Empty Pages.You are the perfect story,A plot unfurling from your touch,And poetry in your eyes.You speak with golden glory,Into sentences of hate,And promises of lies.You are the bookI never had the words to write.
Fallen.I wonder how many tearsLucifer has shed,when he sees the scars on his backand remembers he once possessed wings.Probably still less than mewhen I look at your memoriesand see the hollow spacefrom where you cut me out.
midnights always last longer than they should.i spend sleepless nights in my roomstaring at your picture on my mirrorand wondering why on earth someone as beautiful as youwould ever love someone like me,but then i rememberyou don't.
I Am Lost.I am lost,I cannot feel.Is this sleep,When I close my eyes?Or is it death,When I rest my head?I am lost,I cannot see.Is this real,When I hear your voice?Or is it an illusion,When I see your face?I am lost,I do not knowWhere I am,When I look ahead.Or where I've been,When I look back.I am lost,I have forgottenHow to speak,When words weigh on my lips.Or how to scream,When terror fills my lungs.I am lost,I’ll never be found.No one noticed,When I went away.They can see me,But I am gone.
Insomnia.I’d stay awakeAll nightIf it meant you’d still be breathingIn the morning.
contrast without the compare.when i look in a mirror,i don't see what i ami see everything i'm notand can never be.
Color Me Dead.I'm tired,the kind that sleepcan't fix.I need somethingstronger,a type of restthat last longer.
Please Come Back.I'm sorryfor putting those bruises on your waistI held on too tightlybecause I was so afraidof what would happenif I were to let go.
epitaphs don't count as love letters.he said my eyesgasped like a dying breathand he wasn't going to wait aroundfor the funeral.
.Last nightI stayed up late and criedBecause I hate this world I live in.As a child my grandmother would read me stories ofGolden Geese,Brer rabbits,Wynken, Blynken’, and Nods,Snow Whites and CinderellasBut the story that stuck with me the most was that of Icarus,Because he didn’t get a happy endingAnd, if I’m honest,That’s more like the world we live in.See, their world is about good hearts, belief, and hard work.As long as you have those,You’d get your happily ever after.But here, belief is about as powerful and real as those storiesGood hearts get trampled onHard work is only occasionally rewardedAnd happily ever after’s don’t happen till you’re dead(Maybe)If we believed moreWe’d find fairy godmothers would come back to usGood would win in the endAnd maybe(Just maybe)I could have a chanceWith you.
Lost KitesLove was paper kisses;Beneath lyrical oaksWe cut the stringsOn cellophane kites. d g r n i i f t f o r e v e r
NumbI'm so numbthat ithurts.
.and they knew,they knew i'd gone -when they found me outside crouchedwith a string box and stick, singingi'm going to catch me my death,make him sick -now i sit in a gown that is whiterthan white, doesn't suit me,this ghost to myself -on the corridor bench with my kneestucked in under my chin, rattlingwith green yellow blue(i've told you, i know where i'm going)
.My heart beats itself to death.
Slaughterhouseevery fake smileshoves me closerto the edge of a blade.when your life existspurely in shadowslight terrifies you.your pulseis the most valuable thingyou have.so wear your heart on your sleevebefore they throw youin the slaughterhouse
Who and WhyWho are you? I am me.Why are you? Because I can.
CryDon’t cry anymoreFor the fighting is overExcept within us
Woes of the World.Woes of the World.These are the people of the world today.These are the unaltered images currently on display.Underneath all the glamour, glimmer and glitz.Take away the fictitious and deliberate array.Uncover the cosmetic and carefully applied mist.Look out the window and this is what you will be left with.Hoodlums blaring out music from their phones on the back of the bus.Undercover police scouting out the local estates for their next drug bust.Doting high school pupils hoping to attain their A level requirements.Post and undergraduate university students engrossed by assignments.Fathers suited and booted leaving their rooted families for another bird’s blue tits.While the mums provide dinners for their bread winners slaving at home clueless.Young naive girls getting pregnant and subjecting their children to negligence.The fathers who can’t be trusted, get busted are now serving a long term sentence.Graduated students with degrees faced with the prospect of
...and everytime i flipthroughthese empty pages,alli can seeare the blankstares glaringbackat me.[i have nothing to say .]
...you've got the rain following youaround like a sad tunedancing atop of cloudsthecrows are loosingfeathers likepetalsoff of flowers.[it's melancholy .]
...i'd like to see the stars, falland kiss themoon.i'd make a wish as they'd shatter its glowinto a million little pieces, andscatteracross the seas.one day, these lights will goout; one day, that wish will cometrue.[shut your eyes and imaginethe end]
11:47roses are redviolets are bluecompliments mean nothingwhen coming from you.don't tell me i'm skinnydon't call me fatjust acknowledge i'm humanand leave it at that.
.hatredis in labour,would givebirth toforgivenessif i let it(no)
.not nowi am too afraidof dreaming,if i do -the tidewill recoil atmy touchand then say, come,come sleep under me,look,the sky is throwingdown its nighttime sheets, let's gograb that loosegold thread and pull,let's watchthe stars unravel -i might have kissedthose feetof freyas soft and gentle,but you know if you waderight in i'mrough and heartless,the planets willalign, and then,three ghosts, one of themmy father, and there ain'tnothing holy'bout him,a starving dogwill run - there willbe red on white and i willlaugh, and i will standat the topof writers blockand i willthrow myself off(sleep please take me back i'm sorry about before)
...I didn'tbuildthis castleso you couldsit onyour throneoflies.
.i tell heri do not wantanything,i do not knowanythingelse,i say my mindis confinedto me alone, and iam confinedto the earth(tomorrow said to yesterday, please meet me in the middle)
.a lover leaving hishome for another, a sparkthat becomes a flame
Preparation.Tell mebefore you pull the trigger,I want my last wordsto be something to remember.