Waiting

It's purgatory, Hells waiting room
The mode is sleep
Lying dormant, waiting the boom
Stillness runs deep
It's the clock, the speed is slow
Can it be right?
Never late, but this show
Has not a light
It's the head, the machine
Not off but not on
In the seat, No one's seen
Steering the pawn
It's more, above and then
quite beyond
Still waiting, for when
The connecting bond
Appear now, let me live
My eyes half awake
Only pain, do you give
For me to partake
I run, that's not my intent
What I'm made of
My worth, not made in cent
Is the love

High noon numbness

In this game high are the stakes
I walk like nothing as exterior flakes
From the shoulders of knowing
talk that is more glowing
And the furniture can't hold
What's coming or so I'm told
I hear from the past a soft song
it's sings in the distance what's wrong
will I adhere to the warning?
Do I have just till morning?
The day is to be soon
As I face the high noon
a battle of the soldier
who only grows older
can wisdom finally be held?
Is it a noise that's yelled?
Is there room for the space?
To empty is the race
once again it is full
with a comfortable stool
but approaches is dawn
as I stroll through the lawn
the numbness I ride
till I enter inside

A misdirected rose

Rose colored days
water love song
true holds held
endless days long
time spent well
city lights went
country girl's heart
with internal clocks bent
red mostly sad
not like the first
girlfriends friends
feeling I could burst
demensions sang
and my song lasted
nights catch stars
even if fasted
hatred writing ways
and evil devil sparks
cloning to the white
and turning to the parks
children lose your mind
forgetting all that's left
it's real only then
it feels close to theft
she's coming here now
not sure of my direction
keep the hungry fed
and lead with misdirection

Forgetting to give

If nothing was glue I'd be stuck
nothing to do looking for luck
holding to time it's only slipping
relying on rhyme light is my gripping
fog is my view blind is my walk
turning to you hearing your talk
blue turns my face breathing is slow
asking for grace I'm dying to know
knowing is death I'm trying to live
forgetting the breath forgetting to give

Numbing style pace

Dreams inhabit the space unknown
bits of the memory, a time I've flown
jets to the surface volumes of light
stars bright the sky in the darkness of night
left are the hanging and stuff that's a drag
a world that's empty to one with no lag
open the eye the one in the middle
lost is the weight and dropped is the riddle
floating in darkness that's blinding my eyes
lifting the senses exposing the ties
free is this dream but only in space
floating outside of my numbing style pace

More darkness is the want

So much darkness
I want more of it
Soulless souls
My only friends
unfunny funny
smiles for nothing
cut the air
With the rooms tension
My mind is blank
I'm an inner type
it's only job
the one it can't do
skies and grass
smells and taste
Colors and pictures
create nothing
not in this darkness
I want more

Wrist blood bitch

There's a saying that goes something like this, "Not only does water seep it's own level but sewage seeps it's own level too." I like to use this saying for romantic relationships.  In the beginning you're high, it's a drug.  The "Romantic stage."  Everyone love's that part but it's when the honeymoon's over that you realize you have issues you never knew existed.  You found out about these issues because she brought them to the surface.  She brought them to the surface because the same issues were inside of her.

Have you ever seen a nice girl with some dirt bag guy?  You ask yourself, "What's a sweet girl like her doing with a guy like that?"  I'll tell you what she's doing, she's fucked up.

My wife had an ex boyfriend who slit his wrists after she broke up with him.  He did it the long ways too, not the across the wrist.  Then he wrote bitch in blood on the wall above her bed.

This disturbs me.  I'm just not sure I could ever love her that much, not enough to slit my wrists.