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....