I'm sorry, I love you"I'm sorry."
The LCD shines bright,
but those words are all I see within the mess on the screen.
Shining with more darkness than light, they illuminate the night.
"I don't love you."
Those two words I saw have morphed into four
And those four again divide; "You're worthless."
They burn with fire, but I shiver to the core.
"Love is watching someone die."
They say. But you're not listening
And I'm dying, but you're not watching.
And the river run's freely, fresh red glistening.
"I love you."
I've said, but you don't want to hear.
You know it kills me when you're silent,
But killing me is what you do best, dear.
Baby, Run.Don't say it if it isn't so.
So, if you love me let,
Let me know.
Don't look back Baby, run.
Run away from here.
Here isn't where you want to be.
It's In The MomentIt's in the moment when all is silent.
When you're wandering through hallow halls of thought
And the only sounds in the emptiness are your own.
Inhale and exhale in indifferent repetition
When the blank sheet rock wall is suddenly so interesting
That you can't sway your ghoulish gaze.
That's when you notice it for the very first time,
That humming, stirring whir of the world turning
You hold your breath and listen close to the haunting song.
It's in the moment when you realize that it will always be there.
A soundless cascade of crystal crashes over your head,
A caustic epiphany better left untold and unsaid.
The haunting song preaches at the pulpit with painful gasps.
It's whispers yell through the silence, screeching that you are a wonderful waste.
That everything you do and everything you are leaves a sour taste.
It's in the moment when you lose your innocent ignorance.
You know that there's nothing you can do to stop it,
So you do what you've always done, you carry on. Though, you'
I Am A WasteYesterday I was sitting on a bench in town,
Just listening to the city's chaotic sounds.
As I listened I also watched the people walking by
with their smiles, laughter and portrayals of love passing in the blink of an eye.
And suddenly it was clear to me that this life is all an elaborate dream,
A fanciful facade to disguise the screams
Because the world is truly an ugly place
And all we believe in is a lie,
And a waste.
Today I was walking through the snow
Watching all of those tiny ice crystals glow.
They were beautiful as anything can be,
but their beauty was not becoming of me.
I was a shadow in a sea of white
A blackened blemish on the face of light.
Then I realized that me and these pretty things were much the same,
I did not share their beauty, but I knew what we both became.
The snow would melt and so would I.
Each in a different way,
but both turned into waste.
An hour ago I was staring at a blank page
With so much potential waiting to be un-caged,
but all the art in this worl
I Found Somebody ThereIn the darkest corner of my mind
I found somebody there.
Voice, an echo of my own.
Chained, not free to roam.
She says she has told me many times
That the ice is far too thin.
She says she's coming out to guide me
Because my eyes can't see.
She wrapped her chains around my neck,
Pulling me along behind.
She held my mind in her clawed hand
and crushed it into sand.
Like a migratory bird it flew away in the frigid wind.
"You don't need that." She whispered coldly.
So, my mind drifted away into the blackened night
And formed a single star, the only light.
She took me into the damp darkness
And there she kept me.
She took me away from the star,
my mind in the sky, So very far.
She left me there inside her liar.
Now that she had gotten what she wanted.
She left me there as she stepped inside the mirror,
The one in which I disappear.
There He Was"Oh God!" he cried "Oh God...",
though he did not believe.
The noises of war disappeared,
But there he was.
There he was praying to nothing
for something to save him.
The lights flashed above,
But he did not see.
He did not see the medic
lacing his wounds, though it was too late.
He felt the blood fill his mouth,
but did nothing to clear his mind.
Nothing to clear his mind of the lights,
Flashes, arches, facades of color.
His body was broken, he knew it,
But wasn't he still alive?
Wasn't he still alive?
No he wasn't.
The noises of war returned,
But there he was.
There he was, his prayer no longer heard
Over the loud colors
And bright screams,
But he no longer screamed.