Drip drip the rain goes
The farm rots and the wind blows
Time fades away like light into darkness
The Blackness drips come centerfold

In the realm of the nothing it can be so lonely
Dreaming about a better time with your one and only
But hope is like the poor man's change
Give it up and things will stay the same

So the black gives in to bright
The stars are shining over the night
The city glistens like a diamond rock
And you and your love wake up together

Beyond sorrow,  do you know what was waiting there
I ran straight into the arms of  despair

I'm tired...
Not the I can't do it,
The i'm done kind of tired...
It's much more complicated...
Imagine a train that runs on dreams
Faith, trust, pixie dust and sunbeams...
What do you fathom would happen
If one day,
It ran out of steam
perhaps like a grandfather clock
one with no tick to its tock
It wouldn't chime on any hour
And the metronome would stop...
So just like any other dead clock
It will not move for its time has stopped
Logical that maybe
But this dream fueled train i speak of...
It's actually me..
My once roaring engine is now cu-put
And the fueling room is empty,
I already burnt the soot
But regardless i still have to move forward
By any means necessary..
So i strip away my accessories
And tear out some useful necessities
I feed them all to the fire
Call me a cannibal if you want
I guess that's what it would seem
Maybe this is what they meant
By nothing ever comes freely
Even enduring has a price...
But i'm still not moving yet...
So i reverse engineer my locomotive of dreams
And covert the power source to my apparently abundant screams
They say that pain is a gate way
To some where that's green
I guess they got it wrong
You're  used like a machine
Sure, you're going forward,
At less than a steady pace,
I'd rather stay still and stuck forever
Than cringe at my own  sullen face
But people cheer on
"Keep going!!! You're almost there!!!"
I whisper, quietly erased...
"I can't afford to.. I have nothing left to spare"
I really thought i'd get some where...
I tried..
I cared..
Even if you want to roll again..
This game of life still isn't fair...
So with my dreams expired
And my resolve retired...
I fall off the tracks and sigh
"I'm tired..."
" So very, very tired..."

Was I on the edge?

Did I push back?

Should I have jumped?

I’m on the edge,

I’m looking over,

And the whole world is pushing,

On my shoulders.


http://tansyroake.weebly.com/

-When you start to spiral towards the hopeless
-You need to somehow gain new focus
-Because truth will always shine its' light and scatter lies like locusts
-Sometimes truth is not convenient but face it all the same
-Since the dawn of man our lives never have been tame
-We all owe it to each other to run this complex race
-Take a hand when it is offered and share the burden of your pain
-No one is the author, at least that's how it seems
-There is no rhyme or reason to the morbid and obscene
-But we CAN control our minds to shape how we perceive
-Happiness is our own choice, so breathe deeply and just be

mom can you see the woman I've become,
hair as white as elsa's,
voice more passionate than a hug
but mother I'm sorry for my mistakes, my misdemeanors
my unholy ****, scraped off by the windshield much like the bugs.
scraping off my dead skin cells, my tired flesh, my small love
im sorry for cursing the ground that you walked.
im sorry for exasperating your love and good thoughts,
im sorry for being too strung out to give a **** what you thought
but now I hope you see, that i am all you thought I could be
that I am more than my scars, my lost loves, and my horrors
I am seventeen years old but my heart is much harder
because I have seen pain spread greater than a fire
I have seen heartache being men to their knees,
and painful memories spread like disease
my mother I'm inhibited
by self crippling doubt,
I am breathing yes,
but not quite living now.
I pull phony smiles from my lips to my eyes,
I combat the night with sparkling tears in my eyes.
you see my mother I am seventeen years old,
with a trauma like brain, dying, and cold
I might be seventeen but my weakness is ancient,
my lips are the vessels, words carried out through the nations
my dearest mother I love you so, and I am very sorry for the days my weaknesses show.

We watch the perpetual war in the sky
The vivid colors of the gods
Bleeding before the mountains
A sultry foreshadow of nightfalls' catastrophe
He waits for the Suns' demise
Under the Gemini Moon
My Twin Legs split open
Wolves echo in synchronicities of
Madness
In the morning I call for Zeus
God of Thunder
Crack the earth open
Let my lovers fall to the underworld of your brothers  
Wash the scents of greed from my hair
And the hyrogliphic bite marks from my thighs  
Or bare my soul to wind
Starvation and feast
It all tastes like love
under the Yellowstone moon.

My body cannot comprehend,
My mouth cannot utter,
My mind cannot construct thoughts

Correctly

At the thought of living life without
Seeing
Meeting
Talking to
The one I drool over every single day.

It seems like I can no longer function.

But I know
That the one I drool over
Does not answer to my affections

Yet,
It's as if I can't stop thinking about
Can't stop living without
Can't stop loving without

**You