When I was 15, the world ended.
And it wasn't as spectacular as I thought it was going to be.
I had always imagined the sky tearing open and flames of fury would rain down upon us all,
But instead, it was my heart that was torn in half, and the fire only rained down on me.
It took 45 seconds for me to destroy everything that I knew,
and create an entirely different world,
Not only for me, but also for the people that knew me.
I was born again, bore the sin, more than anything horrible I ever felt, I was torn in ten.
Had I put a knife to my throat? Or fell in love?
What's the origin?
And nobody could ever understand it better than the horror itself that closed me in.
But she destroyed the bin,
With me in it and I was never ever sure again.
Like paper shredding under fluorescent tubes, my skin was thin.
Let demons in and they took shelter and then horrid soreness manifested within.
The eyes of the Lord looking down upon the men and women,
And all he could see was that my darkness had surfaced again.
I swore to Him I'd never resort to that sin,
But more than expected I was short of the win,
And lost myself with hopelessness,
My unfortunate friend.
Scorching torture forced me to pretend,
Over and over I retorted the fib with a grin;
Smiled as the lore spread like venom in skin.
The door to the end was open.
Therefore I went in,
And premonitions filled my core,
So I was forced to give in.
Over the course of a decade, the source of discourse caused me to see a red shade of anger.
For what felt like 4 million days I endured the rage,
Simple and plain I was psychotic, in danger,
ignoring the ways
To force myself to have a smile on my face.
It remains insane to me how the blade, when it penetrated,
Gave my skin goosebumps,
The doctor made me feel humiliated.
Sickness in my brain wants to put me in my grave,
OD was the second time I attempted the same.
But the fact of the matter is
The facts are a shame.
And the way that I felt this day,
Brought hope of finding a way,
To rid my head of the voices that haunt me,
Spewing disdain.
Third time's a charm I suppose,
Or at least that's what they say.

There's a time in, dare I say,
Every man's life where he must
Choose between what is wrong
And what is not going to help.
He must be able to see that
What is right will not be the correct answer;
What is wrong will be the path to go.
For in these times, a man will realize that
What he seeks is not for him to obtain,
But acknowledge it as a mirage on the horizon,
Some distance away,
On a course that would seal his fate.
Lost at sea is the man who obtains what he seeks,
For his worth he keeps in his shirt pocket,
Limited by the darkness that surrounds it.
He knows not the detriment that lurks below
As he drowns in his own greed,
Betrayed by the hands of his own god.

Unlike Drake, we didn't start at the bottom,
We met about midway.
Two people amidst a common problem.
Darkness cloaks this part, at most I'll start to
Coast to the cause of the issues that bother
Cole the most, his heart revokes the thought
Of coming close to ignoring it farther.
I understand like a ghost, I see right through your father,
Voices don't come close to being as
Reprimanding as thoughts do.
They long for your heart to retain as much hatred as they can barter,
Until you can't stand the way that you breath or look at a person the same as you're recalling.
Much to the dismay of Blood,
I had to leave, I was falling,
Alcohol was more important than you all
And for that I'm sorry.
I tried to get away and break my chains
But veins yearn for that which takes the pain
Away and for that I only grew to know more pain.
One thing led to another and still the story's the same,
I've thrown away 5 years of my life to help me dig my own grave.
Amazingly I've made it through to write this story
And say that I've put childish things aside,
And live a better life today.
I support my son and make a living,
Just as Blood may.
As humans we're designed to seek that which
May better our emotional state,
On each individual level.
We chase that which can
Levitate our own knowledge in case there are
Discrepancies at bay.
As people, don't you want to know the full story,
I know your reputation for curiosity precedes you.
If not, why do I not deserve a chance at a sorry?
What means necessary must I take just to have a conversation?
It's quite hypocritical in fact,
But I digress in that partly.
Does trepidation rule over you,
Til you're blind to damnation?
Forevermore, you have risen,
Yet I remain uncomplacent.

Seems that ‘entertainment-sake’ started off with ease,
But now the pain is greater and it's hard to contain it.
Whatever need be said here's my attempt to say it,
I hope this doesn't leave me jaded,
Even more so than before, so, here’s the statement.
Like a disease, I maintain a deadly anger,
Just to appease the needs of basically strangers.
And when I can't breathe, they blame me for the strangulation,
And heave heaps of painstaking sensations
Upon me. And all I do is remain complacent, so they
Don't see the side of me I'm containing.
For now I'm safe from the day they find me hanging in the basement.
I need to save myself before it's too late to reclaim it.
I just hope these words are enough to make me complacent.
Embracing all evil things that bring me to the brink of insanity,
I’ll compose the fable, as much as I can purvey it.

Gravity seems to cease in mid air,
Time began to rewind like the VHS tapes we used to peruse.
Lost to the hopelessness of remembering all that was spoken,
Still trying to grasp what I was destined to lose,
Hungry for that which will fill the emptiness,
Clandestine decisions create all the rules.
A black hole type of control,
I went maniacal and shortly afterward became betrothed; enthroned though alone.
The bigger picture will soon unfold,
That night on the country road,
Driving the whip-it was an evening so cold.
Fairy Tales told in the fool's forest sparked
Demons perverse and sordid.
Fight or flight was being sorted,
The plight was horrid, closely courted,
Shield and sword defended horror.
Pretend to mend the chip on your shoulder,
Put up those walls around your border.
In short, the more you fake your disposition,
The closer your back gets to the corner.
Tire tracks in the grass led to the tree line,
Screams transcended smoke and steel,
Like hot steam rising from a forsaken teapot.
I wish facts weren't so ossified,
Because the force behind discourse and pride
Is hacked, controlled, and lost to time.
But truth remains in purest rhyme.

This temple of sacrifice feeds sorrow aplenty,
To nurture its agonizing corruption.
It envelops your mind,
Breeds conformity, and peril unfolds.
The hourglass is broken, the sand was lost to conformity,
Becoming nothing more than a speck of dust in the rubble
On a sidewalk that leads the fool to paradise.
There he dwells with hopelessness,
Still waiting for the answer that he didn't hear.
The chilling sound of crushing metal was quite loud when the car radio shut off.

Constantly averting controversy,
Hurting from unnerving problems.
Not the worst thing I've unearthed inside,
The birth of mind-disturbing strife attacks my life, so I
Turn the knife and end the plight, cause
That's the kind of fright that strikes the right delight I see in sight.
In darkest night, sin harkens.
Vibrant demons mark their silent dealings with violence.
Screaming stops my lungs, no breathing,
Retreating feelings try to stop the gun from ringing,
But the voice inside my head that's pleading
Remains important and so appeasing.
Like a fiend I resort to that deemed purport,
A pristine contortion of me and distortion,
A means for war, hence demons worsen.  
Cursed, I've seen adverse *******.
Burned, at least the urn was worth it.
Dreams are but a sea of urges,
Waves of hurt; a ****** circus.
Earth was keen to be so perfect,
But dirt, it seems, reversed its purpose,
Purged of peace by scheming serpents.
Words convene to verse excursions
Terse, obscene, and birth diversion.
Learn to breathe when yearn disperses,
Purely seek to preserve incursion.
When earnest deeds immerse subservience,  
Evil creeds are sure to surface,
But thoughts serene will soothe the burdens.
Heaps of greed control these words,  
Though, predisposed in certain versions.
Weeds they grow in fields of ferns, and,
No one seems to know the urgence.
Flowing streams bring treacherous currents,
Twists and turns that reap insurgence.
Since discernment keeps deterrents,
Court the beast with immense observance,
Or disease will curse life's brief occurrence.
Treat the deepest ravine of courage
With leniency so peace emerges.
Dreams are but a grieving circus,
That creep beneath your bleeding surface,
Seizing leagues of zealous verbiage,
Leaving hurt to skirt loves purpose, return concernment;
Submerge the cures for feeling worthless.