Dream OverdoseShe sent the birds back,To their home in the sky.She watched them fly,Overdose on dreams.At least that’s what it seemed.
The SerendipityMusic penetrates our souls in a way that very few things can. If the world could just drift in the serendipity of music, maybe then there would be peace.
Where Flowers GrowMy mind,wanders to a place,where flowers grow.
Birthday ThoughtsThoughts unravel,like birthday ribbons,as time turns solid.
Poignant PainShe paints poignant pain,with a little brown brush,made of hair,and despair.
Untitled 2The beautiful music,lulls her to sleep.Each playful note;the calming beat.
Flowers That Bloom In ReverseI search for a voice of reason,a person to explain my pain;why some flowers bloom in reverse,while others thrive in the rain.
FreedomFreedom,Is the ability to spread your wings,And fly so high,That even the sky,Can’t complain.
Rain FormThe pain slides down her cheek,in the form of rain.
Words Are Powerful ThingsYou’re so angryYou let words swarm up inside.Screaming to get out.They yell and shout.They sit there,And fester.Turning into horrid things that should never be even whispered,In the softest tone.You get so angryCause you’re so afraid.Like so many other peopleYou let your fear burst into rage.The monstrous words inside of youRefuse to remain in their cages.You let those words escape your lips,All of the sudden you feel like your words have killed someone.As you see their face.Words are suddenly bullets.They’ve pierced your victim’s heart.Fragments of a once pretty, friendship scatter on the floor.The pieces so broken, I doubt you could find all of the shards to make it whole again.There’s a slamming of a door.Whether that be real,Or just a metaphor.To say you’ve been locked out,Pushed away.From this once dear friend of yours.I hope one day.You’ll find better wordsTo form a key.So you can find your way back to them.
I am LostMy thoughts are orcasTrapped in bathtubs.Macrocosms trappedWithin microcosms -Stuck, glued tight,Melting like Dali's clock,In a cock fightWith my conscience.Sometimes I forgetAll that regretBurning through -A pain so foreverThat I hardly everFeel it anymore.A cut so deep and quickThat it stops -Time is static -Before it bleeds.Eyelashes likeDandelion seedsFluttering in the wind.So much to see.My heart is vacant,My lungs made of leadAnd both are my enemiesBecause I'd rather be dead.But no I wouldn't.Not anymore.I'm fake, made of a paper -A corporate rock whore -And I don't knowWhat I stand for.But maybe I don't have toStand for anything -A word without a definitionStill leaves a markOn pure paper.A meaningless sparkCan still become a fire.A tickle of loveCan still become desire.
untitledthere are a thousandunwritten love letters in your eyesnow I keep thinking aboutgravityand the color greenall I know is thatmy skull's beenovertaken mapped cleanwith inkwarriors traversing well worn pathsboots leaving tracks acrosschests and necksand it's comfortablethis sinkingit's not like drowningmore like slowly loweringinto hot bathwaterand we are just skin and cosmosbodies and wordsour tongues landlockedwe are adrift inour own little seawe've plucked our wingsand now we can't flytell me the truththat the sky's overratedI'd rather be with youon the groundor buried beneath itskeletons entwined truthfullyI've always thought heaven was a pretty sort of liebut I've read a book or twoabout heavenor people's idea of itat leastand I disagree with myselfpopping thought balloonson the idea that heavenis in the way your eyes fold origami swans when you smilethat shitty laughthat hollow above your heartlike your chest's caving i
Happy Songs on the RadioI don't write about happy things.I don't listen to songs about romance.I can't feel what the artist is singing so passionately about.The longing to know what it's like makes me want to scream and shout.The way people write and lace words together,About how happy and perfect they see the world.Has always been a stranger to me.I wish I could see,The way you did.I really do.I wish I could feel the same way as you.To be able to hear the lyrics,'I love you'And picture someone to match those three words.I wish I could hear these songs,About how everything is perfect.Absolutely nothing is wrong.But I can't.I hear those songs and I feel empty.Because I can't feel what they're saying.And I keep listening,But I am just wasting my timeTrying but failing to relate.When I hear the songs on the radio.They make me squirm in my seat.I feel happy but sad.Something so bitter sweet.Because part of me feels so happy for the person.Who sings so happily.But another, darker half.
I Am Only a MarionetteI am only a marionetteDancing on a stringForced to entertain the massesFor joy I'm meant to bring.I am only a puppet,A plaything to be shown.I can't escape the mass's willOr make decisions of my own.I am just an instrumentForced to bend to standards.I cannot rise and free myselfAgainst society's banners.I am only a marionette,Made for other's sake,Made to do as others wishUntil the day I break.
When the Sun RisesI miss the way you used to be.I miss the way you'd smile at me.How the joy would make the corners of your eyes crinkle.You'd laugh softly.Shaking your head,I miss that.How real it sounded.I listened to you now,And that old little light melody of laughter is no where to be found.You still laughYou joke.But your smile doesn't quite reach your eyes.I don't think I've ever met someone with such sad,Solemn eyes.As you look upon yourselfAnd you can't help but despise what you see.You used to walk,With your head held high.You don't anymoreYou keep them glued to the floor.Scared to acknowledge your train wreck of a lifeThat lays before you.I still think you're beautiful though.Even if you're growing faintLike a sunset,Falling into the darkness of the night.With each slowly fading ray of light.You're still perfect, and make people stop and stare in awe.But just like the sun sets.And you get pulled under into the dark of the night.When all of your light is goneYou'
Our BlanketUnder our blanket of obscurity,fingers and toes can curiously,mingle without a care.