My breath heightened
It's just the same old grind I said
but the escalation of breath was undeniable
and suddenly my palms became frightened
No, no, no its just another night, nothing to dread
but your actions are just unjustifiable
beads of sweat begin to build,
and I can't deny the stress and tension settling atop my shoulders,
but, it's just another night, nothing to dread
certainly, you can't be dead,
and now the darted looks are starting to take place,
denying emotion is only for the skilled,
and tears are reddening my eyes,
but the skies aren't even beginning to cry,
and the sweat that built is ready to be spilt,
but no, no, no, those are the tears,
they've been building for years and now they're left to spill
but, its just another night,
there really is no need for fright despite my plight to take flight and set it all right,
for you, the tried and true, who opens the skies to be blue, for me
who can bring herself to see that you need to be free in light of all your plees...
but it's just another night,
and the bottle hits the ground,
and it's just another night,
unlike the rest that were in sight,
it's just another night,
of fright and desperation in the soul searching escalation,
it's just another night because nothing has ever been alright, any other night,
you just kept it out of sight like it was a special night,
but tonight...is just another night.

I often imagine that the moon, the owls and the darkness of the night might be my closest friends, they are my trusted companions through the few highs and the many lows. They comfort me when it's 3am and the rest of the world seems like they are sleeping soundly.

They’ve been witness to my tears and plees for this to all stop and comforted me when the four walls of this bedroom felt like a cage. The moon seems so distant yet its warmth kisses my cheek. Someday I might be able to force my body to ignore the protection of the darkness and live in the light of the sun. But I am manufactured to die slowly to the darkness and this body is like an incomplete metaphor for the disease that lives in my head without paying rent eating up all the light.

3 reggae doobies sat on a wall.
One of them was seven feet tall.
The second was short, and fat.
De **** was tough, n' carried a gat.

All of a sudden, a doobette walks by.
De tree doobies wanna giv'er a try.
De bluntz lean in a little closer.
Each givea whistle lik a poser.

De female spliff dismisses deir plees.
De doobies cut 'er off n' get on deir kneees.
Dey beg, and dey beg, and dey cry.
But she turns away and says, "nice try".

De doobies jump back, onto deir wall.
Didn't get how she resisted their call.
A new baety walks by, to test their luck.
Hopefully dis spliff will be down to ****.

The tall one walks around front.
She waves her hand, shooin' dat blunt.
The fat one takes a shot, talks derty.
Clearly she ain't in da mood to be flirty.

Da gangster ****** roll takes a shot.
Literally, he ******' shot 'er bumba clot.
De doobies flee, as the doobette falls.
Dere goes 3 reggae doobies who sat on a wall.


*Respect women. You never know when they might save ya life.

What should I write today?
I have too many throughs,
Too many emotions I wish to share.
I am a broken pieces of moments that i long to relive
I have created myself from all the dreams I have yet to become.
In this room I try to write anything other than my heartbreak
But all I can think about is how my memories have been tainted by your disappearance.
I am a graveyard filled with the loss of people I once loved.
I am an unfinished sentence because I refuse to give up on other people that have already left.
My plees echo in the valley of my soul never to be answered.
I hunger for words that express my need for release.
I crave to finish the unfinished sentence of my life.
I demand to piece myself back together so I may become complete.

Tum Tum Tum!

“Ladies and Gentlemen,
            We welcome you aboard to take flight
            and soar in a melting *** of degradation.
            Where we file you by nation and
            take elation in your degrees,
            specifically those on bended knee.

Your angry plees will reach deaf ears,
            and no amount of tears
            can move
            the System.

So sit back and listen to safety procedures:
            The seat belt is fastened such,
            in order to crush
            against dignity.
            The overhead oxygen mask will drop
            if engines stop
            and we need to crash,
           the freshest air always comes last.
            
Lifeboats offer the final cruise
            until red sharks *****
            on your blood.
            And turn cell phones off
            so we don’t flood
            the System.

We’re not done, so kindly shut up and listen:
            The ability to lunch is an epitome,
            simply a costly accessory,
            just hold your gut,
            and allow us to degrade
            some more.

We implore you to understand,
            for we do not.
            In the System you’ll find
            no heart,
            simply an enigma,
            no end
            no start.

All lights will be turned off
            for the duration of the flight.
            Tough.
            The enlightened can switch
            the overhead lamp,
            if you can reach
            as far as that.

To encounter turbulence is a must.
            For those who do not trust
            in us
            must be shaken
            and rattled.
            After all,
            eliminate the fight
            by eliminating the battle.

We hope you enjoy the flight,
            and know you will soar again soon,
            from noon to noon
            we move in unison,
            frequent fliers of
            the System.”

Tum Tum Tum.

Girl in the mirror
Girl in the mirror
People witness her smiles
Although she lives in fear

Suicidal thoughts
Are streaming through her brain
Thinking no one cares for her
Only causes her more pain

Her life is a burdon
To everyone she knows
She's just an outsider
Fake emotion is all she shows

The cutting and burning
Are not doing her well
Has she stooped so low as to
Sell herself to hell?

Doesn't give a ****
If she bleeds until she dies
Nobody notices the countless cuts
That represent her desperate cries

Trying to realize
Why she was made
Her hand begins to quiver
While she pushes away the ****** blade

Her last plees for help
Shine completely through her mask
She needs someone to love
Bever had the strength to ask

Girl in the mirror
Girl in the mirror
You don't have to live in pain
For all you agony has dissapeared

i have been to a place
in the back of my mind
forever i am there,
forever has no time.
its like my instincts tell me
not to follow my instincts
and ofcourse that leads me to a black hole
where my nerves and brain and veins aren’t even linked
and i laugh
and its blurry
and i cough and i win
i love and i lose
and i have no hands to lend.
they have evaporated into my finger prints
as i babble on and on
with the world surrounding me
and not a soul to lean upon
who will listen to my plees
and i lay here and i sit here
while i’m really on my knees

my mind is wrapped around
all and nothing
and i’m lost inside my self
trapped like birds without wings
and i never knew who i’d be
and i’m not sure who i am
if this is me in future past or present
or if i’m seeing what i see

the world is spinning here
in so many different ways
and this is not a day
it is a day filled with years

i scream out and the words are foreign
to myself and the ones who can’t listen
all the eyes are glazed
as the sky and grass glisten
unrealistically
and it confuses me
cause they gleam the same
and i can’t remember my face,
my morals, my name.