what could have been,
What would have been,
If different foot steps were taken,
Another path chosen,
Other words spoken.

Years and years now,
I lived in the past,
Keeping past hardships and mistakes
Just one step away.


What a fool was I,
to make the past my future.

Now is what matters,
The now brings truth,
The now brings joy,
The now brings change.

I sit in the now,
Absord the now,
Give thanks to the now,
And I flourish.

I feel that I am trapped by my dreams
Trapped in my dreams,
These things I need
Well it seems I need,
I need a vision of my future
I see my past in front of me
My brain traps me
This bed traps
This women laying next to me..
But, wait its just a dream
Please don's ask me what this means
Mars meets Jupiter
But only in my dreams
Define for me the definition
Of the things soon to be
It doesn't seem soon to me
What are we to be, is she to me
I do not see the answer
I only see the truth
The truth is coded in my viens
These hearts beats share dialect with my brain
Thinking of her but is she thinking of me
Who can seee the innner me?
Life lays in my bed, but she is mean to me.
She whispers to me my past, my pain
Tickling her tongue with their names
Pounding at my bones hoping they break.
My past, My pain
Why won't it go away?
Visions haunt my pupils
I can still feel the pain.
Reoccuring, memories of suprressed memories
I remember when I compressed those memories
Left them deep within me..Now they lay in my bed
Like an old friend, smirking, "Suprised to see me"
The things I fear, well things I feared
Nothing left to fear, besides those memories
Fate giggles at me
Death Laughs at me
The furneral its in the past so dont ask me
I dream of my future
Please let me catch my future.
Mars meets Jupiter
I see this women but only in my future.
Dreaming of my past
I can't forget the future
Visions burn my pupils
My bed is empty
I'm alone
But not in my future

Memories, darkness, unforgettable pain
My weariness is your sickening gain
Falling into your stupid, mind-boggling game
Each and every time, it's always the same.

This trickery has led me straight into a deep black hole
They call it depression, I say it's my soul
Sit, cry, review my sorrow
Hoping and wishing I see no tomorrow

These scars I have thrashed so deep in my wrists
Are all my crushed dreams will consist of
When you abandoned me, terrified, alone
I accepted hell was my only home

Getting used to the hurt, entering day in and day out
Now that my mind has freed itself, nothing else to think about
To call this suicide, would simply be a crime
This reoccuring process, is what has caused me to die

As i pick up the barrel, this seems like my only escape
Finger hesitates on the trigger, eager to enter my only fate
Sweat gushes out, and tears pour out of my eyes
At innocent gunpoint, because of your lies

This room's getting darker, spinning as my vision blurs
She fires a bullet, his selfishness was what murdered her
As she lay deceased, sprawled out in her ****** blood
Tears and fear dismiss her body, her hope begins to flood

Free from the sopping red river, she is away from all anguish
How she begs god to forgive her, this was her only wish
As god began to speak, in her life, he took control
He did what he thought was right, before the devil plunged her soul

When her family arrives, to her flesh on the floor
The scene will leave them confused and soar
All she would say, is the pain had led her to a style of strife
She took the one exit that would exempt her from her life

She* came, I conquered
I licked, I tasted
She moaned, I accomplished
I practiced, I mastered
She needed it, I supplied.
*Reoccuring

Silhouettes of broken dreams,
Nothing is ever as it seems,
Happiness is a dried up stream,
Deaf ears fell on violent screams,

Crowded streets on a night lit sky,
Warmth of another and new lullabies,
No longer will you see my selfless tries,
Reoccuring deaths of one man's mind,

Hell hath no fury like my anguished heart,
Thought after thought of those secret nights,
Lake water stills, as there are NEW thrills,
As i lay dying.......til death do us part..

Is there redemption for a man who was slain?
Can he ressurect from so much pain?
Can he right his wrongs?......or is he too late?

Perhaps we'd better start from the beginning
Before all the years of selfish hurts and sinning,
To each other there be truth and recourse,
I can not go on with so much remorse,

Eternal damnations and lasting temptations,
Lowering our caskets into the grave,
To start from the beginning is only for the brave,
Is there a chance.. slight hope...for old new romance?

Deaf ears fell on violent screams,
Happiness became a dried up stream,
I do not dare to ever not see it as it seems,
Please turn on the light, of silhouetted dreams...

On a cold, wet night, I wander through the city streets. I walk by the buildings whose lights illuminate me, only briefly, until I pass them and am thrown into the darkness again before I realise it.
             It reminds me of my life: The buildings are my days; they pass without incident or delay and then the night comes stealing away my time.
                               The reoccuring alleyways are my weekends; I want to just run down them, laughing, splashing in the puddles, climbing the fence and jumping off. Discovering new things and adventuring...
                   And then I realise, I'm no longer a child; It's too late for my life to happen... I've blown it off, going to school, college, getting a job, working hours on end. I've wasted my life trying to get a life. Even the holidays are just other days now. And then I go to bed, exhausted, with nothing to look forward to, but doing it again tomorrow...
                The alleyway ends... and the lights from the buildings illuminate me, again...

On empty nights, I watch the flickering lights of the empty streets
At 2 in the morning, A time made for a selected few. The time where either minds or bodies wander into strange places or strangers or both.
Like a reoccuring dream, only one scene plays despite the endless succession of "ifs" and "buts" laying across my tongue like crippling bodies finding its way out, but acquiring Stockholm syndrome before it does.
How can something end 7 times over?
How can you not see the end coming?
One after the other, the questions barrage in and I can make up all the reasons and excuses, but never really answering the question in the process.
They say that perfect love casts out all fears,
But did I love you too much that I lost the fear to lose the inner parts of me, or at the very least, my intuition to know when it's not gonna get any better?
That we're not gonna get any better than this?
That we've ran out of fuel to go around in circles?
And by the 6th time we tried to jumpstart the engines, have my hands calloused thick enough to not feel the cuts from broken down wires and shattered glass sprinkled around everything you hand to me,
like how you sugar coat the way you tell me you don't love me the same anymore?
And when does the pain end?
Or does it really ever end?
Or do you just get used to it that it becomes a part of you?
According to medicine, feeling pain is a way for your body to tell you that something's not right.
The last time i saw you walking out on me, i felt a slight, gnawing pain in between my chest.
When you closed the door, the pain disappeared.
So i guess what i wanted to ask you was,
Am I still your 2am thoughts,
Or have you learned to sleep by 1?

I’m scribbling this numb.

Very, inexplicably, numb.

there’s a frigid draft coming in from my window,
and, at this moment,
I feel that if i were not bound by endless expectations and worldly aspirations,
I would probably go with the breeze and leap from the third floor.

praying that I land on the ground hard enough to wake myself up.

I’m scribbling this worried.

Very, knowingly, worried.

there’s a reoccuring dream, every other day.
when I am knee deep in my poison,
diving into glass shards and trophy caps.

an array of chanting.
I am the reigning queen, of,
Nothing.

and, here I am.
Up to my neck in caps, swimming in remains,
on the third floor,
ready to wake myself up again.

Three….
Two…
One…

Wait, how did I end up back in my bed?

I stand in a pit of my own despair,
my mother close by,
the very person who made the problems arise,
yes, she gave me life,
one I didn't ask for,
one I've many times asked to end,

But I live on,
fighting every second, everyday,
to keep the crimson lines from reappearing,
afraid that one day, I may give in,
to the suduction,
of a blade so sharp, it calls my name,
the way it says my name is metallic against my ears,

But no,
I mustn't give in,
This is a battle most won't fight,
but I fight it to win,
maybe be beaten and battered in the end,
but standing just the same, wrists clean,

Whom do I have to blame?
for my reoccuring depression,
Built for blame (but doesn't take it well)
Laced with shame (but puts on a smile for show)
maybe its because I was born drunk,
and probably damaged,
yes, alcohol syndrome was my chosen fate,

Thanks Mommy Dearest. You're the greatest.

Do we all not have our ups and downs?
have we all not had our reoccurring thoughts,
that just make you want your mind to shut up,

Have we all not stayed up for hours,
just because we couldn't sleep,
or possibly because you just didn't want to,

Do these questions make your mind ache?
and make you think of reoccuring sorrow,
while loosing the hope for a better tomorrow,

Can we explain the minds process of healing,
without revealing too much of ourselves,
and without letting all those bitter thoughts come out,

You know, those thoughts,
the ones that you dare not speak,
in an attempt to look, not so weak,

The ones that leave you laying in bed,
without sleeping a wink,
and you pull the covers over your eyes as the sun comes up, and shines bright,

The thoughts that leave you feeling hollow,
and not giving you anything to fill the voids,
in your ever so empty soul

Over extended.
Is a reoccuring theme.
Limits.
Physical or mental.
Plague the race like those that litter the edges with temptation.
To the point that running is no longer an option.
Looking down at the unmoving ground.
Watching the cement dry.
Disorienting the opponent.
Creating a cast of skin that never falls.
Only smiles.
What was the goal.
When some other form finishes.
Words have failed.
Just as fighting did.
And the walk back to the starting line.
Is so crowded.
The gun sounds and reaction takes hold.
Trying to hurdle the gravestones left behind.
Yet one can't help but place flowers at each one.
Nameless they stay.
Remembered they remain.

Today I smoked my last cigarette
Poured my last shot of jack
The reoccuring days of rain and thunder are no more
In the sunshine is now where I'm at

Time has been ticking on
Reminding me its been to long
I've been holding on to a past so dreary
Its time to sing a new song

Though memories are inked onto my soul
They're no longer on my mind
Brighter days, no longer in a haze
Is what I needed to find

This is my first time writing...

I have this reoccuring dream... I have a peice of gum in my mouth.  It sticks to my teeth, and I cant get all of it out.  Maybe I shouldnt talk so **** much.

Clouded with rage,
overloaded with hate,
yet I have no idea,
as to why I feel this way,
you say you don't know what to say,
maybe you should just realize,
I'm not okay,

Maybe its just all too much,
maybe I'm just not so tough,
but I have no idea,
as to why I feel this way,

I can't take the reoccuring drama,
like kids, the chatter fills my ears,
and weakens my heart,
but nothing I try to do can reverse,
the curse of depression, thats dwelling inside me.

somewhere under the earth lies the truth. somewhere written in the heavens; the true nature is out there. every single living creature being on anything at all is an ugly distortion of the truth. i’m not saying we’re supposed to spend our whole lives devoted to becoming a less-ugly rendition; i’m not saying pleasing God is the answer for me. we are all meant to be faulted,
flawed.  we should not be tortured to claw at a nothingness we can never
obtain. there is
a lot left in the emptiness of rain. there is a lot left in the pair of eyes that refuse to meet my gaze. we fall to the basis as we raise the base higher “be this much – reach this level – for God’s sake, go to college!" God does not need me in college. maybe i will go there and struggle to find God in the faces that pass in the dust after it settles;
there will be peace there. there really is no need for this; for things to be this way. we are keeping ourselves in cages and God is throwing away the key. it is not his job to set us free. it is not his will to enslave us. it is WE that don’t let ourselves be. the scary, sad, condemning thing—that’s the irony.
we are fractals. reoccuring patterns deemed nothingness but:
there are colors there. there are colors within the folds. “life is but a soaring dream”
when we see, we laugh, we think, we pray, we dream; we be.
when we cry, we die, we fail, we lose, we pray, we dream; we be. there is not  one separate thing we ever did see. we are all fractals. reoccurring dreams.
reoccurring days when nothing seems to change—those are the still moments. the still moments are sacred. for it is only in the stillness (if we ever let ourselves be still—in thought, form, in space)
that the peace will come. the truth will come. and the truth will come ugly; to remind us we are ugly too. that dreams can turn to dust and we can watch and feel as they disintegrate.
the truth will never be pretty. i hope we can find the recognition to allow
peace to flow –
and i will marvel all the same. it is the truth that makes me stay.

Somehow I’m not certain.
There are reoccuring instances of peace
Pure joy.
Still, I crumple.
Can I really give everything I have?
My life?
Somehow the peace disappears into doubt.
It isn’t enough.
I'm not enough.
Not enough to take the leap.
Help me be strong enough
To take that leap.
I’m sick of standing on the top of this cliff
Waiting for my life to happen.

The wretched treachery of the flesh
is a sip of nectarine tea in the shade of a willow,
a reoccuring dream,
a for sale sign in front of a derelict funeral parlor.

Inroads to wisdom
are just slopes to slip off of,
off into open air to elope with
unknowing; the oldest whirlwind ever to be tricked into a jar.

Really it’s all just counting stars like heartbeats
and then taking them for granted.

Im sorry for that ****.

should be put away.

i know the rules,

the diatribe with grief,

reoccuring.



we have seen the wheel spin,

slower now.



feeling seeps

into winter.



there were a few of them,

or was it two?



sbm.

distance;
i keep the distance between us.
we cant touch nor talk.
as i tip toe past your bedroom i make sure to not let a creak sound the floor...
i freeze
my body becomes a muse to the world around me.
reoccuring
once
again
i want to speak.
my mouth cries silent whispers into the air.
ive managed to perfect silent tears.
replaying to many times i cant concur what is real and what lies.
your figure is now a lost presence.
a secret is what this is.
one i shall keep and not speak.
my mouth sewn shut.
a muse to the world around.
a muse to my loved ones who refuse to listen.