Good Morning Heartache

Hush now for I cannot explain

what's to come of me next,

my future tries to sustain 

but it's just another reflex. 

To forget your face I try,

No heart to hold over me

But those spells I cry,

Like the wind I cannot see

those tears, but they dry

down my soul, they're heavy.

So I'll have to go and say goodbye

as these spells are my plenty. 

This moon above shines so bright 

but this light is not my fate,

For it's yours that my dark turns light

and so good morning heartache.

But how good morning when there's no night

and no night, just a revolver going around 

longing for that soft low whisper of sight 

for it's your love I want to surround. 

Your face haunting through my picture house 

these dreams are but memories and I am guilty,

of loving you still but unlovable thereabouts,

is the thrill I seek for every days a mystery,

to forget your face every day I try.

Losing control I'm lost in the darkness

but seeing the light again it's useless,

for it's you, I sigh.

Enveloping the black.

Enveloping the black. 

How does one have such masochistic thoughts,

But yet go on day by day happily?

Some days I feel too numb and get lost

in this light that consumes me entirely.

That light it's turning with my darkness,

Darkness that deserves death and despair,

But like a pharaoh fights for his carcass

Must go on needlessly numbing this nightmare.

My footsteps fall in the rain that secures me

for it is but a disguise for the pain,

That envelops all around but I am in safety. 

As tears frequently fall I must abstain,

For if I selfishly but desperately give in, it wins.

But when this wind doesn't blow 

Forgiveness for my future begins,

Or do I dwell too far below. 

Somebody please bring me down from this ledge,

Looming over me to let go.

I can't, crawling closer chasing that edge

that's extending and encasing below,

Foreshadowing futuristic funerals I can't see,

I won't see, willing myself to go back

and keep going, this game so generously 

grows dangerous, desperately to black.

For when I wake from this sadistic slumber

I am sick of this forgotten forsaken feeling,

Needless to say I am just another number.

My final hours to spend reminiscing, revealing 

before the black blatantly consumes,

Constricts cutting off my light.

For I cannot breathe no one assumes

being in the light but still savagely black, I fight.

A Prisoner's Embrace

A Prisoner's Embrace

 

 

Remarkable, this time it travels translucent, trickling down to no where,

treacherous territory to the ground below.

But where do we go from here for I cannot know, I cannot be near and I cannot fight because I cannot bare that I want to be there.

I'd give every last breath, every ounce of my weight to see those eyes light up amongst many things knowing that I caused such a catastrophe; it's so cliché.

But yet I long for this cliché, it gives me purpose so proudly living my day by day engaging in high demanding delusions, drawing on your energy that I so desperately need to stay a float and to focus  to what will come of me next.

Tis not known in true disbelief for it is not shown that one cannot handle this exclusive elusive encounter, breaching imparable deposition.

I cannot bare it.

Nor cannot handle the way in which your being controls me, consumes my every action or next move to the way in which I live on this earth.

Devastating I cannot face your disposition.

But I need it, for I know no other way than the constant battle inside of me.

Decisions, oh so in regards, devastating like free falling, but not by my will.

As if pushed to face my demons head on, face first, free falling to the dramatic realization, disgraceful dictating, so masochistic of my mass destruction.

Empowering I live for the moment to quit this battle and go on not living for your pieces, your possessiveness that controls my heart, my mind, my actions without a second thought.

I needst to withstand your viciousness, knowing that I cannot be yours.

Please I beg of your heart, release me for I am not yours to keep, I am not your prisoner that I cant help but feel so captively contained to knowing and breathing only you.

And so cant you see I am but a lonely prisoner held against my will, you have this spell that I cannot break, you embrace me entirely enveloping my every next move.

I needst break free, though I fear for my future and what's to come of me next, if I can because you are my drug.

My sadistic drug.

I know nothing else even though I hate this feeling, I cant fathom never enjoying it again.

For that I dim this dark disastrous light and let this feeling of disparity consume and embrace me entirely, all of me, completely. 



No Choice

No Choice

 

There I sit, sitting in a state of hesitation and so I wait, waiting for that day, that moment, so precise and controlled that not from whom thy know but from whom thou can see thee fit formally for thine's forgiveness.

It's evolutionary falling so into place with the past making way with precision to the present determining one's future so quickly, unnerving.

It's ravishing like a river flowing from the peeking point so passionately passing over walls falling possessively, mastering and taking anything in it's wake, just absorbing that not of which can be seen, but that which only listens and moves with the rushing, so determined.

Call it crazy, but don't you see thy's path is set already.

No matter the actions, the people we meet you think thy has a choice, for a rushing waterfall does not choose, it just flows and the events occur natural disruptions to the flow changes thy's course and the water adapts to a new bend in the river.

It does not choose for it can't.

It just flows flawlessly, uncontrollably, so predictable.

Quiet Night in Time

Quiet Night in Time

 

This rose stained for time has stopped and to this I know not enough for time, standing still to this silent night.

These tears that of which escape me draw paths smoothly staining down and deeply I fall victim to this still silent night.

These petals a little crisp as the cold creeps as I await to cascade into a sleep of condescending dreams.

This stem supposedly straight, unexpectedly almost uncontrollable wilts wonderfully to the endless quiet on this never-ending night.

These leaves crinkling and crumbling as if tossing and turning in a bed of shattering roses trying to redeem what's left of this not quite satisfying masochistic evening.

These thorns grow more as time continues sharply, enlightened my thorns are sadistic depending and thriving on that which is inflicted.

Intuition has always intrigued my attention that of which has always captured those fallen petals from that of the beloved bleeding rose.

I know not of what I do, but that of what I am and what I am is the bleeding part of a purple rose. And when time is isolated that part of me which bleeds stops significantly consuming me entirely.

And this night encloses me completely encasing my shattered petals encompassing my fragile stem and enveloping those leaves ever so carefully.

The purple that once was following a flowing path along those venomous veins throughout the stem, the leaves, and of course the purplest petals has stopped because as I sit on this quiet night in time, the purple shall not bleed the rose.

And so as I'm consumed completely my mind is finally at peace and so drooping, my eyelids slowly shut and my restless night that was never ending finally comes to that end letting time that stood so still suppress and sinfully resuming, the purple slowly starts to flow.



Just Met

Just Met

 

As everyone looks I'm so caught starring,

but I can't remove my eyes

I'm so not caring

And then his eyes finally meet mine.

It seemed like forever with every moment passing,

we were unchanged.

I'm glad to know true love exists,

but what would you call this,

if our eyes just met.

For all I know there was this gravitational pull,

connecting the two of us

in this crowded room that felt too full.

I've never felt so speechless and strained for air,

my hearing enlightened me to hear a pin dropping

and blocking out all the rest,

my vision was fixated on this stranger

who I seemed like I knew forever,

my throat felt dry and my heart throbbed in my chest,

my arms felt heavy to all the rest.

And yet our eyes were locked with such a force.

Too Late

Too Late

 

So there's this boy next door who always has a sad face on.

His mom's always yelling and he hates the fact his dad is gone.

There's always bruises on his cheeks and around his eyes,

he wears a ball cap.

I know what he's hiding, I know how he feels,

I've been there to know what he lacks.

Every morning he walks with this girl

and they never talk, they enjoy the silence, together.

 

So he gets up in the morning

and he goes to school to learn

but he can't concentrate from the yelling

and the teacher looks concerned.

So when will his day come,

when he'll move on and won't feel so numb.

 

She can't get up the guts to talk to him

and he's just so blind to see.

They're speechless, both you and me.

One day after he walked me home,

his face didn't leave my mind,

I decided to go see him,

so he wouldn't have to face her alone.

 

So he gets up in the morning

and he goes to school to learn

but he can't concentrate from the yelling

and the teacher looks concerned.

So when will his day come ,

when he'll move on and won't feel so numb.

 

As I walked onto the porch, I saw her on the floor.

My heart raced in my chest,

and I flew through the door.

And at that moment

I was too late,

I saw him lying so helpless there

making his way through heavens gate.

So why is life so unfair,

that evening I was too late,

we were too late.