Thin wire, overzealous leading to being over tired...
an over reliance on the hopes of being reinspired,
The burning thoughts; of a migraine constantly on fire.

Ten thousand shots in my head—ba, ba, ba, ba,
swimming over my depths, trying my best to breathe;
all the while in still waters choking my neck. Some live
too long...living a life of the dead.

I'm singing a song, better sounding inside—la, la, la, la,
It goes while I'm looking in the mirror, seeing myself and my
self enemy. Who's betting on their works, to seem like a better
version of themself/me?

Letting be of the many ways I try to appear calm in some days.
Hunger in my eyes; starved of the sights of true love.
But the dirtiest intentions, has my face fully covered in mud.
I give and give, but these returns are never enough.
But plenty are the voices in my head, battling constantly—blah, blah, blah, blah, as no-one else hears this cracking glass in my chest.

I figure we're all fragile figures, in the end.

Somewhere along the line, you changed.
You built walls all around you
and wore armor against the world,
You guarded your heart so well you could behave as though you didn't have one at all,
Even now, it's a shabby broken thing
but you still have it.
Not a heart of stone nor of ice,
But a fragile heart of glass
Sharpened through all its edges to stop anyone from getting in,
To stop the pain from getting out,

I understand why you wear armour,
That's why I wear it too.

which is more fragile —
the mind, or the brain?

My nights have never been so fragile
until my words traces my heart
and tears filled up its meaning—

this is how a little shipwreck
can sink me.

I hope you know  
how much I wanted to tell you
how beautiful the stars
as you are.

How I attach you on every story I know about the sea
and how much light you fill in me, I couldn't bear to lose it.

My words will always find you
and will lingers in me;
you have always been a part of it.

It is as if a wave of tranquility passed over me this morning. Still numb. However, the strenuous longing to feel has dissipated. The wounds have be temporarily cauterized. No empty pain lingers in the darkness like a phantom menace. I felt nothing before, But I knew I was in pain. Now the nothingness consumes any lingering obscure thoughts. I am the hollow man; Such a fragile shell I carry on burden bones. But tis a pleasant day indeed. Thunder storms barrage the sky in open warfare and ominous tear drops soak the battlefield. For once I am not the fool weeping alone; The world takes my place, my pain, my suffering, and I revel in the warmth of it's tears as any good sadist does.