How many times must I ask*
For forgiveness for this sin
Just when I think I've conquered
It rears it's ugly head again

And with it comes the guilt, the shame
In my moment of despair
The vicious cycle starts again
A well traveled road that leads nowhere

My inner being knows what's right
And yet I do what's wrong
My spirit yearns to stand and fight
The flesh that holds me down

Without the power of the Cross
My life will not concede
Until I've finally had enough
There is no hope for me

So who will save this sinful man
When I have nothing else
Praise be to Christ, the Great I Am
*Who saves me from myself

Perfume that makes me rememebr late nights in the backseat of your car
you knew this, and so you wore it three times, and i could smell it from afar
i caught it as i walked by even across the room,
and i was overtaken by images
images so easy to sink back into -
so easy to want when everything else is so hard to do
i missed these when i shouldnt
they werent mine but stolen
i dont hold onto them but they hit me
like your perfume in my face
They linger in faint traces
when you leave the room

I was born without a family,
Always stayed inside my bed,
I never had a friend,
By 15 I was dead,

You found me in my closet,
With a noose around my neck,
You knew that I was gone,
Called my brother in to check,

Your suspicions turned out true,
I guess it's not so bad,
I mean he didn't amount to much,
And he was always way too sad,

I was forgotten by next week,
No funeral was had,
No one to call and tell,
Not even his own dad.

I am aware this isn't true,
Just how things play out in my head,
Please just let me be so selfish,
Please don't miss me when I'm dead.

I am a hollow and cast no shadow;
And loneliness became my only tomorrow
With no happiness and time to borrow;
Empty as can be overflowing with sorrow...

My soul is bound to suffer;
Trapped in the dark only to cower
No intervention just constant desolation;
I have my own world in complete isolation...

Screams can no longer be heard by my ears;
As whispers echo in my head a cycle that steers
I can no longer define the meaning of life, why am I here?
Do I even exist and for what cause' or purpose? What do I fear?

I question answers to ask myself as I've been told the truth;
What can I possibly gain? Which kind of torment can bare a fruit?
There's gotta be more than this?What of my existence breathing in void?;
This could be a living damnation one that cannot be questioned...Is this God's choice?...

When will I ever see the light? Am I even trying? While I stay up all night;
Thinking and pondering how I get this far? What have I done to suffer blight?
Questions I asked myself in an endless cycle, a redundant process I walked through lines of blasphemy daily;
There's no complexity in this...A living Nightmare and misery..

Constantly, incessantly
I spin yarns
& simple stories,
complex allegories.

I'm infected
with the hex of gab
& it hurts to be
not so fabulous,
what some
might call me,
a human-reject.

I am not a poet,
just addicted,
afflicted with the
disease of
word-construction blues
& hues of red,
the spilling of
real blood
in twisted-verse.

From the knoll rolled the meadow blue brown and green
The silence of the Spring sky shielded the distant din
Winds blew in a dusty peace bought mind a soft solace
First star on the meridian chimed in the evening’s grace.

Atop the knoll came the call for once to break the race
Hear the hushed whispers of dreams long suppressed
Stand there hugged by those moments’ forgetfulness
No need survives for going back there exist no address.

The chance in that trance wove a blithesome spell
It’s here that you belong for you is made this dale
Drink in this heavenly whim hidden nectar of the mind
Unshackle from the chains of an illusion left behind.

The sky was soon illumined by the monstrous city light
Faded the meridian’s first star stillborn was mournful night
Atop the knoll dawned darkness the meadow was a distant blur
It was time to retrace downhill to forever nurse a scar.

One flick of the match
And you lit up
To destroy the evenness
Of her functioning

Burning on one end
Glowing ember
Self destructing yourself
As well as her minutes

She quickly exhales
You slither through
The veins and her lungs
Clasping her blood
Her eyes being the reflector of the sins

Everyday those twenty bucks
Distributed in innumerable spaces
For preparation of Her funeral
For the ashes in the vase.