StruggleWhy is my heart so filled with sin?Why must I struggle with this filth within.Save me Lord from myselfAnd show me how to love.
Sleep TightIt's a bright night.I might write about:Thoughts of a fight!Then a flight from spite...Don't bite.. You're too uptight.But don't delight in your plight.It's not right to skite.What a sorry sight.Gotta reach quite a height.I'm not quite uprightOn this bright night.Sleep tight.Sorry sight.
FatigueI have had enough ofThis bitter drink.Too tired to think.
Sinful WorldA broken man, shattered by his lover.Fallen tears splash in the gutter.I am sickened by this sinful world.Why do people have to hurt one another?
Another Day - Another NightWhy do I sit at the computer all dayWhiling weary hours away?I think the nights must know me well,Hoping for something to cheer my soulI fear the sleep that steals my timeAnd while away another day.
The SpectatorFrustration finds itself in you.And if you weren\'t such a favoured friend,I may have never bothered.But since your friendship means so muchI will throw myself into the depths of despair,And leave with down-turned face,The notion of a friend behind,Who shared my weekends kickingA ball around a park.I hope that we will long remain friends,And with that hope I lift myself from the depths,To enjoy your company as you freely give it,And set my sights on the game.
Butterflies of Your LoveA torrent of soft wings floodover my closed eyes,as I see myself from the outside,dreaming of you.Butterflies (a million shades of white)caress my faceand flow around melikeyour love.
Silence haikuano hito desu.shizuka ni narimasu.utsukushii desune.
I drownI too fight against the tide.As I am pulled backand forwardI hopeThis torment makes meWiser not weaker.And as we pass the breakersI find it ever more difficultto swim ashore.I feel guilt, like a weight,pulling me underAs I drown in your emocean.
It's not the endI have months to see him.He's disappeared.But this is not the end,It's not good,neither it's sad.
october. in the summer weran thoughfields of sunflowers andcigarette butts. we'd laughat the rustykids that played on oldradiators, cry because we were neverone of thegods."baby, there's us and there'sthem and idon't ever want to be one ofthem", you said to meas you threw a bottle out the window ofmy car. it hit the theground and i drove. i alwaysdrove, but i alwayswanted to be under the carinstead (but youknew that bythen).now you're lost ina notebook. i put you there becausei wanted to rememberthe best parts of you but nowall i can see is howyou left me here in the too-sunnyafternoon, full ofsuicidal thoughts anddepressive indentations. you went up tothe great lakes and istayed in hell.hope that it's stillsunny inSeattle, because it's stillpouring downhere.
boys dont cryand the waythat your handholds onto minefeels like the noose around my neck,i'm trying to hang myselfoff yourmarionettes.no - i'm not dead yet.but your thoughtsare bulletsand your words are gunsand when they shoot me in the headyou cure it with a band aidbecause you don't havea medical degree yet.your kisses have left meblack and bluewhile i still usethe mug you gave meas an ash tray.and i'm holding onto the lip stick stainson the dresserwearing them around my neckto hide how you tookmy breath away.
envelopes under the bed, loneliness stand for dead(the crevices in the floor remind me of his smile.)i.when it's 2 AMin the morningand i'm sneaking back insideafter a long night of drinking cherry wineand reading sandman comicsunder your garagei try to become a featherbut the floor creaks anyways.(the helium filling my brother's birthday balloons remind me of his hands.)ii.my mom doesn't really approveof me sucking the air out ofaluminum balloons.but i like the waymy voice won't soundmine.it makes me feela little lesslike me.(his lips were the closet light at the new year's party.)iii.we were playingspin the bottlewith an empty heineken.i'm not much intothe weed scene.but that nighti reached the cloudsand when the spinnerlanded on meyou knew we'dbe doing pirouetteswith something other than our tongues.the closet was smalland smelled like soap.but the waythe lights flickeredcatching uslike honeycomb -tasted a lot betterthan the hangoverin the morning.(umbrellas felt a lot like his eyes.)iv.
brutal honestyHave you described y o u r s e l f to the thousands -Hesitant, but completely honest? W h o I think I amand what I s o u n d like are t w o different things.S T O P and think for a second and say,who are y o u, are you happy with whatyou d e c l a r e yourself to be? W o r d s -you t h i n k they describe w h o you are;but are they enough?Be h o n e s t.are you w h oyou want to be?O R are y o u,j u s t y o u ?False declarations lead to malicious truths that w o u n d.It burns - hurts like a k n i f e to the flesh, but you knowin the end h o n e s t y will feel like a numbing narcoticthat eases the a c h e and lets the gash become
Teenagers in a Wasteland. I've decided to cake the shadows under my eyes with contempt, filled to the rim of my eyelids. My armor is the moon stone earrings I slide into my earlobes and the one cuff, cause' I'm not that much of a rebel.Remembering that when I was little I used to wear two color socks, always.The left always came first.And in a sea of mindless faces that drift like puppets on broken strings I see them.We have called them poets, rebels without a cause, misfits.With heads up high and the darkest murder red tainting their lips.Forward, they strive. Constellations of dried tears on their cheeks, but those smiles, like the stream of light on a rainy day. Or for some, the starch lighting of desert summer storms, the heat palpitating from their body. Ridiculed to no end, they strive in humiliation and eat their regrets for breakfast. Downing them with their calming pills. May it be a cigarette, stow-ay on their lips, or a
...RealidadesÁngeles y RealidadesLas siluetas de los ángeles bailaban en la niebla,y aquellos niños reían entre esmeros, entre sueños,los miraban, los llamaban, corrían, corrían tras ellos,saltaban, jugaban, perseguían su alegría, vivían.En la lejanía, el fuego se alzaba y las cenizas regían,las cenizas de las letras llevadas por el viento.Crecían, tan de repente, se abrazaban, sonreían,dormían bajo el parpadeo de las luciérnagas,desnudos, en paz, entre flamas y formas,la pasión moría en el suspiro de la inocencia.Tan oscuras las sombras dibujadas en la distancia,las dudas, el porqué de no poder alcanzarlas.¿Por qué? Están tan cerca, ahí al frente,entre danzas confusas, en silencio, en negro.¡No! Ella gritaba, puedo verlos, aunque lejos,Él decía: solo son nuestras sombras, fue así siempre.Entre lágrimas, entre sus sombras y las del
The ring of fireAs you dance,you can hear it cracklingall that life,that beautiful force of natureThere are no rules here,nothing to loseLife is freeand so are youdon't try to fix whats not brokenjust live with what you arejust dance, in the ring of fire
PumpkinsWatching the playful characters,run up and down the spooky streets.Laughing,while running from house to house.Searching for candy;they always stop to look at us.They smile at us,for I bring joy this time of year.Lighting up the night,we add spark to the haunted house.The horseman's head,with a scary Jack O' Lanterns face.Our spices fill the air,with your lattesand pies.People travel farand wide.To come pick us,even celebrating that.With the corn fields,and apple cider.The leaves even change,to orange.Our seeds can be roasted,with oiland garlic salt.Pastries and pancakes,we are the main ingredient.For everyone loves us,around this time of year.They decorate us,bake us,draw us,smash us,pick us,and replant us.Because even when Halloween is over,we still come back next year.
To my friendShe's alway's there when I am sad,In times of need when things are bad.She smiles with me when I am glad andTempers me when I am mad.Ever gentle; sheRemains - the best friend I have ever had.