step 1: pull your hair out with clenched fists

its very easy to lose your mind.

the needles behind the eyes
the knives in the chest
this happens every. time.
keep on roaming.....
keep on roaming....
to a place where i can't reach but the picture looks normal
its empty bottle nights and cold nothing mornings
the dirt is pressed too deep in your skin
i cant keep feeding these demons
don't know if you call demons friends but thats what i have come to
death sits at the head of the table drinking quietly
just like a good guest should....
i may not wake up each day anymore
wishing for death to say good morning
but i do still miss him/her
in everyday conversation.
its not that these tired eyes hide years of misery
its that nobody can read them
its that nobody misses them
its that they just rot and rot and stare out unto nothing
and nothing stares back.

those lungs may not hold air at the right time
heart not pump enough life
hands not hang on just one moment more
and a lighter soul may leave when the sun no longer shines
these smiles could be washed away with these hard times
but these steps will march forward
.follow.forward.

sleep and death look alike

its because we are all doomed to die that we can appreciate the small moments-
the smells and the sun, the rain and the water, nature etc.....
so what happens when you can't appreciate all of those small moments?
busy negotiating with angels and devils to lend me some advice
the brim of these glasses brand logged hours of futile attempts into the mush they sit on
too bad monsters can't feel too much of a good thing
thought i was always looking for love, i should have just looked in the mirror
always was better being alone....
always looking for friendship but always find themselves company at night
i dont have the liver for this kind of lifestyle....
the flame of inspiration wavering in the night wind
to tell the truth i miss the smell of her skin
i always got lost in eyes and smiles, yet never a two way street
come with a grin and leave grim
standard entry and exit protocol
i am the bottle on its side, spilling onto the floor....

i'm in love with emma watson

i hate the smell of my own skin.
wanting to just get lost in drugs or sleep- whichever promises sound sweeter to me
not in a hateful way
just in a hopeful way
want to live in movie scenes and catchy hooks in the best songs
explode out of some small room in some small house in some small town in some small state
- where none of it matters or makes sense
i'm just dying on a day to day basis with no cure
would kill all the innocent just to be able to explode into your mind
feel like obsessing just to be able to get back to obsessing
i need new faces
new smiles
new memories
because the same faces and old smiles and uninteresting memories don't mean shit to me
"i could use somebody".........
i want to make the sounds that make my heart beat as hard as it does right now listening to my nightly soundtracks
this is what desperation looks like.
feels like.
smells like.
i really just want to be noticed by everyone in the world. this is my admitting i am a narcissist and meaning it
-hey, first step is admitting the problem right?
none of it made sense, but then again it never did.
still searching for the answers to questions i can't form into words.
help me.

mirror mirror on the wall

its awkward when you realize someone deleted you out of their life.
kinda ironic because i do it all the time.
but when you realize that it was done, and you are pretty sure you did nothing wrong....
again, kinda ironic because i do it all the time.
and you think and think and wonder where you went wrong and fucked whatever up...
its getting less ironic because i do it all the time.
until you realize that you are just as shitty as they all said you are and you feel better.
because its really not ironic, its just you being you.

broken backs and beaten souls

its old fingerprints on warm glasses (half full/ half empty)
the pounding ache of the same morning sun (each day)
its the same look you get from the clock every afternoon
just another drive home
look up at the sky for once and cry out "bring me home"
i'll start running now.
its wishful dead eyes that stay glued to moving pictures of far away places that promise better everythings
borrowed and used breaths that lift these legs and arms everyday
running on reserve
what happens when it runs out......
just realizing now that all the punches i threw were at myself
falling in love was really just falling out of touch
falling for you was just falling to the bottom
this view of watching you leave is too familiar
and happens way too often.
"you can't save them all"
knowing she thinks of me less and less.....
been roaming around far too long
forgot what i was searching for
rather roam with one hand holding yours
trace the outlines of your voice but really- i don't know the first thing about this

broken hearted hoover fixer upper guy

all these needles pick and pick
dig dig dig
searching for an open valve
all these knives pick and pick
dig dig dig
searching for an open smile
empty, everything feels empty. the empty space next to me that seems to follow me everywhere.
its hard when you're a monster.
letting myself look and punch the mirror for the first time in quite some time.
crossed the finish line- but whats after that?
haven't felt this heart beat in years.
don't know if thats good or bad.....
haven't felt warmth in years.
the awkward touch of care
the feigned and forced smiles and laughs
oh wait......
someday. someday. someday the monster will get a break.
dont know the form of it, but the monster will feel good someday. absolute good. true smiles.
allowed to bask in the sun, allowed to feel that warm breeze that uplifts happy memories.
i was born to be the bad example of what to not follow or be.
(we all have a purpose.)
finally found the switch to turn it all off.
don't know if thats good or bad.......
some things just can't be fixed.
threw a line to death today, just to catch up on old times.
"remember back in the day?"
even though it may not know how to beat in happiness, this heart still thuds a beat to a sad song.
it just feels too normal to be sad...
realizing now that i never lost love because you can't lose what you didn't have.
realizing now that i never missed love because you can't miss something you never had to begin with.
too many cliches make up my smile.
i'm pretty sure this all still only makes sense to this head.
discovering from the ruins and wreckage that its not a broken heart that stems all the problems
it was just not knowing any better.
some people were meant to be the stepping foot rest for others.
i can beg and plead and bargain and desperately give this dirty trashed heart and crooked smile but it never really makes it difficult to leave.
"please don't go"
one day........one day.......the numbers will eventually turn the other way
this is how miracles happen.
ever wonder what would happen if the sun shone brighter?
pierced and cut through the rain that constantly pours on this head
rain rain go away
the cold days
the quiet days
the lonely days
never found an escape to it all
left broken with cheap skylines
its ok. but not really.
just leave.
i would.
i don't blame you.