AlcoholicYour tux is the colorof a coal miner’s faceafter a long, hard day of work:something you’ve neverhad to experienceYet you talk as thoughyou’re just as worn out;your trivial chit-chatis turning syrupy with every sip,although your sentencesaren’t getting any sweeterAnd you grab another glassof the effervescent liquid,hoping the sea of black will blend together,and it will be dark enoughfor you to fall asleepAnd as you walk tipsily to the bathroom,the overpaid opera singerbelts her last high note- a bit too high;your crystal glass shattersinto a thousand piecesAnd with it, you shatter too.
Sheets“I adore you,”she said, whimsically twisted in the rippled gossamer sheets of their bed.And in these words were memories of weather-worn love letters,long kisses with smeared roseate lipstick,and layered mascara outlining her chatoyant eyes,for he loved the way it looked.“I misspoke,”she said months later, tightly grasping the rippled gossamer sheets of her bed.And in these words were soiled and crumpled goodbye notes,untarnished roseate lipstick on her opulent lips,and smeared mascara, creating an ashy mess on her pillowcase,for who cares if he used to love the way it looked.She whispered to empty sheets,“I meant abhor you.”
Candle WaxYou meltmy heartlike candle wax,but I'm afraidover timeI'll getburnt.
Mason JarSpeak my nameto the cavern walls,let me hearyour beckoning callsAnd I'll save the echoesin a mason jar,and open it to listenwhen youare f a r.
GoodbyeI want to mutter a million things,but they’re catching in my throatAnd my heart is heavy in my chest,with a weight that holds a heavy loadThis weight is not a pound of gold,but rather a pound of worthless rocksAnd now I’m spitting bits of gravelas I try to talk
Lonely:When you'reso unwantedthat evenyour thoughtschooseto exityour company.
PalaceThis palacewe've built for ourselvesisn't going to last foreverand I can already see the vines growing,and the cracks forming,and the walls crumblingdowndowndownto the ground thatis falling awayAnd I just can't understandwhy it is so hard to builda beautiful creation like we have,yet so easy to destroythe masterpieceonce it's made
LungsMaybe ifour lungsexhaled moneyinstead ofcarbon dioxide,we'd valuelifea little more(or maybe we'd just go broke).
Blue-Eyed BoyI'd loveto go swimin yourocean blue eyes,but there'salwaysthat riskI will drown.
ShipI missed you todayI regretfully say,My feelings are tidesmoving every which wayThe image of youshall be washed apart,As the shore and the oceando gently departAnd the way that my feetleft prints on the sand,Is the way that I feltwhen you held my handBut it's time to move on,this ship's found new land,The anchor is sunk,and I will withstand
CobwebsThere arepartsof my mindthat aregrowing cobwebs,would you liketo be the oneto dust them off?
It's Okay to be ImperfectThe moonhas craterstoo,and lookhow brightit shines,even inthe darkestof times.
A message to the brokenYou drown yourselfin liquid sorrows,letting the salty messburn your wounds,and the sadnessto drip in your mouth,consuming your wordsand you sayyou deserve the pain,but I want to dry your face,and whisper in your earhow the clouds cry too,while they hold such beauty,and so do you.
Dear DeathI sink my kneesinto the sodden dirtsurrounding the graveof a human long goneI touch the stone'schiseled cursive wordsand trace the letters:how gelid they've becomeI stare at the flowersthat people have left;upon the plot,ham-handedly choppedAnd I contemplatemy inevitable deathhoping no flowers are leftfor the message they possess"I'm trading life for death."
Space“I need space,” he quietly statesBut dear, what do you mean?Do you mean you want the planets,the asteroids,the sun?Do you mean you want the stars,the galaxies,the moon?Do you want to rent a room, inside a great black hole?An infinite vacuum,a quiet location,solitude for the soul?Oh yes, my dear,I’m sure you’ll find plenty of space in thereOh yes, my dear,in there,It’s as empty as you.
SavedYour tangled up soulhas taken a toll,Hiding dark and deepthe secrets you keepThe tears you have shedfrom thoughts in your head,Dear they were all fiction:a made up addictionI want you to knowI see through the show,I know that your eyestell genuine liesI watch as you feignas you’re still in pain,And my soul will be toountil I have saved you
On VulnerabilityI want to stealthe bark off trees,and cover myown skin,for thenand only then,can I protectwhat lieswithin.
Orb of NightThey say the stars will guide you home,so there, I stare, when I’m aloneRoaming through the vacant air,my pale skin chilled, for I am bareI hope my glow can pierce the night,my pitted skin, emitting lightMy dark shadows, they do roam-Maybe they will guide me homeAnd as the birds fly through the sky,I solemnly must say goodbyeThey flap their wings, and fly due south-Will they lead me to my house?And then the sun peeks through the hill,and I, myself, feel rather illI give to her, a kiss goodnight,and go to sleep, as she sheds lightI’ll come again, and see her soon,Signed with sincerity, The moon.
.death has a wayof assuring youthat he is youronly friend;he's the onlyone that willstay with youwhenever youreach the end
.i will swallowthat white pearlon my tonguebut i'll open upfor no one
-she knew he was a grave, but she buried herself in him anyway.
Behind the WordsWe spill our pain across the pages.But we must smile when it is read.For we cannot show our true emotions.Not of suffering, anxiety, or dread.For we are the bringers of dreams to the world.Our words are tales of healing light.So hide your tears behind a mask,And save them for a quiet night.
[Redacted]The sword is mightyThe pen mightier still.Though blades can injureWords can kill.
Six Words for the SufferingPain ends, but you must not.
.i said death,death is a closet;let's all just hangourselves up and keepthe place tidy -
.we are allstrayssearching forhomes ineach other
.you brokea heart,convincedthat there wassomething goodinside
VeinsI wishmy veinsof ocean blueflowed not justto my heart,but toyours too.