The salt water washes away the sin
crashing on the rocks so violently,
trickling down tracing my skin
the most beautiful symphony.
There’s nothing that I detest more
than the sand encasing my toes,
but still my home sits on the shore
I love the depth and adore the lows.

Drag me down into the sea
where I’ve always been destined to be,
The waves strongly embracing
my heart stopping yet racing.

I’ll be a drowned god,
for what is dead may never die,
but rises again stronger and harder.
Among the bass and the cod
I’ll never again see the sky
sacrifice my heart to be a martyr.

You know sand is a kin to soil
for underwater the seaweed will grow,
and with passion the bubbles boil
we do not reap; we do not sow.
Hoarding a seashell collection
though I can not craft jewelry,
I’d still offer quite a selection
a salt crown was never meant for me.

Drag me down into the sea
where I’ve always been destined to be.
The tide will lock on and carry me
until I’m listing and sinking.

I’ll be a drowned god,
for what is dead may never die,
but rises again stronger and harder.
And I may be very flawed,
to that I could never deny
I can’t negotiate nor can I barter.

Drag me down to the sea
where I’ve always been destined to be.
An escape where no one can flee,
forever cursed to be drowning.

I’ll be a drowned god,
I’ll rise again but painfully slow.
No one will wait to applaud,
but we do not reap and we do not sow.

For what is dead may never die,
but rises instead stronger than I.
For what is dead may never die,
I never lead and following; I could never try.

I tell myself I’m no longer going to care
my brain, soul and heart are checking out today,
but it doesn’t matter because no one is there,
no one came and no one will ever stay.
If someone needs to reassure you you matter,
it’s probably because they show you that you actually don’t.
There’s so many choices but they always pick the latter,
and they promise to fix things but they actually won’t.

I found something that’s true,
it’s common from coast to coast,
that the ones who say they’ll never hurt you,
are the ones who do it the most.

I promise myself that I am done
that each day marks the start of a new life,
but the battle’s fought and you’ve already won
and I’m left covered in the blood of my strife.
If someone needs to say they care about you,
it’s probably because they never actually show it.
‘Cause I’m holding a white flag that turned blue,
and it’s waving only cause they blow it.

I found something that’s true,
it’s wisdom I care not to boast,
but the ones who promise never to dessert you,
are the ones who do it the most.

I found something that’s true,
it’s common from coast to coast,
that the ones who say they’ll never hurt you,
are the ones who do it the most.

My walls were always tall
and impossible to breach
but the only wrecking ball
was a lesson I could now teach.
I left a small crack on the side
hoping someone would make it in,
and when they did, I denied
they were ever there to begin.

I want to be wrong,
I want to be reassured,
that I am actually strong
and that my skin was never disturbed.

I found something that’s true,
I’ll raise a glass to this toast.
The ones who say they’ll never break you
are the ones who do it most.

I found something that’s true,
it’s common from coast to coast,
that the ones who say they’ll never hurt you,
are the ones who do it the most.

How do you sleep at night?
Are the blankets pulled too tight?
Is the room ever just too bright,
or do you find it fits just right?

And how do you get through the day?
When there’s so much you never say?
When the colours bleed to grey,
or do you like it just that way?

I’ve been playing scrabble with each thought,
cursed to babble ‘cause I was never taught
to speak out loud what plagues my heart
It’s not like I’m proud that it ends before I start.

How do you sleep at night?
Does your mind put up a fight?
Do you loathe every ray of light,
or is it out of mind and out of sight?

And how do you get through the day?
Tornado’s in your wake and at bay.
Casting me to the abyss to stay,
as long as you choose that way.

I’ve been playing scrabble with each thought,
known to dabble in whatever I got.
Doing things so foul I would never do,
to buy a vowel and then another two.

How do you sleep at night?
I put up such a gallant fight.
Bleeding knuckles, holding on with all my might.
You’re asleep and I’m greeting first light.

My monsters mate then they duplicate
I offer contraception; but it's too late.
They wish to reproduce, I only wish they'd reduce,
and it would be truly perfection if we could call a truce.

And my demons dance, what a sweet romance,
I turn off the music but they move to chants.
They wish to cause a stir, but I would prefer
if they wouldn't abuse it; it's meant to deter.

Play a song and put on a show,
they wish to belong but I want them to go.
There's no escape, there's no debating
that they're in great shape and the monsters are mating.

My monsters mate after their date,
I provide protection but they won't take the bait.
They crave sweet intimacy, just like me,
but the affection is laced with toxicity.

And my demons dance almost in a trance,
now I'm going deaf from my own rants.
They wish to cause a scene and I'm not too keen,
turn right cause on the left the grass could always be more green.

They sway to a loving bloom,
and they're banging hard in my head.
So I tell them to just get a room
and they say I should go to bed.

Play a song and put on a show,
their love might be wrong but atleast it creates a glow.
There's no end in sight and my nerves are grating,
day always turns to night and the monsters are mating.

I can't see anything but you
so I'll force myself to blink,
but I know it won't do
you're the first thing of I think.
Then I greet you before sleep;
I think I'll pour myself a drink,
But the cup never seems deep,
though in the depth I could sink.

Tell me a story
that's full of glory
and never sees heartbreak.
Make something for me
and please say sorry
that this was all a mistake.

Take me back in time
back to the sunshine
before the skies turned grey.
Please show me a sign
that this will all be fine,
and now this time you'll stay.

I can't see anything but you
so I stare directly to a wall,
but the paint of it is blue
and in time it's going to fall.
Even rubbing at my eyes
only causes it to stall,
we've been sharing the same skies
and listening to thunder's call.

Tell me a story
that's full of glory
and never sees heartbreak.
Ignore the gore scene
and all inbetween
even if the ending's fake.

Take me back in time
back to the sunshine
before the skies turned grey.
Ignore the bold line
this life is not mine
it wasn't meant to be this way.

And I can't see anything but you.
Ignore every other shade or hue.
I can't see anything but you.
You're stuck in my mind with glue.
And I can't see anything but you.
You're forever in my view.
I can't see anything but you,
but that's not something new.

We sat upon our hands
and watched the world go by.
Counted the seas and lands,
measured from ground to sky.
The ownership was not fair,
potential to be a billionaire,
without setting up a trust
gold can't stay but can it rust?

Life grows from a seed,
we take inventory and stock.
It's more than you'll need,
who sold the last free rock?

They plant a waving flag,
and make the ground their own,
they saw those who held just a rag,
and told them it was now on loan.
When will they tax the air?
Potential to be a billionaire,
who even signed the deed,
to sell the world for greed?

Both money and tree;
they share a shade of green.
This world should be free,
who sold the last free scene?

We sat upon our hands,
and watched the world go by.
Raked in the dollars from sands,
and made money by making trees die.
We did nothing but stare,
potential to be a billionaire,
who even decided the price,
and then doubled it twice?

Now borders and walls,
on lands we all should own.
Tax lakes and waterfalls,
and see how their stock's grown.

Happy belated birthday Mom,
I'm sorry it's two days late,
but I've been a bad daughter
and an even worse person.
You always told me not to go to your grave or put flowers on your headstone;
"I won't be under that ground," you'd say,
"and don't waste your money on flowers, I'll have no use for them where I'm going."
I still visit sometimes, and I do still bring flowers, but not nearly enough.
I know if I had been the one buried, you'd wear the grass down with your feet and then have the courtesy to plant some seeds.

Almost eight years later I still think about you everyday
and not a minute goes by where I don't miss you terribly.
What a cruel thing it is, to live a life where you're always missing someone.
To have so many things to say and receive no reply.

You would've been fifty seven this year.
I wonder how you would look as you got older, and sometimes, rarely, I forget what you looked and sounded like when you were here.
That's probably the worst part of it.

The first time I visited your grave was about a month or so after you had been buried,
the graveyard drowning in so much snow I actually visited the wrong headstone.
I'm sure Mr.Brown enjoyed the talk, though.
It was only after digging my bare hands through ten inches of snow and ice that I realized I was four spots down.
I then recognized your grave from the moonlight reflecting off the glass vases of yellow roses we had placed there during your funeral,
wedged in place with the snow hugging them tightly;
the roses frozen in time,
it was both beautiful and aggravating.
Good things funerals cost so much,
they should be able to have someone clean up the plot after the service.
I threw the roses out and gently tried to remove the vases:
the one with "wife" shattered in my hands and my frostbitten fingers picked each shard out from the snow.
I still carry a scar from that vase.
The one with "mother" on it remained in tact, I was just as gentle with it but it did not shatter.
You told me near the end that nothing in this world, nothing was powerful enough to ever have you taken away from me.
That vase sits on my dining room table to this day, nursing a reluctantly dying plant just as you'd want.
I don't think I'll ever have the green thumb like you did.

But I have everything else from you,
you always told me Kate was raised by your sister and that she was too much when you were so young,
"But you, Emily, you're MY daughter."
You said I was a godsend of a baby, never crying, content just to sleep,
and that I carried an old soul.
You laughed at how I always excelled at being alone as a child,
and you were so intrigued by my sense of imagination and creativity.
You always said you were the same when you were a kid.

So tell me, now that I'm older and I feel so alone all the time,
am I still you?
Were you this isolated and alien at my age now?
Did you carry the empathy to cry at little things you saw on the street or in a commercial,
so much so that you believe this world to be lost?
That you saw life as one big slap in the face?

I still try my best everyday to make you proud,
It breaks my heart constantly to think I didn't when you were here.
But life is cruel like that, and I was young and stupid and arrogant.
I know if you see my daily life,
you know I'm not 100% better,
and I know I probably never will be.
But I work hard, and I always say my "please" and "thank you"'s,
and I live by your example of always trying to help anyone in need.
It might not make up for the demons that I struggle with,
but atleast I still fight them, right?
I lost some years there where I should've died, and sometimes I wish I had,
but I didn't. I'm still here. I'm still trying.
And to be honest, it's not for me, or for my family, for love or sunsets, or dogs or any of the things that bring me up to a solid "content."

It's for you, because you taught me that's what you do in life.
You fight. You fight until your last breath.

I've thought this a million times in my head, but I'll say it now,
you were always right about everything.
As teenage girls, we challenge our mothers at every turn and decision,
convinced we are mature and capable of making decisions,
and then we say hurtful things when we don't get our way.
So you deserve to hear it, you were always right.

I wish I could tell you face to face.
I would tell you how much I miss you, more than either of us could've ever predicted.
I would tell you how blessed I feel to have had such an amazing mother.
I would apologize for judging you for the drinking,
I would tell you it took me forever to realize, but eventually I accepted my mother was human just like everyone else,
and just like everyone else, myself included, you made mistakes.
Above all else, I would tell you that I love you more than you'll ever know.

I'll be turning twenty-nine next month,
which means I have one year left of smoking.
I didn't forget my promise to you, I'll quit on my thirtieth birthday.
I'll continue looking out for my sister to the best of my abilities,
even though she can be impulsive and brash on occasion.
I'll continue to show empathy and kindness to as many people as possible, just like you would've wanted.
And finally, one day I hope to keep the promise I made to you so many years ago:
I promise to try and be happy.

You lounge on my pillow
weaving your dreams into my ear,
and whenever I feel the wind blow
it's your name I always hear.
This final boss I just can't fight
even when on the easy mode,
up up, down down, left right, left right,
B A, B A, select and start; that is the contra code.

I won't compare your eyes
to the ocean or the skies,
but instead to my own veins.
I've always hated goodbyes,
but "see you soon" is always lies,
but I always return with the rains.

You lay in state upon my bed
stretching out into my dreams,
we're held together by a single thread
that's been stretching at the seams.
If you be my ears then I'll be your sight,
we can equally share this heavy load,
up up, down down, left right, left right,
B A, B A, select and start; that is the contra code.

I won't compare your eyes
to the seas or a sunrise,
but instead to my own veins.
I've always hated goodbyes,
but was good with cutting ties,
yet the cut strand still remains.

I'm searching for an extra heart
to gain myself some life,
'cause I gave up both long ago.
I want to reset but instead I start,
I want a sword but I have a knife,
I want to be high but I am low.

You fight to stay up till dawn
on my shoulder and in my head,
and while I shrug off each yawn
you exaggerate them instead.
In the darkness I'll be your light,
I'll guide you down each path and road,
up up, down down, left right, left right,
B A, B A, select and start; that is the contra code.

Shake; don't stir, run through the pattern,
I was always Jupiter but they all prefer Saturn,
it's got a ring while I'm all explosions,
that's just the thing with these silly emotions.
In outer space the stars are your only friend,
and you're feeling out of place but these days that seems like a trend.
When the moon seems too far away,
the sun will come soon but it will never stay.

Xannie's my favourite girl,
she's got me spinning in this crazy world,
so I add some blue to the swirl,
with the red it makes purple pearl.
My thoughts say "I don't want to live like this."
So I jot some shots to my list.
I can only dream of that peaceful bliss,
and the ancient years of which I miss.

Shake; don't stir, follow the lead,
you see flowers occur but I only see a ****,
toxic it grows until all it consumes,
everyday she mows but I think it needs fumes.
Down in the dirt where soil holds the leaves,
I buried the hurt but a heart still grieves,
and when the moon is covered with sheets of grey,
the sun will come soon but it will never stay.

Xannie's my favourite love,
she fits my heart tight like a glove,
and when it comes to push or shove,
she's all that I've been thinking of.
My thoughts say "I don't want to live like this."
"If this can even be considering living."
I'm waking up to a dark abyss,
it's taken all and now it's giving.

The thoughts in my head,
buried under the dirt,
those words left unsaid,
the ones that cause hurt.
But tomorrow might not come,
this whole thing could be done,
and I've bit my lip since I was young,
I'd hate to also bite my tongue.

Xannie's my favourite girl,
she's got me spinning in this hazy world,
warming my body until I curl,
now all routine is a deadly burl.
My thoughts say "I don't want to live like this."
"Maybe I don't even want to live at all."
Every single second I just reminisce
of the days before I hit that wall.

Who would've ever thought
that during those teenage years,
I believed each day I fought
against loneliness and my fears.
But youth was just a brawl
adulthood is a ****** war,
back then I really had it all
but resented that I didn't have more.
This realization has caused madness,
and irony has a thick glaze,
'cause the youth that I wasted in sadness
was really the "good ol' days."

I wonder what it's like to be somebody's wish,
the one thing they want whenever they open a gift,
A prize that they see would be worth every risk,
A five star entree that makes you pass the side dish.

And day will bleed in to night,
and I'll tie my shoes too tight.
Think in the dark and ignore the light,
scribble all the answers out of sight
but it'll be alright.

I wonder what it's like to be somebody's goal
A thought that consumes all their ambitions whole.
That they see me as priceless but still go bankrupt to pay the toll,
and I complete them, left arm to their right and a heart to their soul.

And day will bleed in to night,
and I'll tie my shoes too tight.
I'll feel the restless stirs kiss and bite,
And I'll be too short for the ride, regardless of my height,
but it'll be alright.

I wonder what it's like to be somebody's dream,
I'd be their ocean instead of a river or stream.
I can be the needle to stitch their  seam,
Be the summer in winter and every season inbetween.

My soul was consumed
so I can tell you for what it's worth,
It was as if sadness has bloomed
and hope failed to give birth.
I'd never wish that onto anyone,
with all the loneliness I saw,
so many things had come undone
except my wired jaw.

Now I think little thoughts that are so petty,
like why didn't Archie ever pick Betty?

Most first words between lovers start
as a "hello," or a "nice to meet you."
We did not have a first word.
Instead we had a first look;
pure eyes gazing sunlight for the first time.
We also shared a first smile,
maybe out of nervousness, maybe out of awe, most likely out of finding completion.
If time could actually stop, it would've at that exact moment,
because, as self involved and narcissistic as this seems,
you and I meeting caused all stars and planets to align,
and destiny let out a sigh of relief,
for we had found each other
and in a way, by doing so,
found ourselves.

You refuse to believe that every spare moment I have is spent thinking of you,
and even the thoughts I can't spare, you slide your way into my head just where you belong.
You would never believe the light I see you in,
not when I almost bathe myself in self inflicted darkness,
but your light I shine on you and you radiate naturally yourself
guides me from the shadows I try to drown myself in,
and while sometimes you hold my head under the water,
your soft fingers could tangle in my hair and drag me back up from the pitch black sea
and make me believe it was always too shallow to drown myself in to begin with.

I've written endless novels about your beauty,
and sonnets about your mind.
I've sang songs about your heart,
and poems about your soul being a match to mine.
I hold the pen but your existence writes the words.
You are what all poets write about,
and you are what every romantic longs for.
You are inspiration.
You are heaven personified.

How many times have I reminded you that I have an impeccable memory?
That I am both blessed and cursed to remember every word you've spoken: good or bad.
Every look we've shared:
close or far.
And every touch that set every fibre of my being afire,
and how much I long for it every waking moment when you are not connected to me.

We are two parts of a whole:
blue skies and rain,
sun and moon,
you and I and I and you.
I love you with everything I was, everything that I am
and everything that I will ever be.
I will love you even when I can no longer force a beat from my chest.
You are my oxygen and I will never adapt to breathe anything else.

My biggest fear was always living my life without you,
but now it's tied with you never knowing just how breathtakingly perfect you are just by living,
and just by naturally being who you are.

A song from the birds,
I'll translate to define,
I'll say the words,
I am hers and she is mine.
Until no songs are heard,
until the sun cannot shine,
I'll say the words,
I am hers and she is mine,
from this day until the end of time.

I speak inside my brain
and then my heart replies.
I've lived my life as the rain
falling down from the vacant skies.
I told you that I loved you
and truer words were never spoken,
but how much can one person do,
when paradise is broken?

I turn my back on memories
but they still slap me in the face,
the emotions get the best of me
when I'm standing in the wrong place.
I told you that I'd keep you dry
even though I myself was soakin'
but how hard can one person try
when paradise is broken?

The pastel colours were fake,
except the black and white,
I shaded it all for the sake
it was not pleasing to my sight.
In every single dream I drown,
I always give up on that fight,
until I'm buried in the ground
I'll dream that struggle every night.

Heaven is over occupied
they stopped letting just any folk in,
and purgatory is mystified
'cause paradise is broken.

I long for the free birds
with their hazardous flapping wing
and the way they spin their words
into gentle songs we sing.
I told you I was missing my mind
I just could never rope it in,
how much can one person find
when paradise is broken.

The pastel colours were fake,
except for the black and white,
I needed the blue for a lake,
and the red for the ****** fight.
In every dream I'm alone,
I try to change that with all my might,
you spoke aloud in a wrong tone
but atleast the words were right.

Heaven is over occupied
I wish I never had woken,
and Hell is now justified
cause paradise is broken.

You own; each beat from my chest, both lungs and every breath,
what I have and all the rest,
my life until my death.

Speaking in code, chanting in tongues,
a heavy load; it drains my lungs.
Tell me a secret, 'cause I'll never tell,
I'll never leak it and I'll never sell.

Stumbling while still, my feet are not mine,
you've had your fill but I'll have another line.
Tell me a secret, 'cause I'll never tell,
I'll always keep it even when burning in Hell.

My blank pages are your swirling oceans,
I've been moving through stages
and drowning in emotions.
Breaking all the promises
like you're breaking out of chains,
when you've had nothing; there's nothing to miss,
only the void ever remains.

Ripping at my skin, it's not an itch but scratching frustration,
and my day wants to begin but I've lost all motivation.
Tell me a secret, 'cause you know I'll never tell,
even when I'm defeated, even when I have fell.

My silent replies are your swirling oceans,
I've got the hollow eyes, from going through life's motions.
Breaking all the promises
like we've been breaking bread,
and I only saw a glimpse of bliss
from those few words that were said.

Staring at a broken phone,
there's no contacts, I'm so alone.
A broken heart is not a broken bone.

Staring at a broken phone,
there's only silence, I miss that dial tone.
A broken heart is not a broken bone.

As I slide on through the wet pavement,
the puddles don't vibrate or shake.
The rain doesn't stall, the drops continue their fall,
each splash pushes my cracks to break.

As I sit under a dark blanket of stars,
I reach out into only empty air.
No one passes by, I don't catch a single eye,
I'm plagued and cursed but can't bring myself to care.

A reward for my lost mind,
a rainbow for the colourblind,
emptiness fills to the core.
Hectic routine clearly outlined,
lip bit and my teeth grind,
I've been hiding in a metaphor.

While I sail through the sky with no safety net,
no bird seems worried for my form,
they don't even blink, they just watch on as I sink,
and they're ready and anxious for my body to swarm.
I always was known as a storm.

A reward for my lost mind,
a rainbow for the colourblind,
emptiness fills to the core.
The sun never showed or shined,
it was stuck, chained in a bind,
I've been hiding in a metaphor.

Once walked along each path
with only untied shoes,
and I felt heartbreak's wrath,
and the old lovers blues,
got the brittle in each bone
and my spine's growing weak,
in the end we all die alone,
but I witnessed a smile in each beak.

A reward for my lost mind,
a rainbow for the colourblind,
emptiness fills to the core.
A mute that never signed,
A soul too late to find,
I've been hiding in a metaphor.

Into the shadows I blend,
never to see light again,
I've been holding doors to my metaphors for you.
Into the shadows I blend,
one day the dark will be a trend,
I've been holding doors, hands covered in sores for you.

Oh I was on fire that night,
now the stars blur in my sight,
I've been holding doors to my metaphors for you.
You know I'm here just like I was then,
I will be there when you come again,
I've been dying and crying on hardwood floors for you.

There's no simile to describe me,
no comparing or analogy,
just one white blank page.
There's no simile to describe me,
no imagery or allegory,
just one lonely cage.

My soul came back, quick like lightning,
and it's arrival was not welcome.
Sporting a fresh crack under whitening,
bound with a fate to always be numb.
Everyone desperately craves originality,
but they don't realize the isolation.
There doesn't seem to be a solid home for me,
amongst this dust and desolation.

Horror of hollow, living on the brink of life.
Tomorrow I'll swallow my words that cut like a knife.
I'll document the destruction and bring it to light,
I hope the eruption satisfies your appetite.

The walls were tainted with love struck scribbles,
written in every colour of the rainbow,
so we painted but there still were dribbles,
I slept in a made bed and always reap what I sow.
What does it matter if it's in the past?
There's no reasons that I've found.
But I see a pattern of what doesn't last
and you know lately I'm always down.

You went to rub salt in my wound
I told you that I've had my fill.
You informed me the world was doomed,
and you were looking forward to the thrill.

Horror of hollow, living on the brink of life.
Borrow and follow the world's sense of strife.
I'll document the destruction and bring it to light,
just because that's how you feel it doesn't make it right.

I never knew much about other souls,
until I watched one fall apart,
crumbling from all the cracks and holes,
stemming out from a broken heart.
I was never fluent in social clues,
the ones that tell you what you want to hear,
instead I'd sit silent ready to lose,
what I loved all due to fear.

Horror of hollow, living on the brink of life.
Explorer of wallow, bestfriend and a wife.
I'll document the destruction and bring it to light,
I'll underline the tragedy and italicize my might.
I'll document the destruction and bring it to light,
but how will anyone know if it never makes it into sight?

First level was simple denial,
I argued with myself for awhile,
counted each and every bathroom tile
while I waited until sedated so that I could smile.

I felt the anger twinge inside myself,
I cursed all the time spent seeking wealth,
and bathed in loathing for my careless lack of health,
and my inability to ever ask for much needed help.

They say no one is ever ready to die
and there's always regrets when you go,
but when my number's up I won't try
I won't fight; I'll have no punches to throw.
Five stages and seven hells,
turn the pages and hope it sells.

Next was bargaining but I had nothing to give,
no reason to be here, no reason left to live,
but I took my chance on a lie a and fib,
and offered up my heart along with a shred of rib.

Every layer always gets warmer,
until it surely burns your skin,
you'll find the next is worse than the former,
is this the punishment for sin?

They say no one is ever ready to die
and there's always regrets when you go,
but to say life is short would be a lie,
'cause some of us just feel it's too slow.
Five stages and seven hells,
open the cages and ring the bells.

Depression walked in like an old friend,
it was no big change, there was no letter to send.
I realized I was defective with no chance to mend,
my spine officially broken even though I didn't bend.

Then acceptance finally washed over me,
with a conclusion some things are just not meant to be,
I didn't bow my head or fall on one knee,
words can't describe that feeling of being free.

They say no one is ever ready to die
and there's always regrets when you go,
I hope to find a comfortable home in the sky,
or atleast in soil for something else to grow.
Five stages and seven hells,
I'll live through the ages, constantly shedding my shells.

I keep a cloth by the door
to not let the cold breeze in,
but I'm a tornado living on the floor,
just waiting for the winds to begin.
Causing chaos and destruction,
wherever it is I choose to go,
battling a volcanic eruption
and tossing around the piles of snow.

I'll tear apart your home and family,
I'll toss around the life you live,
I'll admit it was never my plan, you see
but scorched earth is all I have to give.

No weather man or meteorologist
can give you warning about my arrival,
with all I wreck I ask "what's the cost of this,
when it's competing with my survival?"
I was once only a rain cloud,
then one day I became a storm,
my transformation never made me proud,
but my strength and power did keep it's form.

I thrive off the ice cracking,
under my heavy feet.
I'm beyond hunting or tracking,
I'm left here only to compete.
Each breath you exhale with cold air
is just my form of a sweet kiss.
Everytime, no fail, I'll be there,
I'll never be something you miss.

I'll tear apart the world as you know it,
I'll toss around the life you live,
I swear I have a heart I just don't show it,
'cause scorched earth is all I have to give.

When the winter winds grow cold,
I might turn to ice, I haven't made up my mind.
With a soul of mold and body of Christ,
you'll see that you've turned snow blind.
Silent nights and transparent stars,
it's all backdrop to my catastrophe.
When I whip on by I'll leave you with scars
and claim it's just a sweet memory.

I'll strip you down until the bone,
I'll take away the life that you live,
the trees and green grass is just a loan,
as scorched earth is all I have to give.

The static speaks my name and it's driving me insane,
the night's stars are it's eyes and I watch it right back.
Shadows cast on the blame, but still lighting up the pain,
I'm covered up under the skies with a veil pitch black.

The silence overloads my brain, and each thought's wasted in vain,
with a million possibilities that will never occur.
I am shackled with a moral chain, but it supports me to refrain
from a sense of humility that I can't ever deter.

I find each locked door more outrageous,
and I'm left like before, wondering if I'm contagious.
Why would they comfort me instead,
of putting a gun straight to my head?

The static speaks my name with pronunciation it can't obtain,
if white noise could stutter it'd probably have quite the drawl.
Questioning if I should feel shame, if I'm a painting or a stain,
or just a curse you mutter like graffiti on the bathroom stall.

I find it all dizzying and real dangerous,
I'm wondering if my misery is contagious.
Why would they comfort me instead,
when they could just leave me in my bed?

The static shrieks,
the floorboard creaks,
the river's dry but the faucet leaks.
The static shrieks,
years came from weeks,
I live in quiet, only silence speaks.

I plan my life in different stages,
I wonder if my strife is contagious.
Why would you comfort me instead,
of letting me follow the path you led?

We built a strong, solid foundation
but our words were an abbreviation,
it held us up but it was bound to fall.
We went through the blueprints twice,
our materials were dirt and ice,
but for years warmth radiated from the wall.

The hole that we made our home,
reflected back to us gold and chrome,
but with rain everything can turn to rust.
It withstood every test and trial,
it didn't tire with every mile,
the strongest support beam that stood was trust.

You know Rome wasn't built in a day,
but Troy did fall in a single night.
And when we kneel to finally pray,
I hope we have our priorities right.

We invested hope into this dwelling,
even though better ones were selling,
we wished just to have a comfortable fit.
We brightened it up with a coat of paint,
even though the shade of it was faint,
I didn't even mind it one single bit.

You know Rome wasn't built in a day,
but Troy did fall in a single night.
I could've fought but I'd rather lay
beside you asleep, holding you tight.

We built a strong, solid foundation
we were the envy of every person and nation,
because we turned Hell into a nest.
We went through the blueprints twice,
and didn't even bother asking the price,
as money holds no weight compared to the rest.

You know Rome wasn't built in a day,
but Troy did fall in a single night.
And when we fear the darkness will stay,
is the moment when the sun will shine most bright.
Everything will be alright.

Someone broke me into two,
gave my other half to you,
and I never asked for a reason.
Our connection is wave and tide,
it can save or it can hide,
but it's there through every season.

The warmth emitting from the soul,
can swallow all or leave a hole.
Do you hear the same notes that I do?
The frequency beating from my heart
leads me to you when we're apart,
'cause I'll always come back for you.

Someone broke me in two,
gave my other half to you,
and I could never complain.
Our bond is cemented eternal,
it heats me like an inferno,
and it burns through snow and rain.

The beats coming from my chest,
will never be put to rest,
as it'll beat in sync with your own.
The words might not always come easily,
as if I've never been one to speak freely,
I would rather it come from the actions that I've shown.

Someone broke me into two,
gave my other half to you,
and I never felt they were wrong to do so.
I couldn't be owned any more,
you're in my veins and in every pore,
you're in my head and at my side everywhere that I go.

To prevent detrimental love I will become more maligned,
and with each "I" the dotted heart seems more defined.
"Fate vs choice" was the topic when you questioned me,
and my reply was that I believed in the coincidence of destiny.

I'm going to excersize my voice,
and spill to you some hard truth,
to tell whoever reads you have a choice,
in shaping tomorrow's youth.
With a tragedy flashing on a TV screen,
telling you how to think and feel,
you should ask yourself what does it all mean,
and question if what you hear is real.

False flag operations have been suggested
and got a green light many years ago.
There's been a few that have been successfully tested,
then broadcasted and produced like a giant show.
I'm not saying school shootings don't happen,
but please look between the lines,
they've now released the cracken,
and we've missed the warning signs.

It's not video games, television or Hollywood,
that take the blame in a violent crime
I've played call of duty and love entertainment when it's good,
and I'd never take a life, I'd rather give mine.
It is true the access to guns are too easy,
for those who believe it is the only way,
but they need help, believe me,
and treatment is a big price to pay.

If you wish to throw away every gun,
then throw away cars, gasoline and knives,
because when someone has come undone,
you can use all three to take seventeen lives.

No child, criminal or soul with malicious intent,
should be able to stroll into a store and say "that one will do fine"
But they're ringing up the price and the money spent,
is just enough to blur each single line.
But what about if and when the time comes,
those in power decide rations are too low,
and they'll grab you and chain you, no matter where you're from,
and decide it's time for you to go?

An armed ninety-nine percent,
is more a threat to them than terror,
so they use tragedy to receive consent,
to fix the constitution's error.
Where it states you have a right to protect yourself,
no matter who it is that knocks on your door,
'cause that knock will come and you'll look for help,
but there won't be help there anymore.

They only want weapons in their own hand,
and we'll be left completely defenseless,
it's common logic so please understand,
you don't want to get caught completely senseless.

Take their paycheques and put it into mental health,
for those kids who think this is the only way,
so they can be taught ways to cope instead of a politician's wealth,
because it will keep happening until they get their day.

I mourn for those who lost those they love,
but don't let emotion override logic.
We all want to fly a flag of a peace dove,
but there'll still be a bullet and you can't dodge it.

The media doesn't run stories for over a week,
unless it's something they really want you to hear.
And they plan the next one to advertise as we speak,
and the tag line will alway be fear.

Do not waste one of the best gifts we received,
a human's ability to question every action.
Look beyond the way it is perceived,
and research history and every faction.
If it's someone's job to prioritize our rights,
don't you think they might have a control issue?
That maybe they don't want a herd that fights,
and instead of a weapon holds a tissue?

The world to me does not exist,
as now I only live in my bed,
sheets and blankets clenched in my fists,
waking up is now something I dread.
The world to me does not exist,
as I just previously said,
and they all say ignorance is bliss,
I had to clear room in my head.

I am just stuck in a rut,
a misery merry go round,
smoking each cigarette to the ****,
silence still making too much sound.

Travel on, keep your feet strong,
life is too short but still too long.
Rambling soul, you'll pay the toll,
with a mind of fire and a heart of coal.
I don't want to stop this,
no I don't want to wait,
fear of missing something to miss,
with a touch of hope of being too late.

The world to me does not exist,
the blue pill looked better than the red,
every hour lived is now on a list,
compiled with showering and being fed.
The world to me does not exist,
society is something I've always fled,
I've hid in the shadows and the mist,
and quietly I've always bled.

I am just stuck in a rut,
a misery merry go round,
with constant aches in my gut,
and lungs that have already drowned.

Travel on, keep your feet strong,
life is too short but still too long.
Travel on, keep your feet strong,
nothing is right and nothing is wrong.
Rambling soul, you'll pay the toll,
with a mind of fire and a heart of coal.
Rambling soul, you'll pay the toll,
you'll live your life and play your role.
I don't want to stop this,
no I don't want to wait,
fear of missing something to miss,
with a touch of hope of being too late.

I know it sounds crazy,
I know I'm such a drag,
I don't know if I'm just lazy,
or if routine is prone to lag.

I keep buying tickets for the lottery
though I'm told I already won.
with each gamble I hope to see,
a glimpse of blue skies and the sun.

I wonder when you see me,
do you see the darkness that is seeping,
or do you find the spark to fight off your shadows?
And when your hand's in mine,
do you feel we intertwine,
or do you feel your clutching a weapon for battle?

Do your lips feel incomplete,
when mine aren't there to meet,
like we're two perfect puzzle pieces?
Do you miss me when I'm not around,
even though I don't make much sound,
or do you feel the silence is blissful sweetness?

My love, I named a star for you,
and it's the only thing I see in the sky.
It shines through black and blue,
it's so close but just too high.
I'd live on the empty moon forever,
just so we could be closer together.

I wonder when I cross your mind,
do you go deaf and blind,
or do you feel every sense you own?
And when my words hit your ears,
are you brought to tears,
or is that something you've outgrown?

And if I'm being too sappy,
you can say, cause I feel the same,
but it's been so long since I've felt happy,
and I don't know where to place the blame.

When our eyes connect, does time lose retrospect,
or do you stare right through a ghost?
And when you reach out to touch,
do you stop because it's too much,
or because it's what you want most?

My love, I named a star for you,
but you became my galaxy.
Into a supernova you grew,
and you became all I could ever see.
I'd live on the empty moon forever,
just so we could be closer together.

Please don't you bring me down,
I don't remember when I last saw the sun.
Maybe five years ago or around,
or maybe it's only just been one.
Please don't you bring me down,
we both know I'm capable of that myself.
My smile has always been a frown,
no matter how happy I've ever felt.

I've been facing a head on collision,
with every choice and with every decision.
Chain smoking until my lungs turn black,
I'm sporting a death rattle with each wheeze and crack.
Oh how I am so lost,
I paid the price life cost.

Please don't you bring me down,
I'm living only under night skies.
Memorizing the one horse in this town,
it's been years since it last won a prize.
Please don't you bring me down,
I have no issue getting there on my own,
I've made myself a home within the ground,
the insects feed on me until the bone.

I've been facing a head on collision,
with every slice and each incision.
Chain smoking until I've lost my voice,
I cannot complain nor can I rejoice.
Oh, how I am so lost,
I leapt over the line I should never have crossed.

White doors in a white room that's stained,
white floors and yet the gloom remained.
Documented all my crimes,
only ten seconds clipped to advertise.
Shaking but not because the cold,
faking youth while feeling old.
I'm running out of things to say,
it's sunny but the clouds are always grey.

I've been facing a head on collision,
with every spark of ambition.
Chain smoking until I've reached my death,
or until there's no cigarettes left.
Oh, how I am so lost,
I've been cherished and I've been tossed.

You call yourself a soldier of fortune,
you have no idea how right you are.
Even though you think you're fighting for something important,
you're marching for a rich man's new car.
Each bullet you shoot is a stock market spike,
and each victory is new land to claim.
To them you're a barcode or close to the like,
those you fight for don't bother to know your name.

History is written by the winners,
so don't trust the accounts you read.
The strings are all pulled by the sinners,
who wouldn't offer you a bandaid while you bleed.
You may give your life for the flag,
there's honour in that thought.
But they're using your morals to drag,
you and your platoon from spot to spot.
To shoot to **** and see what treasures they've got.

The industries fund each side of the war,
making life and death just a casual bet.
Ford provides the tanks for both just like before,
money spent with a return they're guaranteed to get.
Land's value is more than you know,
'cause the world ain't making anymore anytime soon.
So pick a spot on the globe and go,
and ship out the next loyal platoon.

History is written by the winners,
so always question what you hear.
Behind the scenes there's profiteers and grinners,
and you're seizing the power and resources they hold so dear.
You may give your life to protect,
every single man, woman and child,
but they're using you in retrospect,
and smuggling things in a corpse defiled.
Do they even glance at the bodies that they have piled?

The world's in trouble, there's no denying,
and each soldier has stayed true and loyal.
But at home the problem is double, you'd never know with their lying.
You can't fight your own men and thus you can't get the oil.

Just like every crime, you have to follow the paper trial,
it's no different this time, you're a victim of a government that seeks to fail.
They've made you into a collection agency,
one with guns to force a payment.
It's in plain sight so blatantly,
every person and country has to pay their rent.
For population control,
everyone has to pay the toll.

History is written by the winners,
so only one side gets to plead it's case.
Instead of helping the kids getting thinner,
evil gets a makeover and changes it's face.
I don't wish to shame anyone doing their duty,
I know you believe you're doing the right thing.
But what I'm saying, or eluding,
is they've turned war into business that's always profiting.
So before you put your uniform on,
ask who will benefit from this battle.
You might see the side you fight for is wrong,
and they're marching you to slaughter like cattle.

The real wars are at home,
but they want the heroes to roam,
No one to stop their own war crimes,
counting dollars, quarters, nickels and dimes.
They even call it a machine,
could it be more obvious what they mean?

You asked if you could see me before I lost my mind,
I pushed back 'cause I was busy and it turned out that you went blind.
I know that speaking can still be a medicine,
but if the boat's leaking you don't let more water in.

Daily I read the news only to seek out the star signs,
today's lit a fuse literally and inbetween all of the lines,
and I must've read it over and over, about half a million times,
took the paper into a folder and made it into rhymes.

Now I'm living as a shell,
casing in an outdated ghost.
Stuck in a purgatory hell,
sailing back and forth; riding the coast.
But if I balance on the tightrope,
I might make it to the other side.
Clench my toes and then pray for hope,
and hold on for the slow painful ride.
I've been starving at a king's feast,
while the sun's been setting in the east.
I've been rioting while keeping the peace,
while the sun's been setting in the east.

If I stand still long enough I may fight the urge to shake,
I need a pill to make me strong and tough but it's the pill that makes me break,
and if I ask more favours of this world it just might turn to quake,
but I'll sit back and let it savour before I start to ache.

But you can see the snow piling into overload,
and you can tell yourself the sky's still blue,
but if you slide and drift through an open road,
your mind might not tell you what to do.
You'll feel your heart rise than drop,
as you struggle to stop.

Now I'm living in a shell,
casing in an outdated ghost.
The story's longer than I could ever tell,
but the message behind it is what matters the most.
But if I balance on the tightrope,
I might make it to the other side.
The string rises on into a *****,
I'll just pray my foot doesn't slide.
I've been starving at a king's feast,
while the sun's been setting in the east.
I've been only getting what I need least,
while the sun's been setting in the east.

I was never one for holidays from the start,
naturally I'm almost always depressed,
but tis was the season when life broke my heart,
and gifted me three years of feeling stressed.
Life became dark even with every coloured light,
every tree withered until they became dry,
the old Yuletide songs became cliche and trite,
I replaced each note with a tired sigh.

We couldn't deck all of the halls,
infact neither of us could even stand,
while the normal people were crowding the malls,
I was watching the clock's moving hand.
Santa never received a list from me,
I was too busy writing a final farewell,
I wasn't judged nice or naughty,
no destination towards heaven or hell.

Seven years of bad luck,
It's been seven years of dread.
Seven years since my comfort was struck,
it's been seven years since they pronounced you dead.
The winters have gotten longer,
the summers are never even there,
I'm weaker instead of stronger,
I'm fading and refusing care.

Our carol's weren't sung they were quietly spoken,
you know our festivities were just kind of a drag,
'cause that Christmas not a single present was opened,
Instead we closed up a body bag.
I watched them wheel you out the front door,
no reindeer were trotting on our roof,
I lay sobbing on our cold hard floor,
no Santa, no God, and I now had proof.

Seven years of bad luck,
It's been seven years of dread.
Seven years that image has been stuck,
reliving it inside my head.
The winters have gotten colder,
and summer has lost it's length.
I may be seven years older,
but it seems I've lost all my strength.

I still can't decorate a tree,
and saying "Merry Christmas" cuts me like a knife.
Atleast I'll always have my memory,
and you're with me with every kindness I show in my life.

A note to men from a woman: I'm sure you're tired of reading these,
but this one is crucial, I won't blame you for every problem in this world.
But I'm asking you to read the whole way through please,
for we've all been told to be seen and not heard since we were a small girl.

When you approach us to talk, don't look at *** walking on legs,
and don't talk to us as if you'd speak to *** itself.
Don't tell us to dress nicer, 'cause then we'll feel like we're dressed in rags,
and feel that pressure to look for a man for wealth.
Not every woman will use you, but some will,
and not every man will **** us, but some do still.
Truth is, we are treated differently, but so are you,
but we get to pull our discrimination out of our pocket when it suits us best,
Pocket is a metaphor, some workplaces "suggest" wearing skirts and something to show off the chest.
Worst part is, most women then do.

When a man loses a job to a woman; no one bats an eye,
"They've got an equality quota to fill" and that isn't a lie.
I'm sorry for that standard, for whoever is qualified should get the prize,
but we've lived in a world of participation awards and protest cries.
That being said, we almost always work under or for you,
not every time, but most times, you know that's true.
I can't speak for the wage gap, for in Canada we all earn our wage from the same,
but every woman I speak to works harder and longer then the men around,
for myself I stress to go above and beyond for my own pride and name,
while the boys all laugh and talk sports into the ground.

When you want to compliment us, please try to think of something other than our appearance,
Something that doesn't equal "you are pleasing for MY eyes to see."
We'd never say "you look like you've got a good ****" though I'm sure you might want to hear it,
but wouldn't it be better to compliment each others manners, hard work or creativity?
Tell a girl she's beautiful on a date, 'cause that's when she tried to look nice for you,
not when she's living life, she isn't bait,
especially not in sweatpants with an up-do.

You can hold a door open for us, and we can hold a door for you,
We can all hold doors open for each other.
Chivalry is dead, but common manner's will do,
we should treat one another like a sister or brother.
"Men and women can't be friends"
Well to that, I say it's a lie,
and so is the message that it sends,
that we are just meant to procreate then die.

Final message to men, and this one is so common it's insane,
But when we are nice and smile, it isn't to flirt,
It's be polite and sweet, it's that simple and plain.
So sticking with being polite, I'm sorry if your ego is hurt.
Don't claim we lead you on by being nice,
and don't use the word friend like it's a bad thing,
'cause that just proves you're looking at us like a vice,
even if you think you wanted to give us a ring.
No matter what you do for a woman, or your relationship with her,
gives you the right to enter her body without her soberly saying yes,
Imagine if we entered your urethra with needles over and over,
that's the closest comparison I can think of, I must confess.

Now to my females: don't cry wolf when you make a mistake,
I'm not talking about victim blaming, I'm talking about taking it back when you regret it the next day,
'Cause that hurts a real case of violation and heartbreak,
just because you have a boyfriend or the guy last night now has nothing to say.
When a man calls you a *****, please don't you get angry,
It's a compliment in my eyes, cause you spoke your mind against his.
A ***** has a spine and a mind, and that *****'s mind is free,
I would change my name to *****, maybe in front of it with "Ms."

"That's just the world we live in."
"That's just the way things are."
I don't know about you, but I believe we can all win,
In changing it to "the way things were " in a future not too far.

For you see, we are not each others natural enemy,
The real evil in this world drew this idea with great creativity,
to distract both him and her, and you and me.
They organized it, exaggerated it, and flashed it on a TV screen,
to keep our attention away from what's going on behind the scene.

So to all justice warriors who are obsessed,
still hold your torches and pitchfork in hand,
'Cause truth is no matter what 99% of us are all oppressed,
and right now by targeting each other, we work into the 1%'s plan.
All genders and races, we are all allies,
Look into our eyes and faces, and you'll see the ties.
By keeping us fighting one group or the next after that,
We don't have the energy or attention to go after the real threat.
It'll buy them time, while we buy their production line,and their wallets grow fat,
and we'll remain their pawns in their game, and they'll have the coin to place their next bet.

She walks away, colours tend to fade,
blending and mixing to a dreadful grey.
In another day, all decisions will be made,
With nothing left to do or left to say.

If you'd stay a little bit longer,
until the sun comes back,
I'll feel a little bit stronger,
regardless of what I lack.
And a part of me will always die,
whenever I'm forced to say goodbye.

I march along, to a beating drum but no song,
where everything is neither right nor wrong.
In another week, I'll lose the will to speak,
only listening to the floorboards as they creak.

If you'd stay a little bit longer,
until the sun comes back,
my memories will become fonder,
even though the past I'll have lost track.
And a part of me will always die,
whenever I'm forced to lie.

We continue on, as if there's nothing that is gone,
waiting out the night to see the dawn.
In another year, I'll still be standing here,
and honestly it's my hope but biggest fear.

If you'd stay a little bit longer,
until the sun comes back,
I'd put hold on my honour,
for too long the sky's been black.
And a part of me will always die,
whenever I'm forced to try.

If you'd stay a little bit longer,
until the sun comes back,
I'll feel a little bit stronger,
regardless of what I lack.
And a part of me will always die,
whenever I'm forced to say goodbye.

Dreams of dawn keep waking me,
I'm going on another spree,
of taking a path that's not worn down,
I've been faking the math and turning it around.

I don't want to go, but I know, that life is so.
I don't want to go, with the flow, they move too slow.

Dreams of dawn keep waking me,
with a yawn and shaking constantly.
Feeling ill and dreading the sun,
so I'll take a pill but it's not the only one.

I don't want to go, but I know, life is so.
I don't want to go, the wind's can blow, I'll hide from the snow.
I don't want to go, but I know, life is so.
I don't want go, I'm feeling low, I'm no swan but a crow.

Dreams of dawn are waking me,
I'll be a pawn along with society.
Too much work for too little of pay,
my knees will **** but my feet will stay.

I don't want to go, but I know, life is so.
I don't want to go, I'll never grow, if this world's a foe.
I don't want to go, but I know, life is so.
I don't want to go, march in a row, and feel the tow.
I don't want to go, but I know, life is so.
I don't want to go, don't make me, no, there won't be a show.

I am the rain, contact and I stain,
hydration for the nation but they always complain.
I'm better than snow, or atleast they say so,
less cold but I'm bold when I make the wind blow.

Oh how the clouds cover all of my scars,
but the comforting shelter blocks the beautiful stars.
And all of the thunder blocks all of my cries,
I slip when I drip straight out of the skies.
I'm the rain, I'm the rain, down the drain.

I am the rain, sun storms I can feign,
it will fight for the light but I always remain.
My puddles collect each dribble and speck,
with a splash then I'm brash just like you would expect.

Oh how the clouds cover all of my scars,
the blanket of grey mask the twinkle of Mars.
And all of the lightning makes everyone blind,
you will pass greener grass when I'm around, you will find.
I'm the rain, I'm the rain, sunshine's bane.

I am the rain, wash away the pain,
I get bored and absorb into dirt and to grain.
My heart is the storm, it still keeps me warm,
it shakes, the Earth quakes, but still keeps it's form.

Oh how the clouds cover all of my scars,
as I fall down on sidewalks and shower the cars.
And when the wind blows it pushes me far away,
I'll travel through gravel but always will stay.
I'm the rain, I'm the rain, through each vein.

Pack up my personality,
make sure the tape really sticks.
This home has been my totality,
every board and all the bricks.
Throw away my secrets,
we'll need a bag just for those,
and I hope I won't have to repeat this,
but I don't want those stains on my clothes.
The woman makes the threads anyways, I suppose.

It'll be the last time that I close that door,
on those twenty-four years before,
it gave me warmth and so much more,
when I was stranded it was my shore,
home is where the heart is, so says the lore.

Put away my memories,
in a box that's labeled "fragile,"
'cause even though they'll lift with ease,
I'd prefer for them all not to pile.
Throw away the forgotten fights,
the ones that always left the scars.
Make sure to only bring the nights,
with the brightest moon and stars,
but they won't fit into such small cars.

It'll be the last time that I close that door,
on those twenty-four years before,
where I sat dazed on the floor,
feeling high enough to soar,
home is where the heart is, but I'm lacking that core.

Store away my personality,
the one that fits me like a glove,
all the things that compile of me,
and illustrate all the things I love.
Throw away the parts of me that are broken,
I don't think I'll ever long for them,
but wait, maybe I've just misspoken,
cause that's the root of my twisted stem,
even a damaged jewel is still a gem.

It'll be the last time that I close that door,
on those twenty-four years before,
and there won't be twenty-four more.
It'll be the last time that I close that door,
I have no idea what's now in store,
home is where the heart is, but my chest is bruised and sore.

So say goodbye to Tower,
a street where once I walked each path,
where I knew each tree and flower,
and love's bliss and heartbreak's wrath.
Also say farewell to family,
well essentially it's only the dwelling,
but I don't know what life has planned for me,
as with the future there is no telling.

It'll be the last time that I close that door,
on those twenty-four years before,
there won't be twenty-four more.
It'll be the last time that I close that door,
I'll open a window to even the score,
home is where the heart is, but the beats feel like a chore.

My love is more pure than a diamond,
even with a heart of dark, black coal.
Lately I've been expanding my mind and,
getting high on draining my soul.
I skip notes like a broken record,
and thus conversation is never relayed.
I make choices with how it will affect her,
we both know that's how the game is played.

But I know that I have the potential to destroy a life,
and that's why I decorate in caution tape.
Yes I know it reflects shining misery and strife,
but I've been strapped in so long; I can't escape.

I've got high hopes and low odds,
hearing only demons who act as gods.
I've got low morale but skin of steel,
even when I watch it bleed and peel.

My love is more pure than the deepest of seas,
even with affection that's coarse like sand.
Lately I've been biting and silencing my pleas,
and digging my nails straight into my hand.
I sink ships like a waiting ice field,
stopping it dead right in it's path,
and not even the greatest mirror shield,
could ever withstand my full wrath.

'Cause I know that I have the ability to stick around,
so I try to make sure that I am never really there.
My soul fears the day when it is chained and bound,
but the opportunities seem so very rare.

I've got high hopes and low odds,
rambling this nonsense with the nods.
I've got low morale but skin of steel,
it deflects the good and bad that I should feel.

When Winter hits I'll be wishing I was still young,
but when Summer's around I'm still biting my tongue.
We both know that the storms have always been mine,
I never claimed to be blue skies and sunshine.

Atleast the nights are almost always cold,
but they keep me warm with the beauty of the stars.
Shining wishes for all, or so I'm told,
accessories for both Jupiter and Mars.

The snow covers all with blinding white,
but in the Summer the grass could always be more green.
We both know the storms have always been mine by rite,
'cause the blue skies were never truly clean.

You know every four season,
time has never moved so fast.
They've all blended for no reason,
never disappearing but they never last.
The world turns, the moon shines,
The sun burns, Nature's designs.

When Winter hits I'll be wishing I was still young,
but when Summer's around it still seems Spring never sprung.
We both know the storms we're always made for me,
I have always been the rain and you the sea.

You know every four season,
time has never moved so fast,
freezing to death when I let the breeze in,
and the outcome never matches the forecast.
The world turns, the moon shines,
and everyone yearns, everyday for some signs.

There's some lessons to learn, but I can only teach so much,
resentment will cause you to burn, so to anger please never clutch.
It will take up room in your brain, and make your eyes seem hollow,
it'll cause your heart to drain and soon your soul will follow.

Here is a tired line, a real used up remark,
but the stars can only shine when the sky is truly dark.
You can only feel good after you've felt so incredibly low,
you'd climb out if you could, your strength isn't just for show.

Do not seek out only wealth,
it will not buy you a life to live,
focus more so on your health,
and the cures Mother Nature can give.
Every object will become broken and will only create waste,
the real gifts are the ones spoken, with words that are truth based.

Always show love to your mother,
'cause you'll miss her badly when she's gone,
and look to a stranger like a brother,
and appreciate the dusk as if it were dawn.

There's some lessons to learn,
but there's just too many to say,
and some with mistakes you'll earn,
and some you'll realize another day.
Always find ways to expand your mind,
never stop seeking the truth,
and look at the world as if colourblind,
and please don't waste your precious youth.

Sleep; I've been waiting for you every night,
and I'm in too deep, so deep I can barely see the light.
I've been counting sheep, but there's always one more in my sight,
they want to leap, but their small legs don't have the might.

This isn't good for me, no, it's not good for anyone,
A human was meant to see, the warmth and light of the sun.
I've wasted Summer away, we're almost in November,
I'm losing more life every day, I just want to sleep forever.

So sing me some lies and lullabies,
something sweet that won't make me cry,
some sighs for the starry skies,
for just you and I.
Sing me some lies and lullabies,
something sweet to make me try,
some sighs for my tired eyes,
it's just you and I.

I don't wish to live this way, no, no one should be a vampire,
but I do it for the pay, because the rent is getting higher.
When's the last time I felt sane? I don't even really remember,
each breath causes pain, I just want to sleep forever.

Sleep; I've been waiting for you every night,
and I wish to keep, what remains of my brain that's right.
I've been counting sheep, but there's always one more in my sight,
the number's steep, and the fence is closing in tight.

This isn't good for me, no, this isn't good for anyone,
people were meant to be, another animal to hunt and run.
I've wasted my life away, next will come December,
I'm sure I'll feel the same in May, I just want to sleep forever.

Neon lights; they're taking away my rights,
advertising so bright, only capitalism in sight.
Slaving away, to make ends meet each day,
creditors barely at bay, with the same thing they always say:

"You're indebted to us,
we manipulated your trust,
and now we own you; head, feet and bust,
but it's your life and wallet that we lust."

Constant bills, money has lost all of it's thrills,
no heat; you freeze and chill, then starving; being poor kills.
Yet still it seems so, they think you have the money to blow,
on the pointless things for show,
or on knowledge you will never know.

So tell me when will it stop?
When will the prices drop?
The well's dry and farms lack the crop,
the economy is doomed to flop.
From the advertisers, the supersizers,
the colonizers, the demonetizers.

Going to pray, that I survive another day,
to light a candle to show the way, but for the light I have to pay.
Now it seems to me, that Heaven is meant for the wealthy,
and our lives; a shopping spree, in this Hell we get for free.

So tell me how long will it be,
until Jesus' sandals are Nike,
and his **** cloth is Gucci,
and they trademark the word "Holy."

So tell me how long will it be,
until Jesus' sandals are Nike,
and his **** cloth is Gucci,
and praying will cost a service fee.

The broken man can not feel,
no, the broken man can not heal.
The broken man creates a child,
and leaves it defenseless in the wild.

The broken man does not care,
no, the broken man is never there.
The broken man is built to roam,
after he destroys your home.
He'll put your life upon a shelf,
yes, the broken man only loves himself.
The broken man has no voice,
ignoring common sense with every choice.

It's his world, it's his life,
you've been hurled, for his wife.
It's his plan, it's his goals,
the broken man leaves broken souls.

The broken man just lives for fun,
he believes he is the only one.
The broken man is always dazed,
and believes his family is not phased.
The broken man cares much for wealth,
but still he only loves himself.
The broken man is my father,
and I don't wish to be a broken daughter.

It's his world, it's his life,
he’s got pearl, I’ve got strife.
It's his clan, filled by holes,
the broken man leaves broken souls.

The broken man does not feel,
no, the broken man will always steal.
The broken man creates a child,
and the broken man has never smiled.
The broken man cares not for health,
but he'll always only love himself.
The broken man is my father,
because of the mother I miss; he forgot her.

It's his world, it's his life,
you've been hurled, for his wife.
It's his plan, it's his goals,
the broken man leaves broken souls.

Combining each thought and sharing a single mind,
while all living things rot, there's a darkness that can blind.
We believe ourselves are invisible, never worthy of a second glance,
and even when miserable, we all can receive a second chance.

Darling have you heard the story of the sun and the moon,
a love that was eternal, yet ended far too soon.
And even though opposite, they made the other complete,
as at night the Earth was moonlit and in day the sun brought heat.

And they were outlined by the stars,
forever lighting up their connection,
and in between came Mercury and Mars,
barely sliding by detection.
Yes it's truly a sorry and sad tune,
that old love story of the sun and the moon.

Shining for eachother and lighting up the world,
with a love that could smother and emotional tides always swirled.
Passing by and on the go, barely glimpsing a sight,
but the moon will always glow and the sun will always shine bright.

Darling have you heard the story of the sun and the moon,
with disaster so contagious, they were always truly immune,
and even though apart, they shared a soul together,
and they shared a heart, and they shared the skies forever.

And they were outlined by the stars,
forever lighting up their connection.
In the history books and memoirs,
there's some things they fail to mention:
they were both adoring and made the other swoon,
that old love story of the sun and the moon.

It wasn't well hidden; they danced a dance of pure seduction,
and they felt it was forbidden, as it would lead to their destruction.
So they kept their space, to give us both the dark and the light,
and now they rise and set as a race, it's competition and a fight.

And they were outlined by the stars,
forever lighting up their connection.
The constellations near and far,
tell the tale of their affection.
It may not be of glory, and it may just tell of ruin,
but we all should remember the love story of the sun and the moon.

We watched stars shine bright, searching for any that shot,
and we witnessed none that night so we wished on the ones we got.
I confessed with a laugh that if my brain was split in two,
they could observe each half and each stem would lead to you.

We stood in dark parking lots, feet treading on glass long broken,
my head was drowning in thoughts; every one unspoken.
I stumbled on a confession each and every single time,
that you were a drug and an obsession; a favourite of mine.

And she talks to me in dreams,
whispering words of true love.
It tells of beautiful melodic themes,
a voice that comes from above.
Two souls forever bound, two bodies wrapped in sheets,
listening to the sound of our joined heartbeats.

We laughed together in dim light to jokes only we would get,
and you were the only thing in sight, my sunrise and my sunset.
I traced the outlines of your form, with both hands and my eyes,
and together we'll keep warm; arms on shoulders, legs on thighs.

And she kisses me awake,
her lips greet me like the sun.
But my dream world doesn't break,
'cause her presence tends to stun.
I have finally been found, once I was lost in the dark streets,
now we're listening to the sound of our joined heartbeats.

Caress my skin and whisper my name in my ear,
I'll let your voice in 'cause it's all I want to hear.
Fingertips can scratch, but now they feel so smooth,
the last mark I didn't catch but now I think I got the groove.
Candlelight will show me all I need to see,
and my hands will guide to where they need to be.
Our voices mesh into one, our souls and mind link,
and our hearts beat together; perfectly in sync.

And she blows air into my chest,
giving me oxygen to breathe.
With her hand resting upon my breast,
I promise her that I'll never leave.
Side by side on the ground, same song just repeats,
and we're listening to the sound of our joined heartbeats.

As always I'm dreading just leaving my bed,
I've got a hundred thoughts threading fog through my head.
Another day to live, twenty-four hours of fight,
I don't have much else to give; I used it all up last night.
Am I the only one to see colour in different shades and hues?
'Cause lately this world seems duller, the Earth has lost it's muse.

My body is aching through every bone and joint,
and my will is breaking, for I no longer see the point.
I grasp fire just to feel pain and stare at the sun to go blind,
It seems I've got a plastic brain and a melting mind.

I'm stressing out in a traffic even though I'm in no real hurry,
but in my head details are graphic of every fear and worry.
Another week to go through, seven days of pointless waste,
you know the feeling too true, you know it's feel and it's taste.
Am I the only one to see colour, instead of just white and black?
'Cause lately this world is duller, there's so much that we lack.

My body is aching from my head down to my toes,
and I'm just faking the knowledge no one else really knows.
I wonder if I'm sane, and if I'm alone and confined,
it seems I've got a plastic brain and a melting mind.

Why does it feel that every person I meet isn't real?
As if they're stuck in a dream, or following a line down stream.
Does anyone else think like this?
That there's something we all miss,
'cause wasn't life a gift of bliss?
Instead we regret and only reminisce.

My body is aching through every limb and pore,
and no matter what you're making, you'll always need more.
Can't be another link in a chain; bound, locked and intertwined,
I suffer from a plastic brain and a melting mind.

My memories; constantly haunting me,
except the good ones, those thoughts always run.
Need a canvas that's blank, to paint new lessons to teach,
that ship already sank, think I just need some bleach.
It's always out of reach.

My soul is soiled, my heart is broke,
my taste buds were boiled, my lungs only choke.
From temple to ruin, whole body to breech,
death will come soon, think I just need some bleach.
I'm through being a leech.

Losing sight, losing hope,
losing the fight against the rope.
Losing sleep, this is my niche,
I'm in deep, and craving bleach.

I carry a cross; one on each shoulder,
it's strengthened by loss, weighs down like a boulder.
Each carries a name, but I'm not like to preach,
I'm dreading the blame, think I just need some bleach.
I volunteer for impeach.

Losing sight, losing hope,
choosing plight, and fail to cope.
Losing sleep, silence to screech,
the stains will keep, still wanting bleach.

My memories; constantly haunting me,
except the good ones, they all are done,
need a new start, a day on the beach,
thread's been ripped apart, think I just need some bleach.
It's always out of reach.

The sun and the moon; two halves of one,
perfection and ruin, both towards and away you run.
The light and the dark; a balance to complete,
spotless save for a mark, not every goodbye is sweet.

They say you can't **** the future,
it's the future that ***** you.
Not every wound needs a suture,
some things are destined to bleed through.
I'll reveal every reason, a list to only create pain,
it's the end of the season so let's feel the August rain.

The ground and the sky together they create a world,
laughing while you cry, emotions always seem swirled.
The bright and the black; a balance to complete,
a code you can't crack, a win that feels of defeat.

They say you should never waste a day,
because there just might not be a tomorrow.
Not every instinct can be held at bay,
some lives are destined to bathe in sorrow.
I'll treasure every thing about her, she's the one to keep me sane,
but it's the end of the summer so let's enjoy the August rain.

The heat and the cold, they so beautifully compliment,
the young and the old, the strength of detriment.
The colours and the grey, they exist altogether,
but nothing gold can stay and nothing good lasts forever.

Nothing is perfect in this world,
but there's always a balance of symmetry,
the only thing Holy is my girl,
and a prayer was answered when she chose me.
So let's usher the cold harsh breeze in,
and lets feel the heat slowly drain,
'cause it's the end of the season,
so keep me warm in the August rain.

You said you wanted to play a round of Sorry,
but that you didn't know the game,
instead you used Pictionary to draw for me,
but every scribbled messaged looked the same.

You said you related to Snakes and Ladders,
I guess because you like to go up and down.
You hope that I fall off and my leg shatters,
and the snakes eat me on the ground.

So go on and roll the dice, pretend to take a chance,
so go on and play nice, I know you've mastered that dance.
We don't need anyone else to play,
the two of us can share the blame.
So what do you say? Let's play another board game.

You suggested next Monopoly, your greed would help you win,
I think you just wanted to beat me, then wanted to rub it in.
I asked if you liked Risk, though strategy was never my strength,
your "no" came out very brisk, you never liked games of length.

You said you would love a round of Battleship,
I guess so you could shoot and bring me down,
watching me sink within my crypt,
right until I reached the ground.

So go on and roll the dice, pretend to take a chance,
we can play the same one twice, you'll keep your winning stance.
We can do it all your way, rules can keep things too tame,
so what do you say? Let's play another board game.

As a child your favourite game was Trouble,
but not because you're a living cliche,
you claim you liked to pop the bubble,
hoping each time it would break away.

I caught a butterfly, I kept it trapped within a jar,
it soared to the lid; it wasn't high, I never let it go too far.
I caught a butterfly, I wished for it to be my pet,
but without fresh air it was bound to die, a lesson I still forget.

I caught a butterfly, she was grazing over green grass,
together we watch time go by, together we see the days pass.
I caught a butterfly, to this day I still thank my net,
but with too much sun it's wings will fry, a lesson I still forget.

Life is not meant to be,
lived out as on display,
as that butterfly was once me,
now it's another's soul today.

I caught a butterfly, fresh out of her cocoon,
she barely chanced to fly, she never glimpsed sun nor the moon.
I caught a butterfly, I believed it was luck that we met,
but wings waving can mean hello or goodbye, a lesson I still forget.

Life is not meant to be,
locked up and put away,
it belongs with the air of a tree,
under blue skies or grey.

I caught a butterfly, I was excited to show everyone,
what you can grasp if you try, what can actually be done.
I caught a butterfly, and it's life's days are now just a bet,
I can't even look myself in the eye, it's a lesson I can't forget.

Life is not meant to be,
observed from far away,
we all deserve to live free,
and free we all should stay.

She is the sea, her waves crashing on the rocks,
slowly washing over me, drenching right down to my socks.
Providing life's true source, well, if it wasn't for her salt,
swirling on with no remorse but it's really not her fault.

She is the sky, both the day and the night,
up impossibly high and such a breath taking sight.
While the clouds can cover sun, the horizon will still stay clear,
and I pray that I'm the one that she'll always be near.

Oh, I live for her, and she gives me the will,
but I would still prefer for our world to stay still.

She is the air, invisibly filling up my lung,
standing up each and every hair, and tingling on my tongue.
Breathing in can revive a person once marked for dead,
she is keeping me alive by simply filling up my head.

Oh, I live for her, and she gives my life thrill,
but I would still prefer for our world to stay still.

She is the mountain, both rocky and very steep,
housing the sheep that I've lost count in while missing out on sleep.
Outlining my sight and enhancing beauty in my world,
and when we lay together at night, her curves fit into mine curled.

Oh, I live for her, and she's my red pill,
but I would still prefer for our world to stay still.

In the bottom of her drink,
she found the undeniable truth,
that she was right to feel and think,
that she wasted most of her youth.
Looking back on those late nights,
there was real purity between both eyes,
that shone brighter than all the lights,
and held more beauty than a sunrise.

With mixed drinks and mixed feelings,
it's hard to always stay on course,
every word can set you reeling,
regardless of it's force.
Melting dilutes the flavor,
and it's potential to set you free,
with each sip you try to savor,
the things that can never be.
With mixed drinks and mixed feelings,
no it's not meant for the weaklings.

In the shadows of a smoke filled room,
she prays to whoever listens for one more chance,
it would still be fated to be met with doom,
that's just always due to circumstance.
The glass is not half empty,
and it sure as hell isn't half full,
it's contents spilt on the floor for all to see,
and her grasp neither pushed nor pulled.

With mixed drinks and mixed feelings,
it's hard to always stay on course,
and each sip meant to be healing
is dampened and ruined by remorse.
The straw will get you more drunk,
but it's not half as satisfying,
that ship sailed until it sunk,
so it was never even worth trying.
With mixed drinks and mixed feelings,
it was shown the potential hit it's ceiling.

So down your last glass, and say your last word,
'cause time goes by too fast, your confessions won't be heard.

"Will you remember me?"
she asks me so fondly,
"lately I've been forgetting,
but you're just so **** haunting."