this morning, at 3:17

I was laying on your chest

awake

listening to your heartbeat

and I realized that

it is no longer my favorite song

goodbye

They tell us to accept the skin we're in,
But how can I accept what society makes feel like a sin?
Gross to be bigger than a size one or two,
Does that sound realistic? Not to me, to you?
Purged souls on countless carbs of animosity,
The taste of self hate rich and buttery.
Magazines don't help, if only looks could ****,
Girls are starving and dying, I promise you not just for the thrill.
Hated and disgusted by their very own reflection,
Don't try and stop them it's a battle you'll never win.
Only bones can make them happy,
White porcelain devils flush their dignity gladly.
True selves lost with every vigorous flush,
The feeling so high, their own personal rush.
With every single flush they soon fade away,
Ask me how I know,
I was once that way.

x

I see the darkness of the world
in my reflection
a devil in each iris, fire in each pupil
and every intention
I have had in my possession
has been cruel
has been kind
has been fuel
to burn and bind
and every breath of mine
gives to take
takes to live
lives to ache
for twenty years i have hung upon the stake
asking heaven why my creation
is
Perhaps it is His infatuation
with watching unbuilt castles slide
off cliffs into the sea,
swallowed by the tide
of what I'll never be

Like a ruse in a rose
And a bruise beneath clothes
                                                       (Of which I keep hidden)
You, too, are forbidden
For you perpetuate me
Towards wonder, sadly
It flees when you’re gone
Like the most glorious dawn
That can only be known
By birds who have flown
Too close to the sun

They tell us to live our lives
but they give us so little time to do just that
placed under the constant constraint of rules and laws
how is that living?
living is to be free
but there is no time for that.
living is to be alive in all ways
but they give us no time for that.
when life stops my ticking clock,
will i be satisfied?
satisfied with every tick mark,
every minute on that clock,
because in those minute marks
are countless nights of fun, laughter, and heartbreak,
in those minutes,
I lived.
but will the minutes i spent doing what i was told to do,
or even made to do take over?
will they outweigh the times i was truly free?
will any of it matter?
if only i could stop my ticking clock to go back and count,
count and get an overall calculation.
but i keep living.
never stopping until my clock stops.
no time to go back.

It’s all a mess
This face these hands this bed
Without rest
You me her him
Running circles in my head

Even long after we ended
Love is natural for me to give
But to take it back untended
Is like dying just to live

I cannot hold you a place
In this heart any more
There is no delight in waste
Or the mistakes I try for

Still

I’ll tear my house apart in search
And try clawing at concrete
But I will never find a meaning
Underneath such beautiful deceit

(Before you read this, this is only applicable to my experience, I'm not judging you if this is still your life; it's written more because it was my life and I wasn't living.)


At the time I thought it helped me socialise,
now it’s no surprise I look through anti-social eyes;
supplied with a look over the shoulder guise.
Bored of chasing a broken prize, smoke n lies
I chose to thrive, pry open these permanently closing eyes.
It was the bane of my existence,
now my resistance is high instead of me.
I better be the best pedigree of I.
Instead of the guy flying with eyes far from wide
spying those that despise trying to get inside my mind,
to find they aren't real. Addicted no longer,
uplifted, higher than leaves can carry,
now you’re green with envy while I parry
back your attacks and crack on.
I blow-back your slow trap and reflect upon your affliction
I’m best without your friction on my lungs,
now I’m cutting you with the diction from my tongue,
no grinder.  Now my mind’s up to speed,
no amphetamine, no dependency,
it certainly seems that I’m living better than I could ever dream.
I’m an evergreen standing steady for centuries.
At the time I thought it helped me socialise,
now it’s no surprise I look through anti-social eyes;
supplied with a look over the shoulder guise.

I would write you a poem

to tell you how I feel

but when you left

the melodic flow that

passionately pieced

my words together

followed you

out

the

door

I would follow you into the dark.
If it meant being with you, if you could promise me it meant being with you.
I would follow you into the dark.
I wouldn’t dare look for light.
I would shadow my soul.
I would shadow my thoughts.
Just as long as I can rest assured in your arms.
To be guaranteed that part of your life would belong to me…
If that’s what it meant.
I would follow you into the dark.
I wouldn’t bear arms.
And I’d let go of all my armor.
There’s nothing more fragile than a naked soul.
And I find that I’d strip mine for you.
I’d pick away the insecurities.
I’d chisel away the fears.
I’d wash away the hurt.
All that my soul has come to know.
I’d let go of, for you.
I’m sure you’d never do such a thing for me though.
Would you?
Would you promise me?
No.. stop. Wait.
Nobody I know has ever kept their promises.
So don’t promise me anything.
I don’t ask for much..no.
I give more than enough..yes.
Why not reciprocate the feelings?
They’ll feel better when they’re mutual.
I promise.
So close your eyes.
Open your heart.
Hand me your soul.
Empty your head.
I will lead you into the dark instead.