Time is a hallway, long and thin.
Open a door and see what's within.
See beauty or horror who knows what's inside.
Some are dreams that were left to die.
You will see laughter and glee.
And people who never were all they could be.
The disease of wallowing through time.
Is getting lost every night.
When you see someone who needs your help.
Do you spend you time or go someplace else?
Because the hallway is only so long there is an end.
Say goodbye to dreams, hopes, and friends.
For at the end of the hallway you see.
Is a coffin, waiting just for me.

I’ve always wanted to have a friend
Someone who’d be there until the end
A companion through moments of hardship
Not a deserter who just decides to skip

I’ve always wanted to have a friend
Someone who’s loyalty would never bend
Together with trustworthiness and honesty
He’s not a deceitful liar who just manipulates me

I’ve always wanted to have a friend
To have a bond no price could comprehend
For neither money, nor jewelry could ever replace
A friendship’s bond, an everlasting embrace

She built her walls high and mighty
For many have entered who only brought upon agony
Most were the lovers who promised her happiness
But eventually left her heart to pieces

Now, I knock upon her door
To her I promise no tears falling on the floor
But days with smiles and deafening laughter
And that I would be her happily ever after

Through her walls, she peeks carefully
Considering me, my words and sincerity
She said, I could come in
But trusting me, she still didn’t mean

She looked at me with scornful eyes
Still doubting, believing I was telling lies
If only I could take away all those hurtful times
If only I could return the girl with unbroken smiles

It would take time before I she would believe, years maybe
But I wouldn’t mind, I’d still love her eternally
I’ll make her happy once more, this I know above all
Until the lovely day her mighty walls would finally crumble

Reek havoc amongst yourself,
watch it burn from the ashes of neglect-
simmer like the silence inside your bones
remember the things you chose not to say.
As your blood boils to the surface
reflect on why you're about to lose your sanity again.
In the dark of the night-
I sit on the roof watching passing cars
like I'm the only one who pays attention to their breathing.
I watch the sky and try to see the Earth spin
try to make a musical instrument out of the wind
I hear music in everything.
Somewhere along the line it became the only safe haven
so the blood that spills over and the ashes that fly away
become not just a passing memory-
they become a church choir for mistaken identity
for the facade placed upon me that I eventually threw away.
I remember hospital beds better than my own childhood
and I think memory is the only game of russian roulette
I have ever been good at-
because either way I die.
From the memories or the wounds it gives me on the inside
either way it cripples me.
Attachment is not my forte
but it seems to linger on my mind
like it's a bad dream I can't seem to shake.
Independence has always been the way I grew-
flourished under my own autonomy
and patriarchy has always been the enemy-
times like these I realize how genetics are strong
how father and son can grow to become the same
how times can change more things
than they make consistent
and how consistency is dynamic
in this world where everyone is so static.
I have become myself once again
found the fleeting feeble female
I was once was and grew her into something I liked better.
Felt the indecision of discretion
and watched as freedom became my second nature
but now it is my sixth sense
my conversation with the higher power
the light at the end of this tunnel
so use your words wisely-
they can become a disservice to you
and make you wander onto the edge of your own lips
only to have someone else remove them with their kiss.
Your mind is your own greatest magic trick-
use it to your advantage.

I wonder if the ocean
ever gets tired of being pulled by the tides
if there are days
she just doesn't want to rise
and instead,
wallow in the abyss of her cries?

What about when
her feet are ripped from the shore
though she wanted to stay
a little bit more?

Caught in the fishing line
of time
barely stepping into a moment to play
before it's washed away.

Ever changing are the tides
her heart rides
and it's really no surprise
that's where the magic lies;
in a place hard to find
when she's sinking down blind
but when her face reaches the sun
you'll know it has really begun.