The absence of wonder in your eyes and sincerity from your mouth monotonously reassures the credibility of my contempt for casual communication with characterized ?individuals?
         My own iris has been stretched by my eager to expand awareness.

         I normally pity someone like this,
But your arrogant certainty shook my shadow to consciousness.
It told me to cast you naked into the glare,
         Maybe snip your eyelids out of spite. Its fortunate for you that I am not a slave to the fury.

No constructive change would come of my martyrdom.

If the man you once were saw ahead of time where he would be today,
I know that he wouldn't have allowed this day to come.
A picture of your face would be a reminder in his mind's eye of who he could become if he were to wander away from the light.
I miss that man.
I miss the hope that came with the idea of God.
Its much the same, really.
But the effects of your failure are much more devastating than the let down I feel from the higher father.
And I can still see you with my own eyes.

I've been everywhere with your image,
Imagined experiences you'd never willingly share with me.
Its okay,
What's authentic may not be to my liking anyway.
I love the personalities I create.
To date, they've never bit the hand.

I’ve always been intimidated
By the man in the mirror
With his cocky face and his self-assured grin

I’ve always been imitated
By the man in the mirror
With his worried sigh and his eyes full of doubt

Yes, both of you keep your mouths shut.
You've developed enough hatred in me toward you.
Luckily, years of intense anger have made these moments short-winded,
Transitioning quickly into an outlet.
Yes, productivity follows
In the form of art.

I blame it on the easy things,
my parents,
past relationships,
black holes.
But it's always been me
that's been in
control.
Deciding to stop
when they told me to go.
Screaming out "yes"
as I was choking down "no."
Pressing the pedal
when I should've gone slow.
My actions and my words
never quite match up.
Saying I'm healthy
as smoke fills my lungs.
Calling myself an atheist
but telling it to God.
Sitting here wondering,
When will I stop?
I can blame it on the easy things,
stimulants,
a chemical imbalance,
the doctors white coat.
But it's always been me
that's been in
control.