HopeWhat would you do,
When it's all over?
Would you stand up,
Straight as mountains old,
And shrug your shoulders?
It might be;
Your final end.
But would it be worse,
If you had waited?
How could you have known,
This was it?
Would you have just stood,
Back like rivers bold,
And watched it's demise?
Like pariah zealots above,
Gazing down from,
Black flower skies?
Why should you,
Have thought to reconsider?
Would you have just given up,
And let minute things,
Slip by and slide away?
Was it to be your own idiocy?
Or breath of ignorance,
Destroying the fragile dark,
From the mighty light;
This very day?
What was it that made you,
Stay here to breathe?
Was it that inky niggle in,
The chaos of your mind,
And that instinct within,
To just carry on and cope?
Most would declare that,
You are an angel,
But some say without
Courage: there is only hope.
The Girl In A TeardropThere sits a shattered girl,
Imprisoned in her tormented tears,
Wishing she had not wasted her youthful years,
Looking for her one true pearl,
Who never showed his flawless face.
There weeps a sad girl,
Reflecting her mask in the mirror,
Seeing her self becoming thinner and thinner,
And now she sees the echoes of her age,
Guiding her back from her heartbroken mind.
There breathes a sorrowful girl,
Staring out of her sweet nectar sobs,
Hoping to escape from her self-infliction,
But what is out there for her to find?
Except a dawn of despair and dereliction.
ForgetYou remember nothing,
How my love for you in the end,
Was taken apart in front of my eyes.
I thought you were once my friend,
But now I understand the truth in your lies.
You think of me with such spite,
Why are you the one to tell me,
What is wrong and what is right?
Your passion was blind but I made you see,
I remember everything.
Doctor DeathDoctor Death will see you now,
"What is it that pains you?" asks he,
"I have a burning in my breast," says I,
"Looks like a coronary in your chest," says he,
And his cure travels down into my veins of a tree.
Doctor Death will hear you soon,
"What are your ailments?" asks he,
"I suffer from an amorous affliction," says I,
"Seems to me your an addict of addiction," says he,
And his prescription cuts out all that could be free.
Doctor Death will meet you here,
"What is this illness of yours?" asks he,
"I'm dying from a disease," says I,
"This emancipation I'll tame with ease," says he,
And his remedy calmed my rage like the turning of a key.
The Tears Of The EarthWhat would you do if the world stopped,
Spinning and swirling to a systematic halt?
Would you climb to a mountain majestically high,
Raise your eyes up to the finite electric universe,
And reflect on the redemption of a death so diverse.
Veins line the black with faults of blood,
And I can hear the crazed howls of horror,
Erupt up from the centre of an empty Earth.
Screams swell to scorch the skies above me,
Where sunlight fades to freeze the faces I see.
What would you do if the world finished,
Falling and frolicking to a fatalistic end?
Would you swim to a sea seductively low,
Embrace your demise in that endless dark space,
And regret on the reclamation of a pitiless place.
Bones cover the gray with scars of greed,
And I can hear the fazed sighs of sorrow,
Burst forth from the core of an eccentric Earth.
Calls condemn to curse the cries around me,
Where twilight dies to damn the dead I free.
The Writer's One Second SparkSense no darkness when I am wide awake and on fire,
I could do this for another second, another minute, another hour.
Oh what creativity in this cortex that blossoms like the simple flower,
How these intricate rhymes of innocent words give my heart,
Such a pounding energy of pride to recycle my writer's power.
Sense no blindness when I am wide awake and full of desire,
I could do this for another day, another week, another year.
Oh what brilliance in this brain that emotes like the complex tear,
How those delicate rhythms of distant beats give my soul,
Such a resounding spark of arrogance to rekindle my writer's fear.
UntitledI smile when it rains,
It drives away the black passion and the scarlet pain,
Tearing up my white flesh again and again.
It's the only thing that keeps me sane,
When everything else is driving me insane.
I smile when it snows,
It covers up these ruby scars that will forever show,
Hiding silver marks on golden skin I know.
It's an antidote to this shade misery that flows,
When everyone tries to deduce my glow.
White LightStars shatter into dust and echoes of light,
And for a second: everything in that ether is quiet.
I wish I was there to witness such a splendid sight,
Where once only the blackest of dark voids resided,
Wakes a cacophony of clarity from it's internal riot.
space shivers from ice and flares of light,
And for a second: everywhere in that emptiness is still.
I hope one day that I could touch it with daring delight,
While only to have my eyes of raw ignorance blinded,
Partakes a symphony of sobriety from it's external will.
ExistenceMy eyes ache and my heart doth break,
When I stare in the mirrors of my mind.
Chaos wanders those corridors of my own confusion,
Is this life I do tread with eager breath,
Or more an ill existence of my own illusion?
My lungs hurt and my bones doth creak,
When I drown in the waters of my own wakefulness.
Lunacy corrupts those lines of my own laceration,
Is this life that I do continue with futile steps,
Or more a banal curiosity of my own fascination?
My nerves burst and my veins doth leak,
When I sleep in the darkness of my dreams.
Delirium poisons those doors of my own dimension,
Is this life that I do murder with lost cause,
Or more a vacant memory of my own invention?
Two Sides to Every StoryCan't believe you're not here. | Can't you see I'm still here?
I thought you were my fear. | Being silent is my fear.
Now I just want you back. | I'll always have your back.
I have to keep this on track. | I will keep it on track.
I'm sorry that I hurt you. | I'm sorry that I hurt you.
I'm not sure what to do. | I wonder what you'll do.
A slight buzz is what I feel. | My thoughts you barely feel.
I wonder if you're real. | I promise that I'm real.
I'll never forget the pain. | I'm sorry for all the pain.
You drove me so insane. | You're not really insane.
What if it happens again? | It will never happen again.
How can I call you my friend? | You are my closest friend.
I just want to be happy. | I want you to be happy.
Can I still be me? | Can you accept me?
The Riddle and The RoseThe Riddle and The Rose
An old woman sits with flowers in her hand
Tattered and withered are they
Roses once red, like her now greying hair
Stop & listen, you'll hear her say
"Give me a penny, I'll ask you a riddle
Ask you a riddle, will I
A small pearl of wisdom for every right answer,
So come on and give it a try"
A little girl, from out of the shadows steps forward,
With bright green eyes
She says to the woman, "your flowers are broken"
And then she begins to cry
Says the old woman "I'll ask you a riddle,
Ask you a riddle will I
Child, come closer, my voice is a whisper
I know you can hear, if you try"
The small girl gazed at the buildings around her,
So colourless, where is the life?
She looked at the woman, who lives by a riddle,
And she thinks of the stars at night
"I'll ask you a riddle, the woman says softly,
Ask you a riddle shall I
For these words are wisdom, as old as the sky
So come, come and listen my child"
The jigsaw boyThe girl sits on the dusty floor,
Surrounded by odds and ends.
Holding the jigsaw boy, trying to put him together again.
He fell from a very great height,
She sobs for him every night.
None of the pieces fit.
He looks up at her with empty eyes,
The colour of faded blue skies.
His skin is covered in scars and cracks,
Maps that lead her to nowhere
Round and round in circles, like a merry go round.
His soul is scattered around her like glass,
She cuts herself trying to pick the pieces up.
She tries to be distant, she tries to be kind
But in her heart she knows she broke this boy
That lies in pieces at her feet.
She crushed his heart in the palm of her hand
And now she doesn’t know what to do.
She knows that she doesn’t have much time,
Before he falls over this ledge.
He builds these walls between them,
That she will have to climb.
Life has lost its colour and time has lost its grace.
Where his heart was is now an empty space,
Pain consumes his soul.
Food For The Ink
There isn't blood in my veins, there's ink.
The ink screams sometimes. It wants out, to be free and shown to the world the magnificent possibilities and the inner imagination of my mind.
I see things no one else can, possibilities and worlds nobody's ever even dreamed of.
The ink in my body screams for the world to know.
They must know the marvels. The thoughts in my head.
I see it... The possibilities.
There's so many possible outcomes of life and I review oh so many of them.
What if I went left? What if I said hello to that person?
What if a car came this way?
I see so many possibilities, its food for the ink.
Keep DreamingIn my dreams
I see you
the warmth and gentleness
of your embrace
In my dreams
it is my reality
You are always there
whenever I think of you
In my dreams
you are holding me tight
Keeping me safe
when I feel down
I keep on dreaming
wishing you were here
To me it is my reality
and you are fate to my life
I will always dream forever
Cause in my dreams
You are always there
loving and caring for me until the end
Cry of an ArtistThey tell me I’ll understand
when I’m older.
That I shouldn’t be an artist.
I want to be those crumpled papers
in the corner of my room,
and the late nights I stayed awake
blinking at the moon.
And even though I lack the supplies
and ideas are far away,
I feel artistic blood
running through my veins.
I’m that empty spray can
left in the shadows of the walls
where street art’s been made
but the name’s not there at all.
And I’m that lonely artist
who fears of sticking out
because all the art critics
feel the urge to not speak, but shout.
And I’m that girl standing by the window,
wanting those paints and brushes,
pencils and pens,
and the city that hushes
when my art makes its
gravityWhen I was a little girl in red rubber boots
I believed I would change the world
My mother blamed my grandma
who read to me every night in a rick-rockety chair of princesses and dragons, stars and magic
My father blamed my imagination
& too much television for a little girl who lived in the weeds and oak branches
They told me that no matter how high I stood off the ground
all things eventually fall back to where they belong
Gravity is the reason we are alive, they said
we are all made of the earth' s crumblings
"But what if I am made of clouds?"
& they laughed in the whimsical tone as parents love
Prove me wrong, they told me, exchanging glances
& I tumbled boulders down my shoulders, and floated an inch up to tommorrow
The girl in the pondIt was a warm summer night when I found her.
Her dress was white with yellow sunflowers,
and her auburn hair was spread out around her pale face.
It looked like an ever changing halo
moving gently in a soft breeze.
She had lost a shoe
Her deep, blue eyes stared into heaven
and the freckles of her skin drew constellations
against the pale background to mirror the stars above.
Fish gently nibbled at her fingers and nestled in her hair
paying no heed to her ruby lips which her last breath had left open
almost like an invitation.
I looked at her
I loved her...
Thinking it was the least I could do
now that she had been so carelessly abandoned.
It was my duty to remember her.
I took the memory of her and stuffed it away
for safe keeping
The rest was just a shell
now empty and soon decayed.
Then I left
leaving only the pond behind to swallow its secrets.
eggshells in my throatI am cradled,
rustling ribcage bursting
in feathered fragments
through still air,
and you ask what's wrong
but each breath is a triumph;
words would be a desperate freefall
I cannot fly--
I'm barely crawling.
I am embraced,
entwined in almost-whispers,
struggling, and I flinch away
from compassion; it would be kinder
just to leave.
I am caged,
my cries for help flutter in
wing-beat echoes from
larynx to lip
only to collide,
beaten and bruised,
with the towering walls
I'm Fine"Are you okay?"
No. I'm dying. I have to push myself to wake up in the morning, and when I finally do, I want to go back to sleep. Even my best dreams are becoming nightmares. I can't taste food, I can't stand the things I used to love. I'm breaking. I'm fading. I'm dying.
from your mirror.. with loveStand at me
Glare at me
Your hair at me.
your eyes like
daggers and spears.
I'm not cruel
Demons in the shadows
They'll find a way
To get you.
Beatings, swallowing you.
Scars, defining you.
You know you're weak.
You can't fight a bully
When the bully's inside of you.
So What Do I Do?If only I could read your mind
If only I could interpret you emotions
Understand what you're going through
See through your eyes
Hear through your ears
Feel through your heart
If only I knew how to help you
But I can't
And I don't
And it's killing me
So what do I do?
Music is my everything
Music is my everything
Music is my soul, my life
I listen intently, feeling
as calm as the oceans surface
Music is my friends, My family
its my lullaby, our loving song
I will die saving those people
who I regaurd close to in my life
Music saves me, never lets me go
I sing along, to unknown words
Bu the makes me feel real
Im not a dream, like a person
Music saves my soul, my life,
I live for my friends, my family,
they are my everything,
they are my life, my soul,
my headphoneless music,
I will protect them
with my own life.
Music is the soul,
I will listen intently,
singing along to unknown words
It Never HappenedHave you ever stood
In the rain
And let it pour
Upon your skin
It washing away
All of your pain
And all of your suffering
And cleansing your heart
And your mind
And creating you new
As if the past
And the troubles it contained
Picture perfectThey say a single picture can tell a thousand words
But none of those words can describe
At a DistanceAt a Distance
I keep myself far away
So that I may enjoy my Day
Ignoring men’s endless scars
So that I can go drink at the bars.
But why, isn’t isolation the bane
That will drive most insane?
Not for me, what do they care
If I go bald or pull out my hair?
At a distance I’ll stay so I’ll be at peace
I don’t want to mourn or be on someone’s emotional leash
Why? Simply because I’m human, why all the fuss?
You never cared about my work so I’m not going to cuss
Over you, him, her, not over any folk
So don’t lump me in the same bowl of yolk
As you people, didn’t you know?
That I’m not going to be a part of your show.
If that hurts you, then have fun with that.
Now whine and cry as I play with my cat