Consumption

My heart is a singular thing,
fortifying its purpose,
consuming all beneath the surface,
discovering if this life is more than just a fling.
No control in what this heart brings,
allowing all hurt between its seems,
great love or great fear,
no control – absorbing all into its fragile sphere.
I take your hurt and make it my own,
the curse of this heart I gladly invoke,
my heart – the bringer,
my mind – following its procedure,
my journey contorted into this sentimental creature

Wilted

Over the horizon,
I see the life I hope to come alive in,
if it truly gets darkest before dawn,
what transformation will I have undergone?
Plucking a flower to admire its beauty,
it stuns then dies as its destined duty,
leave it where it may and it’ll live until gray,
selfish to assume that with you it must stay.
The latter occurred that led you withered from view,
sobbing as you left my front door,
you said with tears – I thought you ignored,
I loved you, too

Dial Tone

Listen on the rain,
last words you said to me,
this before you led me to decay.
Tears stream down my face,
you hung up – leaving me in disgrace,
daunting final words dwell in deafening ears,
your voice left me swallowed in all my fears.
Broken pieces of my heart,
left in shambles without my counterpart,
she was the one keeping me together,
now without her I’ve lost – my reason – my treasure

Wake up!!!

Work, eat, sleep, repeat,
work, eat, sleep, repeat,
this is the formula to your impending defeat.

It’s no grand mystery to this lifelong servitude,
we are bred into believing this is all we must do,
to skim across time as this must be our only attitude.

Fuck this mass production of a deepening narcosis,
leaving each other at arms length is a state of residual hypnosis,
shock your mind into becoming an individual,
connected we must become against these waves of the tyrannical

Original Draft

Revolver

Time froze,
senses dulled as it began to erode,
deeper into the void I tumbled,
falling into a mind that was far more troubled.
Moments of abyss,
strengthen what previously did not exist,
lucidity kept what was left unsaid,
but now turn my words into solid lead.
Shards of this malevolence,
came with regretful consequence,
succumbing to pride,
forcing me to lose the one I called my bride

Instalies

We live so out loud,
show me your achievements
or risk being disavowed.
Take a still shot,
stay connect,
and attempt to stay relevant.
This is the philosophy of the now,
all eye’s on you,
this is not the future Orwell had found.
So surreal it seems,
strangers enjoying these highlight reels,
while at the same time
not giving a shit about your ordeals.
I don’t mean to sound bitter,
only showing what is to be considered.
Don’t be distracted by another’s “success”,
focus on yourself,
and skip to the beat of your own life’s process.

Original Draft

The Man and The Room

There was a man,
there was a room,
one was mad,
the other plagued as a fool.

The room was dark and damp,
enough height to create a stance,
enough room to even break out in to a dance.

The man thought,
dance?
One would look silly,
the idea was absurd,
the idea was a joke, really.

How could I bring myself to such a vulnerable position?
When all those around would truly laugh in sedition...

Keeping and standing,
That’s what I’ll do,
nothing unexpected,
in this darkening room.

A thought creeped across his mind,
as he began to take notice,
of the room all around him,
with its crippling coldness.

The coldness of this room,
is not of the shivering kind,
but of the loneliness that comes,
when there is no one there to meet your eyes.

A yearning came to him,
as if at long last,
he craved people,
and wondered why this room he has been stashed.

This room was a world of self-preservation,
a four walled cage,
which became his deepening inclination.

Now lost in a world,
plagued since youth,
each wall represented a disturbing truth.

One was greed,
holding so close,
everything,
turning himself into a fiend.

The second was to be embarrassed,
not allowing anything spontaneous,
so he taught himself to not be too careless.

The third, was lack of the curious,
without creating any turbulence,
accepting what he was told,
and never questioning the fold.

The last was fear,
never allowing himself to go near.
By no coincidence this is where the door lay,
the escape from this cold, dark place,
the very end from where he stayed in disgrace.

While taking a risk,
he finally made a fist,
and while screaming aloud he said this,
“I will no longer be the fool,
in this self induced madness,
its time to end my never ending sadness!”

With heart on sleeve,
and stomach in throat,
he finally began to tear down these walls
that all his life,
left him suffocated and choked.