Dystopia

Pessimisim blows out the fire of my existence.
Lug the ancient feelings of reoccurring dread.
It exsists in disgraceful proclamations-
Monotonous and routinely garnishing simple hopes.
There should be none.
Already intrinsic thoughts mashed my positivity.
The dystopia is in my vision.
Foul and sickening, loveless and promiscuous-
Emotions are for the weak.
How strange are the romantics with their moronic stupefaction?
It will never end that way.
The journey will defeat you.
Unrequitable feelings slap you in the face.
Turn the other cheek.
Offer it to save face.
Be lacking in personality, it's your rescue to failed comradery.
See the landscape for what it is.
If you cannot see the future, I'll share my binoculars.
It comes: the dystopia!
Gray clouds roll in on inspiration.
Stagnancy of blessings peel back truths.
Ethereal unions are fictitious.
Throw away the rose colored glasses,
they are uselessly worn to add to falsehood.
Cut out these aspirations, they dissapoint.
I'll hand you the knife.
Best to be unexpecting any magical gifts.
Don't wish on stars, save your prayers,
Tragedy is forever on it's way.

Bittersweet

Hey sweetheart, why do I dare look you in the eye?
I'll stare past you so you have a to dig in the candy jar.
There's apparent jawbreakers in there.
Confessing sweet sediments will sour my stomach.
Bitter nags nauseate my joy.
A swollen sore tongue slurs what I need to say.
Candyman, tempt me.
I'll eat up the worth of your company.
Listening to your sourness completely sweetens my disposition.
I'm still here after our rotten teeth and bloated bodies struggle to go on.
The malnutrition of empty words still fill me up.
Hyper from syrupy emotions, buzzing with casual tart remarks-
I can only taste this sparingly.
Too much would keep me dazed and stupid.
Be my occasional indulgent regret-
When the stomach ache wears off, I'll be back for more.

Lion Heart

Subduing a wild urge.
Caged up in my sediments.
Steel bars and concrete cannot jail my thoughts.
I will waste away here in solitary confinement.
For misconstrued actions still burn away at these ropes that bind me,
And taming lion hearts can only tear away at the common essence of the beast.

They are strong.
Roar and show whetted teeth.
Frighten the phlegmatic as they hide in separate caves.
Not knowing affectivity creates separate cells.
You can only wish to engage in admiration like mine.
I stand defensive and proud of these qualities.
Attributes of soul rebels confuse.
Hearts that vibrantly blaze can force you into a tomb.
It's a life not for the restricted.

My ferocity causes the need to be softened.
Kindred carries the scourge.
I am resenting the constriction.
Be brutal in forcing my rebellion into retreat.
I will still return as you drop the lash.
Ringmaster hears the growl.
Offer no recognition.
Vicious hearts are too dangerous.
Do you want to live life passionately or contentedly mundane?

Lick the wounds that coward's generate.
Salt them too, with mistrust.
My ribs still imprison rabid, wild, lion heart-
And It will beat too forcefully to be a reconciled.
Behave, under close guarded contacts.
If it is unleashed, you will be torn to shreds.

Soul Sedation

Hidden imp of slumber,
Rest these sleepy eyes.
Veil in piety so I know longer have to enchant.
For I too, need rest-
And the clock's arms don't wait.
Time becomes as clouded as my judgment.
Propriety runs the hourglass.
It sifts conducive moments.
Wasted interfering monologues are dancing in my head.
Tired, bruised personalities keep insomnia in motion.
Duck out of finding the meaning.
Dreams bring them to life.
If I could just escape to that world,
Maybe it would make sense.
Bloodshot windows to my soul haze concepts I wish to simplify.
My heavy eyelids nightly spill.
I whisper my desperate plea:
What are you hiding from?
As if you hear it in the wind.
Waiting for replies steadfast, but not strong.
I repeat the words as I close my eyes.
Gently share your reality.
For if you come with vengeance, overtired affliction is far worse.
There in the land of nod we are both present.
You still run away.
 I awaken, unrested and still unsure.
Analyzing thoughts, burying my head in my pillow.
I hope this isn't a diabotical plan to keep me awake.
Where are you comforting embrace?
Hallucinating after days, hoping to forget.
Responsibilities keep guarded truths at bay.
Depravation is where you hide my questions,
The answers seem impossible to grasp.
Rest is hard for fierce hearts.
They are constantly trying to figure out what to pursue.
Imagination lulls me unconscious.
I am robbed of what may be the truth.
Thought terribly hurts exhausted minds.
Comatose, my bliss continues to vibrate the blood in my veins.
Anxious for it's long awaited arrival, I cannot lay still.
Sleep, come with me to intoxication for it's the only way to stifle this lonley inquisitive soul.
Dumbing down and backing off requires sedation.
The vacant minded slumber is where I wish to stay.
I will relish in letting go.

Bipolar Express

All aboard the bipolar express!

Elated to ride the thunder that rumbles in the pit of my stomach.

Today I was so happy to be in your presence.

So much so, the trip had me high on pleasant emotions.

Hopping down stairs, getting strange looks from other attendants-

Aggravated because they felt the same way....just 5 minutes ago!

But now we pull out of the station,

Depressive and in critical need-

To fill that pensive irrational point of view.

Who drives that engine of extremes?

I see it is the menagerie of bittersweet fights.

Faceless until you focus on your own thought.

A juggling clown or the grim reaper.

Boarders are laughing with tears running down their faces.

Half way through their shared delight,
We all realized it's short lived.
Chug on because we have to.
The super fine line of bliss and madness-
Corrupts us all, fulling the fire, and causing our backs to me thrown against the aged seats.
Manage to pull yourself forward, just to be tossed back again.
We turn and look at each other with the same concerned expression on our faces.
It's time to get off of this hell ride, but we know it is impossible.
Shout to the conductor!
I want off this one way voyage.
The destination was never determined.
We pass by every stop, excited then deflated.
The driver is pleased.
"Ah ha! You cannot stop your vehemence!", he shrewdly responds.
Mournful sighs fill the cabin.
So the train runs between our woes and delights everyday.
I knew my personal conflict but could see no end in sight.
Praying for derailment.

Every Song

My eyes squint under blankets,
And before my feet leave my bed-
There's already a song playing indecently,
Painfully decernible-
In my lecherous capacity.
I slowly rise, as every song haunts my well being.

A picture player flickers in my mind.
Static rips the imagery.
I hear pops and crackles, yet the verses run so clear.
Those moments described thouroghly by every song.
Ditties about the unrequited tendencies:
Throwing oneself in the line of fire,
The needs of humans,
Mishaps of mankind-
All in the format of every song.
Turn it up.
I am deaf to the melody.
I only hear the words-
Oh how wretched-
My favorite lullibies cause grief.
Every song was seemingly written for you.
Mental notes of phrases that seem to be so fitting.
I sing them all day.
I sing them to the hungry ghosts.
Feeding on my broken heart, they wait.
I'll feed them my confessions.
They'll know when the feast is about to be served.
As I hum and mutter the perfect description of how I feel.
They rise to bite my every song.
I am left listless and shaking.
I pour my soul out.
Sing! Sing about the obscurity.
Small puddles vanish as the tunes fade into the background.
My head sways as I prominade out the door.
Every song carries the visitors of tragedy.
The pedestal I have you on casts a shadow.
There, the operas bounce back.
Devoured by what lingers.
At night, still plagued by every song.
All so tiring, all immensely gratifying-
Just to know I was not at all alone in all these ridiculous feelings.
Contemplating my truths, tapping my feet as spector's sit patiently.
Picking the next soundtrack to convey what you have ignored.
It doesn't matter.
Because it is without a doubt, every song.

The Navigator

He set forth, dragging his feet.
Apathetic, unapologetic, and selfish.
On a mission to navigate.
Searching through the maps to find his perfection-
The ideal.
Did he know what angels can turn to after all is lost?
Shame and no self worth.
No rapture, just hellbent worry.
So cut off their wings.
Chain them behind you.
As the clanging, stinging sound makes them weep.
And there I was.
Reluctant to join them, but his eyes made me spellbound.
When the sound of children laughing offers no joyous emotion,
And the beauty of life can not be fulfilled-
It was because the Navigator hid in the shadow of my heart.
He was there, with all his prisoners.
Dragging all their baggage and packing it alongside mine.
I was lost, following his faulty compass.
His quest continued.
Despite my need to turn away, I followed.
Trying to be his transcendence.
Suddenly it was my mission.
I needed to be the red "x" for his destination.
Filling my pockets with magnets, I could make that compass point my direction.
Still my beloved helmsman looked far away.
Is there nothing else I can offer?
I was not her, I am not them, and that seemed to be all that mattered.
Uselessness, trotting along.
Sadness that is seemingly unoticed.
He instead throws little signals along his journey.
And now it is I who drags my tired feet.
All for his bounty and claim.
To be cut free would now leave me aimlessly circling.
Lost without the Navigator, I still have no peace.