You don't get to do this.

My heart aches, feet cold.

This room was warm, I'm now freezing.

One phone call sent that chill down my spine.

I should have known that it was to good to be mine.

I should have known not to try.

I feel weak, spirit shattered.

Thrown into a dimension where nothing mattered.

Not a thing I could do, not a thing I could say.

Because what I do doesn't matter anyway.

I could try and win you back but there's no point I've lost.

I don't get it.

So cold with all these layers on.

It's like ice has covered my being.

No amount of warmth could ever bring me back.

But what should I do now?

Do I say go away?

Do I just leave them all behind?

Is it them that I define?

Or I who they define.

Do I try to fill the emptiness inside me again?

Do I devoid myself?

What do I do now?

Do I stop caring, should I stop being so kind?

It always ends up the same way.

I really am destined to be alone.

Just like my father,where are you?

From one problem to the next.

Every time i'm always had.

Why do you get to do this?

I don't understand, too nice, too mellow.

I wont ever be your man.

Chopping block

It's not that i haven't been able to nor have i lost my will to do what i love. It's that i haven't brought myself to do it. Simple, i can't stop thinking and i never really stop to think. :)

This side of me.

So much to take, how?:

There is so much I can do.

So much to think about.

Everybody but you.

Too much to drink about.

Too often to think.

What will happen, what will I do?

What could happen, what am I to you?

It's too late, its's always too late.

Every second I wait, every moment that passes me.

Too late.

The stop, the thought, the writers block, the chalk, pen to paper.

Will I ever date her?

Will it happen?

To leave these poems undone.

The stress always there yet, not the face of me it hide behinds.

No, the face of me is quite content.

Everything I do I normally don't question.

But really, should I ought to? for my own lesson?

Look at me lieing through my teeth.

Written a thousand poems, only one explains me.

But not what you think.

One can be a whole, a half is not one.

To make sense there isn't none.

That's the point, philosophy.

Is it really a part of me?

Do I really believe in this existential art I see?

This picture on the wall looking back at me.

Like a mirrior screaming, " Do you like what you see!?"

How often does this world always make it seem like your not cut out to be and unfit to see.

Well, its societies propriety.

It's hysterically, unbearably , it's heresy but wait.

Is this what I see to believe?

The icing so sweet?

When can I achieve?

Will I ever stop?

Will i ever eat too much?

Can I die?

Will this life let me survive?

But how?

After everything i've been through?

But how?

After all i've discovered, there is no you?

This "You" I speak of.

This " You" I idolize?

No, this time it's me.

I exist and you faded.

In with the new, that you created.

Are you happy now?

Does it make a difference?

If I stop being you will I be me?

And if I stop being me will I be you?

Stop.

Last words, im dreaming now.

Causes, I'm bleeding now.

Internal, external?

Your dead, am I?

But if I'm dead, are you?

What are the values?

What are our differences?

Why am I here?

Why did I or you ever come here?

Did I choose, or did you?

Are these my psychological views?

psych 101

I wrote this in philosophy today cause i was getting pretty angry at my psychology questions and the way they were worded...
Through results does an accusation really belong to be this long by adding more diverse words into a sentence which adding more syllables for you to use that is considered a great question by creating an extensive meaning that complicates what's asked to create a harder way of cognition that the embezzled answer must be 50/50 which is represented by, what, which, that, through, and by, that creates an unbelievable, astonishing question that becomes so ridiculous that if asked, the answer is the only thing that does not come to mind. explain ?
seriously..

Weary, I soar.

Weary, I have fallen many times but never have I not been able to get up. It is almost my birthday, yet I choose to let it pass as if it does not concern me. I am vulnerable and confused, much like anyone else my age. I jump to so many decisions; I just don’t know what I should do with my life. There are so many choices, so much to do.

I have fallen into a rut of luxury. I wish to get out but comfort, like a snake luring eve, i am tricked. To be honest, I wish to travel the world, have an adventure of my own. Too many times have I played many games and read many books, I want to not only feel adventure but live it. Too much have I sat in this chair of defeat and luxury. It has made me weak for the world. For I am afraid of thought, afraid of learning and afraid of losing what I already know.

I have contemplated much suicide but it does not do my soul justice. I do not want to die in ignorance of this world. I do not want to see the end, for this should bring my current journey to a close. Finding myself is my destiny. I have already found how to love, how to indulge and how to hate. For these are what guilty pleasures are made of. This paper is running out of lines but I will not stop until my conclusion has arrived. I have indulged in the pleasures of love and hate with selfishness in mind.

I am young, “You stand while we sit, you still have the energy”. My coach would say. So I stood, I stood proud, strong and with others in mind. But since then I have failed to stand up. Too often have I been blessed with comfort, I want to stand. I want to feel my legs again I want to brace my arms as I’m flying through the air. I just wish to feel alive again, I’ve been dead for so long. My selfishness has overwhelmed me. I am insensitive to those who choose paths that are not like my own. I get angry when confronted with a challenge and worst of all, I refuse to change.

Life as I sit back on it doesn’t stop. It flows until it reaches the ocean. For me to reach the ocean I must unblock this path of thorns and try to escape the evils of society. Though I must use society to my advantages, only then can I reach the ocean. But I have said that too much and now is the time to choose which sewer will lead me to enlightenment. I am afraid, deathly afraid of what path I should take because in this analogy I’d rather not become societies drinking water, cornered into a 9 to 5 existence.

All in all, I wish to find what path I’m looking for. To do so I must stand and this time my friends cannot help me, because I need to learn what it’s like on my own again. In my life I have truly only chosen one thing, that decision lead me to rise above and become known as a leader. Once you go where nobody knows you, you begin to think back on those choices and the happiness that had occurred. I have not stood in four years, I was lifted so I could see what I strive for. As I’m being dropped, I must learn to fly. I must learn to face death, my fears and I must banish the thought of losing my knowledge. This is just the start, I’ve learned how to fall, so when will I start flying?

son and shade.

A simple poem lies in the wakes of those who conquer only speech.

Those who truly think, think vividly.

Like ice in the blazed morn of mid afternoon.

My heart melts like a heart felt letter.

By the time blue skies pass and the stars scream of their most interesting adventures.

The light has already passed..

A shadow i have become, beyond the shadows son.

Life with all its blues and greens paints only the blues with me...

The yellows that scream needs, far-fetched the red bleeds.

Off the couch i hallucinate dreams of virtue.

I trip mad science while I breathe dust.

Till the light comes and the day seizes me.

I breathe.

What life has done to me.

EDIT: i'd like to point out that now that i read this over, it's a little too over the top and isn't my best work. haha

Warning, Cuss words and abusive phrases follow.

As sad as one can be.

I, am my own enemy.

I fall asleep to awake late to my day.

I try to slumber but my eyes, open they stay.

When dreaming, stress condemns me, my life offends me.

I chase a high that doesn't exist.

One you couldn't understand let alone get the jist.

I've got a fucking problem.

It's what I see.

What I perceive to be me.

worse than them.

I see reality as it convicts me and continues to restrict me from the way I wanna be.

Addicting, the high I chase.

That golden serenity, that feeling, a base.

The building tall, lined with padded walls.

Cliff jumpin, Splish splash, music Bumpin.

My mind like a merrygoround horses blitzin.

My face blitzed in.

My future as speed racer till the smack requires a pace maker.

Dreams, hopes, idols, heroes and gods.

Little boys screaming cross world playin COD.

My life's a reality, not a game, no joke.

So fucken step outa me, go home, get choked.

The true passion revolves around desperate times.

Thoughts of suicide, you master through desperate rhymes.

'Cause you ain't playin around.

Cussin and rhyming so you don't end up a ditch in the ground.

So get lost punk and leave me be.

I'll fucken crack your neck open and make you bleed.

Back up, step up, shut up, 'cause your life means nothing to me.

Now the real heart shows, the man with bow and arrows.

Real lives shatter, real blood spatter.

You think your tough cause you can rhyme "Me" with "Soliloquy"? well guess what, you just met the best part of me.

The fucking god damn art of me, the heart of me.

so sit down and relax while i relapse and cure my mind.

No! fuck you spine. that delicious taste that made our race hate us.

Now step back and relax son, " Tip the needle" watch daddy do how it's done.

You tired yet?

Live life real to the feel of my finger tips.

Blood, sweat, tears, poor through these whores lips.

Crooked smiles, nothin but a dial tone.

The sound you hear as eggs go over easy.

Thats right bitch get down and please me.

Another record yet won. Say what, rap is done?

Fuck ya'll niggas who think you got talent.

Ask yourself who your doing it for, you fucking gallant.

I do this shit for me because it keeps me alive.

Because depression eats me alive.

A walking shadow is how I feel, So step back and kneel.

Get mad, you million dollar sell outs.
Everybody using lady gagas coke inspired talentless dreams and Tpains octaves as bail outs.

Find your own shit or produce something new.

Take a chance on a nigga who's still foolproof.

Don't take the hollywood way, which destroys it's own genre through creating a childs macrame.

Step up be loud get your voices Heard!

Or this world we live in will always be obsured.

As sad as one can be.

I, am my own enemy.

ARGH!

Argh argh agh argh!!!!! Life you better figure your self out!

In other news " stop the world, im getting off here "

ugh, life. how not to endure...

Car broke down today, needs a new fuel pump. there goes $300.

anyway grandmas letting me borrow hers, bless her soul. thank you grandma !! :D

defeat

There is only so much sympathy in the world, after all some times you just need to suck it up and move on. Live your life the way it was intended to be and become a proud member of society. Stop living to receive and become a part of this, Believe.

Man, Honest 4/26

Not in the mood.

Reasons for reason.

The treason bestowed.

The life we owed.

Humble regrets.

Technical fowls.

Modest bets on not so wise owls.

So why pitch this idea to me?

As if its the key.

To lead one on.

I fear to be gone.

Hope lasts, regrets gleaming.

Only myself you see me being.

I cannot change, have not changed.

I will not show and will not go.

So why doth the wind just blow?

How cursed are the marks and scars?

How beloved are our things and cars?

Why must we provide a cushion beneath our psyche?

To convince people that they need these things to " like me "

Unheard of consumerism lasts as far as we will go.

Lost sanctums, indigenous capitalism cities raised, now low.

The eras lost between time.

Only what is left is not mine.

For possession of and mine you will never be.

But only on your own you may claim me.

I must comply for then we'd be each others.

To raise one of us, just like our mothers.

summer thoughts in winter

4/20/10

As simple as the wind

Attributes scathed, riots paved

Laminant cards, sun gleams fresh glare

Color rich, vibrant waves dance against the sky

Blue dye cast, blue sky vast

Winter shuns the warm ones

Light turned to fog, shallow rays, clouds condemning

do frozen, sounds beneath your feet

Pause of deliberation before they meet

step on, fence posts snow shaved high

Breath before you lingers, hands cold

Dull motion and crystallized trees

zapped color, a cold breeze

autumn before this, good bye spring leaves

as simple as the wind

attributes scathed, riots unpaved

lush green fields of blue grass in november

year round the town i lived in was a town to remember

flat tire raised along with bonfire sheraids

The smoke high, sun glistening

you can touch the sky keep listening

oak trees climb the blue

looking over them i've said good bye

Thoughts, contemptuous rampage of beautiful reality

our reality

as simple as the wind

Laminant cards, sun gleams fresh glare.

All i've ever been

i guess the reason i drag my feet so much is because i realized long ago that nobody cares about what i do

which is why i can get away with so much

the only reason i did good last year

was because i was doing it to stick with my friends

and become part of something

and now that im part of it

the motivation is gone

and the will for me to succeed has ceased to exist

i've driven myself into a hole...

i miss this

From Drop Box

who's that?

my good friend rena :D

From Drop Box

Honestly

Dear school

I wish I never knew you. You've brought me so much in my life time, you've given me everything I've desired from you. But today, I no longer wish to be apart of what you really are. The thoughts I've conceived under who you've been and the actions I've taken to dismay you are unforgivable. Don't forgive me, I don't wish to be with you any longer. The pressure you provide and the shades of gray you've become have greatly lessoned my appreciation for what you've given me. The way you are now is no longer what you were then. I no longer feel attached to you, much like most of my time with you, I often thought this behind your back. For many years you've put this unyielding pressure upon me. They say its healthy to exercise your mind, that may be true but it certainly never ever feels that way. The last time we had fun together was over a year ago and I can firmly say, I'm spent. I cannot handle the puns, the hypocrisy, the idiocy, the immature lectures, the talking down too. The feeling of acceptance only goes so far with you. After awhile, you begin to wear on people. Some cannot not handle your pressure and I am beginning to see why. Though to quit has never been what I do best. Although I want to beyond belief. I wish that we could have a break. I want so much to be away, I even think of cheating. As if I could quit you and and begin the relationship I want with my GED. The job I already have and the attitude I bare are enough to get me through more than you know. But you cannot see past this because you are as naive as when we first got together. You assume I have much to learn when in reality I have already learned as much as you have provided. You treat me as if I'm lesser than you to portray how transfixed you are with your self. You act as if I know less than you've already taught and for this I cannot forgive. I have seen the brighter side of you and I have seen the dark as well. But now, I wish to see the sky, for I am done with that umbrella you've been holding over me since we began this relationship. I want to grow passed you, I want to prove you wrong in every way. I hate you now, I hate what you represent and with my own words I will destroy you out of spite. I will show you how it feels to learn what I have learned and to learn again what you've taught me. I will cripple you and move on. I will begin my life anew and I will feel amazement for myself. I wish to be rid of you. I'm Sorry, for this relationship has come to a halt, you can no longer offer what I desire, for my selfish whims are too strong. I yearn for more than you could ever imagine and because of this I have already moved on. Right now I have just been waiting for a good time to stop you in your stride, so I could gently thank you for all you've done. During my thanking I will mention how immature you really are and how common you have become. I'll explain how you have not changed since the day we've met and as the tears stream down your smooth face I will tell you how much I've grown. I will hold your hand no longer, as if being led by a child to my doom. I will tell you to your face as you gasp for those little breaths of air, " I'm sorry but your not what I thought you were".

And I will move on. As you cry out for my soul. I will move on, just like the rest of them. I will be gone and you will have tainted another life with your greedy hands.

honestly and sincerely

Casey L. Jarrell

Pretty pretty

Oh beautiful, sun shines sunlight.

Stars seen, light obscene.

Night cold, our hearts warm.

Oh beautiful.

just a quote

i took this from a friend. Jake Swain.

" I have an idea of what the purpose of consciousness is, not life or the purpose of the universe, but i think that consciousness is the seemingly inanimate universe reaching out to know itself. To see itself in all it's glory "

Definition

Cotton weaved fantasies.

A lie, a lie.

Burned.

I need a dictionary.

This worlds to small.

The dust to hard to breathe.

My nose plugged arms wrapped around me.

Can't find the inspiration I desire.

Lost, the coals not on fire.

Keep dreamin, society wails.

Keep being, my body tells.

Through thought and through isolation.

You just give up, put everything down.

Little hope stirs in the ocean.

Dark blue waves have crashed my sails.

A white flag is all I've got left.

These clouds, the heavenly features, rain poors, my mind theft.

Statements you believe built to deceive but through them I see.

Just how depressing this world is to me.

To live life free, impossible.

To take what I can get and to give what I can take, plausible.

Stuffy wood, cracked dried seems, and pitch dark air.

The world we open our eyes to is not there.

To wonder through darkness till the lights on.

To fall and stumble, it's what we've built our world for.

If only you could see your dreams.

If only this world wasn't so clean.

Cotton weaved fantasies.

A lie, a lie.

Burned.

The Foundation

A lot has gone by of which I pay little attention.

The pivotal excuse is the price of my ascension.

I disguise activities to fool my mind.

Relentlessly I follow an empty road.

No road lays before me.

A books pages fly back and forth.

The wind reads, the chapters passed on.

The life span and through man life is passed on.

The story told although none may be true.

A man with a book written for few.

The book written about anything one desires.

Man could not take it, a test was made.

Man through knowledge and through spite could not fathom.

The stories foretold of a book about everything.

Man failed, the author insane, for these blank pages he explained.

" You are too weak, too thorough, you've all lost sanity. what a pity, humanity ".

He went about his days as the book was forgotten.

The only sane man his deeds forgotten.

His book, still out there with one secret.

On the hard cover back it says " all's beginning"

His book you see was about imagination. Every author since writes in this mans pages. The only sane man left is on blank pages.

There she lay

The deepest sigh.

The regret.

The thoughts of contempt travel through your veins.

Nothing but alibis.

Thick batter of excuses, Denied.

Is there only one or may I choose?

Dead leaves flake beyond the sky.

Stars illuminate, but why?

Trees cold, branches clash.

Ground full of leaves at last.

Summer days and spring nights.

Heat waves and amber lights.

Smoke rises through the laughter.

Quiet still, the morning after.

Calling time machine

Inconsiderate and intolerable.

No longer the will.

No longer the faith.

Beyond selfish acts and the cape of insanity.

To dorm through life coping with humanity.

The perception of indulgence.

The flawed ignorance.

An unequal weight weighs on the heavy soul.

No for none, the abundance of specialties.

The pent house dreams built by weaker means.

The layers of people we lay on.

The measures taken to deceive our fellow man.

With disgust we ignore it and live by ourselves.

Consciously here, though blind when awake.

We wait for fear, our lives they will take.

Living by us is but only a means to grasp the world by them.

To live and to congregate.

The groups weave.

Inconsiderate retaliation of our ignorant brotheren.

The leave of absence of our minds and all because of the capitalistic world that we call home.

The world may be free, but ignorance will forever surround us.

The beauty in words have been lost.

The world now is no longer about pride.

Or maybe it never was.

But the materialistic fashion in which our desires are based, only create and further a more empty hole in our souls.

Because we are human, the earth cries.

Because we are human, reality is not perceived.

Because we are we, we will always be deceived.

The world we know is different than the one we wake to.

We do not exist but to destroy and leave behind the wake that others must overcome.

We are selfish, we are ignorant, We are human.

Nobodys

surrounded by thoughts of refusal.

Where's the drive, where's the ignition?

Brain, argues.

How is it that it seems like i care for someone else more than myself.

How is it that i just don't care.

I want to know the answers but i don't have the will to find out.

I'd like to know who's that at my door but my body is glued to the floor.

My hair falls out.

The grey spreads thin.

A conscious being of being conscious within.

The thoughts of true mediation.

The point of false relation.

The joke of perception.

The worlds correction.

The leader no longer leads.

The peoples mouths bleed of stupidity.

The true warriors gone.

The tech war on.

The fascist state.

The trapezial mind rape.

The recognitioned fate.

The lustrous superficial black-male date.

The interpretor shot.

The days where all see eye to eye gone.

The corporational thieves.

The capitalistic greed.

A world built on the so called America.

Deep in our constitution, the right to bare arms.

The capital world built perfectly.

Born to be sedentary.

No revolutions, no causes just.

Just human greed and lust.

The curves of our legislature.

The stupid waves of citizens.

The difference in monarchy.

The field of hierarchy.

The place where we die.

The beginnings end.

The lie behind it all.

To protect the bruises when we fall.

The clash of clad pasts and the darwinian exposure.

The home of the brave and land of the free.

You people are sucking the life out of me,

The lies, the curious endeavors.

The checks that bounce.

The quality of your soul.

The character of your kindness.

Everybody rude, nobody gets it.

The capital world wants you to forget it.

We die, we cry, we lie, and nothing happens.

We breath, we'eve eyes, we live and nothing happens.

The stuttering thought of air waves.

The beached whales, that's suicide.

They choose when to die.

The tangent slipping.

Micromanagement gripping.

The minds appalled.

The world beautiful, if only we weren't we, it could still be.

The effort lost for our selfish need.

sclera. 2/19/10

An already tired soul

Heart reduce to coal

Skin that of leather

Eyes crazed like weather

Fall often Springs

The giant nomadical phone rings

Your head contemplating

Everything, irritating

Pure of heart instigating

Cold now never relating

Time coming to a close

People your own foes

hate, hate, hated

wait, wait, weighted

Lost and found.

Picture with words. Third floor.

I've got a real passion for this stuff. wrote this today in english and didn't get caught. I like this new style I've started, its like taking a breath of the freshest air after hopping out of a shower. No matter the setting, as long as I can paint it and have people see it in their own way through my words then that makes my technique and writing style complete. I'm not saying this is a new writing style, just saying that I like using it.

I don't know what I'm thinking.

Constant attack.

Dirt, my past recollective.

My mind feeble, my heart weak.

White noise clouds my voice.

The center of the screen black.

The sun rise, shadows hollow like wind.

The power of light moves my hair ever so slightly.

The couch I waste away on.

The seams broken, my skin pale.

My eyes wonder with doubt, tracing the outline of shadows.

Bags full, my chest heavy, hands weak.

Eye brows waved, the darkness dilated.

Shirt stained, flies curious.

Suede shoes gleam to the right.

The light although bright, my shoes tattered.

Many miles in the past, my pant legs wet with disaster.

The fences I've climbed, the walls I've scaled.

My shoes, barbed wire, my body failed.

This couch once seated three.

The only cushion on it now is me.

My eyes dry with sorrow.

Skin, dirt holds my scabs together as my scabs hold me.

My skin tight, scars never mending.

My past, these thoughts never ending.

The grass outside, yellow and pale as I am.

weeds flourish, seeds contradict the blue sky.

Heat waves swallow the white fluff.

The disastrous flower carried across the street.

My eyes, my eyes, blood thick painted across them.

White noise screams at my body.

The light withers away.

eyes closed, blood no longer running.

body white, the sun glows.

curtains wide, my heart disposed.

Forever my last sunset, shadows cast.

The only life i ever lived, done at last.

Second floor.

For people, what people, who people, see.

As if something has changed inside of me.

I'm mad and mad at the same time.

to only be mad means to outwardly express.

which, i don't.

I can't.

but lately, i can.

The embers that are my heart have only burned to ashes.

wind roars through my body.

Cynicism.

Cynical.

A cynic is what i feel myself becoming.

Worthless, life to me now, the meaning is truly changing.

My meaning is truly changing.

How could i change so much.

Hope to hopeless.

As if there's two sides of me now.

There's me and everything i stand for.

Then there's me who questions everything i stand for.

I question reality, i question, faith, i question gravity, i question life, i question steel, i question sight, i question priests, i question oil, i question fact, i question opinion, i question childhood, i question your mind, your past.

I question how karma doesn't exist, why life purposefully has no meaning, why it is our responsibility to live.

The only thing i truly enjoy beyond belief, is sleep.

Silence. There's nothing to achieve, there's nothing to believe.

There's nothing.

I enjoy living nothing, does this mean i enjoy not living?

52 button panel. first floor.

Meet the world, meet me.

Greet the people, greet me.

Sing with me, dance with me.

Let me serenade you.

Notes, soft like air, kiss at your ear.

Your soul glowing, your face an apple red.

Your smile as cute as can be.

Eyes as deep as ever, so beautiful.

Meet me, meet the world.

Greet me, greet people.

Dance with me, sing with me.

Let me serenade you.

bound with thorns.

The mist, the hue, the rain.

The judge of a sentence.

Forced repentance.

The out line of your character.

Drawn to life scale.

To peal your self from reality.

The rain, sleet, it's hail.

Formed, shapes of mass. Calculated, measured cast.

Your vessel, theatric. The story vast.

Though pages drag on through curious journeys.

Wrinkled and soaked. the book torn.

Lifes travels, narrative lost, thrown away.

The book pleading and begging, screaming.

Tossed from the highest cliff.

Into the deepest river.

It sits now bound and written.

On a rock it waits.

A cellphone, messages from another generation.

Walkie-talkies spoken to, messages received.

The book found years later a man cannot believe.

Though, the pages are empty, ink wiped away.

At the back of the book a picture of whom.

Transition, transition.

A man dies to save his loved ones.

A son gone mad, a mother committed suicide.

A daughter home, raising a boy of three alone.

A fathers wishes turned to hell.

his death for nothing. A boy now 24.

His sister, cancer took.

This boy lives on.

His father an author.

The last book missing, gone.

Alone he finds the satisfaction.

Alone he finds his drive.

Alone he does it all.

Yellow, sands of time wave through the air.

The stars of night blind me as I stare.

Too late to read, closing the book to say.

"I think this is all I can handle for the day".

Walking home I listen to the grass whistle and the wind sing.

I pay close attention to nothing and enjoy my being.

Cold air sweeps the sweat from my pores.

A delightful chill cruses through my veins.

A smile glistens as I close my eyes.

Footsteps my own, rocks beneath my souls.

A slight trip, my eyes open and towards home.

The house, two stories. White as snow.

One light on, the kitchen glows.

My hand reaches for the door, the smell caressing my neck.

The Fire lunging at me, the smoke fills my lungs.

I awake on the floor dieing, crawling.

My eyes blood shot, body in shock.

Smoke creeping under the door.

My fate sealed, I cannot move.

I close my eyes and look at the stars.

I breathe deep to end my suffering.

Tar, build up in my lungs.

The heat wrapping itself around me.

Suffocating, I pass out as if thrown into space.

The building burns to the floor.

The place 'non'-existent.

Hugging my only pillow I weep. It rains, I've no home. Cold, my face wet. City, as forgiving as god yet as terrifying as death.

No home, no eyes, no body. Rest.

one eye calling.

Justification, the cause to meaning means to give definition.

Pixel shaded dust screams passed before me.

The colors ringing loud, " Black and white."

White noise hisses beneath my skull.

The water blue, only my eyes above.

castles raised, clouds falling.

Lead, white, faces drowning.

Heavy rain presses on the soul.

Walking, sluggish mode hints at deprivation.

Windows shallow, hidden stories fold.

Explosions of grey.

Beautiful fields of grass, you run and fall.

A grass hopper at your nose.

A smile, generosity, it hops away.

The clay you've mashed and stoved.

It is the world you bare and hold.

Much like the speaker at your drum.

It molds you to move, physically, mentally.

Distracts you, distracts the insanity.

The feeling of calm and collective.

Self medication and protected.

Pain. Frustrations only cure.

The cuts, the scrapes, the bruises.

To keep sane, we all do this.

For pain to resolve your emotional issue.

Enjoyment means madness but to know what helps is self medication.

Layers of belief rule the morals you behold.

Justification. You are taught how to justify.

After this we recognize on our own.

Some seek, some die, some speak, others lie.

The mind, like a grid, plains never ending.

Plots everywhere, memory access, always pending.

As if someone wants to take the seat out from under me. Never sitting still, can't trust the world. Always ready to stand, too ready to fight.

No path, no host.

Falling prey to the traps of my mind.

To suborn my life through decline.

Words are easily spoken, actions condemning.

Morals upside down, i think i might go back to what im suppose to be use to.

To use, to use, does not mean abuse.

Life lived, life breathed, pain.

How, now, brown, cow?

To who, you, a few, which knew?

As simple as the chicken pocks rewinding comes backward clocks.

Ridiculous, sulfurace, instantaneous recollection.

Melting floors, robbers run, winners die.

Planes crash, swimmers swim, and people get high.

Wavy, lazy, flammable, Inflammable, Ha!

To fire set my hand, blue flames like dust.

Wishes, wells, water, rust.

The constitutional right to lust.

The choice, not free, to perceive, not me.

No clouds in thine eyes for this smoke makes me see.

How, now, brown, cow, what does this mean to me.

Pathologically redeemed, the stress, it seemed.

Ceiling gone, feeling gone, eyes wide as the doors of heaven.

Golden gates black and wavy eyes stoned.

Body dead, life passed, smile here, frown there.

Cold air breathes between the house, body missing.

Plad days run through hazel rays of blight.

The ruins of what was could only be who is.

Through these eyes, missing the stress free environment.

A laugh now, a smile slapped across the face, " how ignorant ".

Tears fly like F1 Bombers.

People pass under in fear. Nothing happens.

Crows land, crows land.

I'm awake, " Hello, my name is Casey "

My mind.

Medows of thick darkness.

Clouds plague the sea.

Rainstorms fight wind currents unbeknown to me.

Green leafs and summer storms.

Blue sky's yet dust is prominent.

Mirrors reflect, subconscious dominant.

Fear storming the houses of the free.

Killing the used and weak for ransom.

All for a fee a hell bent handsome.

Rain drops off ruble, mud curious.

Faces soaked in blood, doors see through.

A man to his left, " concealment not cover, they can see you"!

Another dead body hits the floor.

What is it that we have to learn to win this war?

sundays

Childhood in my back seat, the trunk full of lego's

Tool box to my right see, people waving hello's

Sad and sorry it's all i've ever been

eyes blinded, mind reminded full of past memories

Me jumping off bridges hanging with my dad

Driving away eyes full of tears

Brain screaming through thoughts of past years

Choked up not blinking trying to see the road can't stop thinking

How years fly by with hello's and goodbyes

Childhoods gone living life ahead. and to believe i once thought i'd be better off dead.

Stuck in between parallels of walls that go on forever waiting to realize that nothing will come by and pick me up, never.
The years of intolerance are over. I know now what i couldn't believe then.

Wake up, un fuse with the somatization realize reality and all it's realizations.

I'm the only one holding my hand and right now im about to drop you

the cliff too high, the cliff too high.

Synergy, Lost.

Why does it grab my heart so.

This weary pain haunts me.

But I know I'll never let it go.

Losing my hair and my mind

" why does it grab my heart so"

It's there, my energy within me, intertwined.

I've lost myself completely.

" But I know i'll never let it go"

Insane ever so neatly.

At least I know who I am.

" Losing my hair and my mind"

But who knows maybe I'm a scam.

I can't tell if this is me or who I want to be.

" It's there, my energy within me, intertwined"

The difference being me, is myself actually.

Confused and struck by lighting backwards.

" I've lost myself completely"

Hands raised, " Just take it"! said with violent words.

No push, no effort, on the ground crying.

" Insane ever so neatly"

Frustrated, so mad at myself, lying.

A vessel harnessing the power of the sun.

" At least I know who I am"

If I can't find myself then the day for everyone is done.

Found it!

there it is! it's been missing for such a long time!!! how could i ever live with out you motivation, there's just no way :D