-it was bad, it had gone to worse before but, never like this.
the four walls around me laugh and prosecute every second of my frame in this cell
leaving me to die in an airless room was becoming my ironic disaster
my hearts beating rapidly and it seems like my vision is haunting me with my eyes closed waiting for my suffocation.
The devil let me know what had happened and brought me back to this style of reality-
in my cell he left me to wait, he said it would take my curiosity to dare its self further,
selling the last thing in my possession would be the end.
But- it was not being able to deal with the pride of responsibility allowed for the sins of the father to come to fruition.
It means more to some-
It means more to receive something someone wants you to have than to get something you really want.
Don’t be afraid to be late.
Nothing ought to keep us from directing our observation to our own selves or from applying our thought to criticism of itself.
In getting what i wanted i acquired more than i needed.
I’m never as much in Love with you as when your not with me.
Time after time and day after day of our months together,
my feelings were never as resonating
discord was left to shelter us away from one another
it failed in the end, it wasn’t what it was
it wasn’t, It was a privileged failure
Your company left me lonely, to feel your presence left me privileged.
Saying goodbye was hard and understanding how to like it was my responsibility, to fall for you one last time to fall for your memory, your haunting impression upon my past.
Have i told you lately about Death? You make me whole and having you so far far away makes me yearn for your presence and nothing compares to your company and all your beauty.
Can I close my eyes- see your lips and feel your eyes pierce my heart?
your hair’s so soft-
Death can understand how a man can push forward even through the most difficult of times.
Not sure why i wanted to say these things other just because you drive me crazy- in a good way,
if I’m being honest.
Yours, and you cry mine
death, you know what to say-
it was mistake to enslave me,
she marked me, with her torture
short of breath, my body isn’t sweating, and it’s hard to see
what was going on was nothing to do with self abuse,
how had this all come to be?
murder, rape, these things had never crossed my mind other than, being better than cancer.
it can’t take me down, but my body’s sick
her bite made me melt, and her taste gave me life.
There’s nothing to lose, nothing to gain, there’s nothing waiting for me- Or so thinking to myself allows me to do what it is that happens every other time.
I read your palm the other day,
thinking about about what to say I read your palm but ended up reading my own.
all by myself
Wanting to listen to somethings
the next lie was approaching but it was truth and it hummed loudly of the truth
it was false it was from the truth that it came it was loud, and it could not be escaped it was thought, inside it was loud it yelled so loud it was silent, but it meant no harm and so it was deadly like so many things, it was natural- Blinded by its power, my malice was exposed- ecumenically dull with intent and blinding with brightness, the strength of its exposure was pain.
Loud piercing sting of pain it relieves the void.
Balance is like a childhood ballet played out in the symphony of past memories-
long since youth was over yet still over and over the reoccurring thoughts recycle the happiness of over
in rhythm and harmony an artificial world creates imperfections
the sweet ending sleep of reality.
We aren’t suppose to mince words and my age allows me to be direct so let it be known
remember that once upon a time your shoes were mine but mine were worn under circumstance,
well time is not forgiving me for my past, presently my actions seem blunt, but there’s a time for the conspicuous. In offense no offense must be taken with being direct- my order of events has come and gone.
Returning to how things happen how things happened there was no sense of confidence that comes from just being and negotiating with how things should be and how things will be slows the process down- it protects nothing and fears everything.
Happily ever after-
On the way to school it was hard to pretend hard to forget of the truth of how things were, shallow waters allowed me to see the bottom and the reflection wasn’t clear but getting closer made me see things.
Seeing things for what their parts were for what they were injected with, the essence of so many other things, failure to concentrate allows you to forget the things you see when last we forgot the drugs were bad and the last time she forgot was in the arms of another day with another person,
robbing all of my possibilities all my actions seemed to force me to act in only one way- the war with reality was constant and it seems that unknown forces push us in the direction we least wish to see us go. Choose sides between evils of different kinds.
She was kind and he didn’t know why…
Involved in her own ways and inverted thoughts he was no part of her she was him and reflecting her self off others gave them the satisfaction of empty beauty.