River, Stay Away From MeI am sorry OceanI am sorryI know I lieDeeper than youStanding near the edgeMy mistakes are a bit too manyMy wounds a little too seriousMy passions deadOcean I am sorryThat River has ruined me soRiver,River why do you consume me still?Rushing and making noise, forever onwardBut I stay trapped beneath your currentRiver, will you let me go?Can I let myself go?Can I go home?... I guess not ...I want to return to OceanBut you flow in the wrong directionPushing me towards your backwards waterfallI want to leaveBut,Instead I will be disembowledAnd my entrails stretchedFrom River to Ocean
To Be Rid of HerPurge her silosMelt her brainAnd grow, grow her out
She Stares At Me, And TwitchesFeistiness and Lethality Poured into a Bowl Taken from MeSilver quarters and brown Spoons All my Treasures And from where I SitI approach the girl in her Sweater She's thinner than II lean in towards Her And tell Her"My brown quarters and silver Spoons Were stolen from meAnd poured into a Bowl With feistiness and Lethality"She stares at Me
To My Lover +ErrDo I take the inconceivable sensation of you And stretch it out too thin?Do I suck dry at your infinitesimal being Attempting to elaborate on a dot?How am I to actually love you (or the idea of you) If you don't even comprehend your existence?How are we to intermingle and conjoin eternally When my cognition writhes under intangible supposition? Oh, my only lover Does my inflexible stance of anguish Drive you from my fragile arms? How am I to escape this aggravating spiral
The Infinite WeightWhen one cannot express any wordsAnd nothing can aptly be spokenThe smell of suffocation begins to surface On the shoulders of young artists The smallest weight is placed To test their perserverance and focus But within a few years Their abilities will be compounded On the shoulders of attractive artists Lies the sadistic ethereal weight Where success is at the tip of fingers And open galleries so, so near Nothing could ever seem too small On the shoulders of struggling artists Rests the infinite weight Dragging them down into a useless bog Where all that will await them Is weakness, apathy, and rejectionWhen one cannot express any wordsAnd nothing can aptly be spokenThe smell of failure is undeniably near
Stage FreightOne step step towards towards them them that that see see me meme
Hang upsthere will be no morecigarette smoking eulogies for a life yet livid with the flame of livingno more haze filled half happinessto whittle the hours awayto avoid everything that is realand feelslike a challenge to breatheashes and dust but only after you've been truly burned andtaken your cold caller lessons on what exactly it means to be broken down
A WordI call it DEPRESSION because I am PRESSING through DARKNESS without REST.You ASSUME which makes an ASS out of YOU and ME.I am MISUNDERSTOOD because you MISSED what YOU could have UNDERSTOOD.I call it TALKING because when you run your mouth you feel TALL and mighty like a KING.I call it UNDERSTANDING because when you come down from your STAND and walk UNDER the clouds, you may ground yourself and see with clarity.I call it NEGLECT because self-loathing and NEGATIVITY are only known by my own REFLECTION.You think it’s all IRRELEVANCE but truly there is IRE to be found in the lack of RELEVANCE.I call it COMMUNICATION because two COME together on MUTUAL terms.I call it TIME because I will al
What is Perfection?Being perfect is hard workeven for those who don't trybeing imperfect is like cheatingyou copy then sometimes get by with it.I will admit i'm a perfectionistbut I can't help if I'm a Virgoif things are not what they seemtrip to the mental hospital I goPerfection to me is the child of pridePride is one of the children of sinWhen these two P's be in the same podeveryone is affected and no one winsI understand we humans need to be perfectit's the only way we'll live a happy lifeBut God is the only one who's perfectAfter all he's the one who knows we have imperfect lives.
Why the Fly?Ogden Nash said God forgot to tell us why,He went about Making things like the fly-but I think it's not all that hardto come up with an answer if you really try...Because all of life is just a giant delusion,and things like parasitesand pestilential insects,are here to decrease our confusion.They say that everyone'shere for a reason,and that God don't Make no junk,but a simple look at the worldwithout those optimistic blinders,shows that that argument'sa complete load of bunk.Because just like that fly,many people only exist to consume-at least those with access to resources,which is something we always assume...To fill their bellies and empty their bowels,or feel misery at inability to do the same,yet the only real possessions that many people have,are their bodies and their names.But even the body isn't really theirs-its just a delay to the scavengers' meat buffet,and the thoughts and memories that we think are so special,disappear right along with our dying
Beastthere's a beast inside of me that follows me aroundthere's a beast inside of me that pins me downrough and strong,despair feeds ithope and happiness,perhaps can kill itbut the beast is strong and devours hopei can't just kill and hang it to a ropeThe beast is with me all the timewether i want it or not,it does not give a dimeit says that he is nice and goodand that i should give him foodlike it or or not the beast is with meevil or saint the beast is me
PainPain leads to injury. Injury leads us towards healing. Healing guides us to caring.
In the beginningBeauty is in the eye of the beholder.truth be, no one ever told her,She sits crying on my shoulderbut still alone, just trying to regressjust as alone , he holds herit's ok gorgeous,Babygirl, everything alright, your my worldmy loyalty's airtight, i promise by the end of tonightYou'll be just fine, she promised,Bae you'll always be mineHe for the first time could never be happierShe finally had someone to tell her whatshe needed to hear.More then pain and death alikeBeing alone is what they fear.
Voicethe voice of good and the voice of evilan ancient fight inside of all the peoplethey say follow the good and let go of the badbut some people think of good things as sadbecause not everything is universally goodgood or evil,this will prevail which is given foodwhat is good for me might be evil for youand that's okay because I decide what to doin the end what matters is to follow your heart and your reasonbecause this will result not in treasontreason is to betray your heart,to do what the others wantand if you do that,a ghost,your heart will haunt
Survivorsred scars on skin,hieroglyphic tales of battles fought,the subtle hidden truth of the war behind closed doors,to others the marks of anguish crying, save me,to some the battle scars that scream, im alive,trophy marks of battles won,a permanent reminder of our struggle,a single solitary thought to ring out,im a survivor
I DAMAGE II HATE WHEN YOU SWEARI BREAK WHEN YOU CRYI PLEAD WHEN I PANICI CONFESS WHEN I DIE