The illusion some protray just to all be the same and want the same

  Subliminals, the media, and soical sites..
  
No one wants to be the same and treated different from others
  
So why portray this illusion
  
Be different, be who you are, display your imagine and inner feelings
  
Be happy with who you are..
  
The illusion..that's what they want you to protray!

An ashtray full of buts smoked away by conversations of the past.
I'll show you open wounds that can't be healed,
If you tell me secrets that, til then, they had last.
Hang up those shoes with holes of adventure,
on the subsiquencial line to nothingness.
It's not as if we'll spawn again,
you've already left me to forget,
but you can not pretend that none of this was worth anything,
that you wouldn't come back if it hadn't gone to ****.
You can't just blame me for the things that you did!
Untied laces,
Missing pieces,
empty bowls and missing lighters.
unforgotten memories eating at me,
the person i was taunting the person I've become.
I've always heard the weak pull down the strong.
these inevitably destructive visions,
unfinished cigarettes,
half empty bottles flat in the morning,
stolen clothing and broken glass.
I doubt whatever this seems to be,
the feeling that hits me from the past,
a confused, somehow nostalgic me.
Yet, everything is better now,
no one to be harmed by and no one to soak up disrespect from,
only a perfect protray of everything I lacked before,
and this.. this is what I've been in need of,
a reliability that I love and they may love me in return.

I think too much on the outskirts of life,
never in tune with the waves and how they
sway back and forth like they're making a point
to give you something you are never capable of returning-
it makes me think the ocean has a sense of empathy
and a sense of humor that we will never understand.
I will never understand the way life blanks me out
the way boxes are made around our souls
and the way minds have the ability to think
way too many times a second which leaves me
empty-
not being able to picture the words I want to formulate
not being able to grip my sanity around the edges
of the skyline long enough to see the sunset-
these things are all optional
mandatory was never in my nature
and my stature has always been tall
which is why I stand in cities and see my own reflection in them.
The destruction and peace and corruption
living inside these streets of myself
but everything you need is capable to be found somehow.
Nothing is ever black and white-
which is why I see others in every rainbow
because everyone is flamboyant at best.
When the light hits their eye just right
and I see a sparkle of life in another-
I'm always reading others.
Spending time learning their pages
so I can write a synopsis out of their smile someday.
I am a writer, and on my best days a poet.
But most of the time these words are just a dishonest
depiction of what I'm feeling inside-
the things I don't really have the guts to say.
Every time I put my fingers to these keys
it's just a shade lighter of the stream of conscious
that likes to paint dark pictures in my mind.
Everything is subjective at best.
The fingers I use to touch these keys
and write these words are just machine
and I am the one holding the controls
until I lose control again
and I'm back searching for the consistency
I've never really had.
Because life doesn't tell you it's plans-
It comes to your house at 1am
and doesn't leave
not until you're hallucinating from exhaustion.
It sends you a 4am "you up" text
and expects *** after the first date.
It never asks how you're feeling
so you just have to wonder if it really gives a ****.
But life doesn't ******* give a ****-
it takes your words as a disservice
and makes promises it knows it can't keep.
I am a promise never kept-
always fleeting, always changing
mind never consistent enough for normalcy
privilege was never in my human nature
and eggshells have always been the shoes
I wear upon my feet
so I try my best on most days not to crack them-
not to worsen the shards that peg my soles.
I am wandering
constantly fleeting from the feelings
I never want to admit are there.
They are there-
somewhere in a place I haven't been in a while
where cob webs collect and the dust settles-
I have made a mess out of what remains
there is no consolation for me
just a collection of art most people don't understand
with inflection and tone that protray my words
in a way to which I hope people with grasp onto
I'm living for others-
to write the words they do not have the guts to say
to pin down the insecurities they bottle up
to let the elephant in the room
put on the best ******* show it can-
I would like to be the savior of someone's sanity
as seeing as I cannot be my own.
I will flourish and grow someday
but in the meantime I will use my light
to feed others until they feel strong again.
Alone is the dark corner feeling
the pit of your stomach anxiety ridden emotion
so burn the desire to feel it down to the ground
smother it with your blanket ray of light
and watch what grows from the ashes.
I did.

The script were reading,
As we act out our lives.
As we read between the lines
When the curtain slowly opens
We act out our lies.
We cannot protray a hope,
From a wishing well.
I cannot  betray my feelings by show and tell.
I don't know what happened,
But the feelings gone.
I tried to get it back but it left me alone.
I can't take the lead,
In which I cannot see.
And I can know longer read,
What I don't feel.
Time cannot paint a portrait  of the way it use to be.
Please don't put on those sad eyes when you look at me.
But a play always ends,
As sad as it may be.
And the curtain always closes,
As it will,
For you and me.
I don't know what happened,
But the feelings gone.
I tried to get it back but it left me alone.

So it seems that the very things that seem to make me tick are like the secrets that keep me sick. The breeze is blowing but the tide is coming in quick. You think I give a **** if you heard my lighter click. I am a perfect **** up I am ****** up perfection What can I say in the mirror I do not recognize my own reflection. Then again upon further inspection I can almost spot the deception. Why oh why did I take my day to day for granted. I feel as if there is something shady going on that's down right underhanded here in this far a way land where I am now stranded a land that they say is enchanted.
These age old habits have pretty much grown to be quite automatic I am very much still active and very much still an addict and now I just have to have it. Heart full of snow head filled with static not to be so **** dramatic but everyday life has become so problematic is it not truly tragic. This God ****** so called drug abuse has me using any and every excuse it's just like a crutch I use while waiting for these demons to turn me loose. Why am I still pursuing something that I doubt that I ever find I know that I am a little bit outside my rabbit *** mind searching for my very grand design spitting out pieces of this broken luck of mine Just don't go and get **** all twisted up because I'm telling you that I still do not give a flying ****. We don't have that kind of luxe so out here in the lightning storm like a sitting duck attempting to get thunderstruck, that is until it's time to once again. Self destruct. Twinkle twinkle little stars so far a way that I wish I might I wish I may one day actually change my ways and end up with much brighter days I see the clearest when it is the darkest part of night I'm so far left that I will never get right. I don't see with my eyes I've been gifted with a different kind of sight. Hell no what would ever make you think that I'm ok I climb high to get myself higher than the trees that back and fourth sway so I don't have to hold these demons at bay I am **** sure not the person you seem to think I protray
The pain I feel inside I do hide I masked it like somehow I had gotten passed it. Perhaps I am a little overenthusiastic over this tale I'm trying to tell that is sounding rather fantastic. No brag no fact just fabricated fiction meant to entertain I find it difficult to try to explain just how I actually maintain. Every word I wrote is explicit and profane. I just do not feel right unless I am doing something wrong like staying up all night long staring off into nothing as I hit the **** blowing out thick clouds because I tend to smoke strong Instead of feeling alive I feel like I am pretty much dead. Decency I haven't a single shred. There's already been way too much blood shed did you happen to see in the distance eyes glowing blood red? When I storm like I am about to pour down rain can you see my eyes get cloudy the music and the beat rattles around in my skull quite loudly sometimes I can't help it I have to get rowdy but still I stand my ground proudly go ahead I have no a single doubt that if you keep ******* around you will find out that I am no where close to being a girl scout I just cannot seem to go that route I am a walking talking catastrophe a natural disaster and I keep on flying faster and faster while I go crazy the night sky echoing with laughter running from the things I once was after. Ask me no more questions and no lies will I sell these stories of different worlds that are somehow parallel tales to tell of nightmares and fairy tales right as I jump my *** off of this **** carousel now I bid the a fond fare the well as right back into my yesterday I fell. Crushed underneath the weight of the pending doom that keeps any ray of light from cutting though the gloom tainted light shining in the window brightly from the neon moon I'm all animated you know drawn out like a cartoon so don't assume that the toxic fumes aren't as colorful as a peacock's plume I challenge you to a duele at high noon. I am going to find a way out of here soon. These diseased minds really did some substantial damage and now I feel as if I am at some sort of disadvantage so like a sleeping savage I have no choice but to rise up and start reeking havoc ripping the space and time continuum just like fabric. I have gone way up into the stratosphere the best way that I know to just disappear. So hold close all you hold dear and try not to cry not one more tear.