beLIEve with me...

I will approach things in a different light.
I will choose calmness over a fight.
I will walk away when things get out of hand
I will always understand.

I won't deal with another dirtbag in my life.
I won't be hurt by another friend holding a knife.
I won't reveal my back to anyone anymore.
I won't be the one bleeding on the floor.

I will try to compromise a little bit.
I will try to smile when I feel a bit sick.
I will eventually be who you want me to be.
I will be everything you deserve to be.

I won't sell my dreams for a mask of shit.
I won't try to be just a passionate kid.
I won't buckle under the pressure of your society.
I won't cave in...you wish you were like me.

Let's just face it, I really want to change.
I want to be categorized and put on display.
I want to be remembered for the image I show.
I want to be recognized as just another soul.

I want to be honest and spit your face.
I want to be the one to put you in your place.
I will be remembered as something fucking beautiful.
I am everything you are not...an individual.

Pity Party Massacre

I feel like I'm fuckin crackin inside,
It's hard enough comin up with a passionate rhyme,
when my brain only works half of the time,
the other half, I'm too busy just passing the time.
On reminiscing over things that no longer exist.
Like the stitches on my heart or the scars on my fist.
When the twitches in my arm shoot down to my wrist
and razors become jewelery to a sick masochist.
But, before you go assuming that I'd slit my own wrists,
I'm just doing what I do to make sense of this shit.
With a pad and a pen, I release all my rage.
My suicide ends when the ink hits the page.
With all the dreams I've had and mistakes that I've made,
I have to write my own ending to escape all the pain.
And I don't give a fuck what anyone says.
This is my fucking heart, this is my fucking head.
This is my blood spilling out the tip of this pen.
If any one's offended by what I just said,
Who cares? I'm always the one that's left in the end.
It's a pity party massacre. And no one is invited.
I'll murder all my worries alone, unrequited.
Slicing through my doubts and insecurities.
I don't need anyone to show me how to breathe.
I know how my evil heart handles situations.
And it's not with the help of false motivations.
I can't relate to the fake, can't have faith in their place.
Cuz everyone is capable of running away.
I've been abandoned before, I still remember the taste.
I'll be damned if I let another person damage my fate.
It's just the way it is, I can't change what you see.
This is the world now, either love it or leave.

Save Yourself

I'm exactly where I'm supposed to be,
embracing the past like the ghost in me.
I'd rather suffocate alone
than by the hands of those close to me.

I'm unflinching but, I am afraid,
crawling through the wreckage I have made.
Don't ever ask me to stop,
this is the only way I'll ever change.

Save myself...
...from these broken memories.
Blame myself...
...you'll never know that part of me.
Change myself...
...by refusing to change for anyone.
Save yourself...
...I'm broken, but, I won't be the only one.

I don't recognize the friends you see,
they all look like enemies to me.
Before you pass a judgment,
remember our separate realities.

I don't do the things I'm meant to do,
not by the standards of conformist rules.
I traverse things differently,
with my heart first, and then values.

Save myself...
...I don't expect anyone's help.
Blame myself...
...too real to blame anyone else.
Change myself...
...by leaving my heart unchanged.
Save yourself...
...sell me out, you're all the same.

Dedicated to Philip Graves

She's a miracle dressed in rose,
a blessing in the sand.
Builds fires with emotions,
and captures lives in her hand.
Such a pretty little girl,
capable of filling graves.
She's innocence from a distance,
touch her once, and it's too late.

Because you're dead.
Dead as dead can be.
She'll eat you alive with wicked little smiles.
Such a pretty little thing.

Her intent is pure,
her heart is without malice.
She'll lead you to believe you're wonderland,
then abandon you like Alice.
Her tears are drops of poison,
her laugh, a hurricane.
She brings it all to a bloody end,
and fills another grave.

Because you're dead.
Dead as anything...
...anything that no longer breathes.
Such a pretty little thing.

She never means to harm,
it just happens uninspired.
It's not her fault she has the power
to set your heart on fire.
But, she is everything a boy could want,
a perfect slice of life.
Too bad, it will never last,
because no man will survive.

Because you're dead.
Dead as I can be.
Delicate hands piercing my heart.
Such a pretty little thing.

Salt Water Homocide

Your eyes are priceless but they're killing me.
These lachrymose and haunting scenes.
You cry and it murders me.

Seems like we're not who we used to be.
Growing closer but still tearing seams.
You cry and it murders me.

You always know what picks me up.
And you have never let me drop.
I'm here because you are enough.
And my heart won't let me stop.

Don't let me go or let me breathe.
Just in case this is all a dream.
Don't let me go. Just help me see.
All these tears just murder me.

You affect the better parts of me.
Take away the negative world I've seen.
You cry and it murders me.

I won't pretend that I am not worried.
But my faith in you destroys that side of me.
You smile and it still saves me.

I let you in when I was weak at heart,
and it wasn't a bad decision.
Even now I feel like I'm falling apart,
But, still without suspicions.

Don't let me go or let me breathe.
Just in case this is all a dream.
Don't let me go. Just help me see.
All these tears just murder me.

Woman in the Woods

fuckatitle

I won't try to argue or develop a sense of virtue.
I won't show my colors if you don't like the hue.
If being me means I'm forced to lose you,
I'm sorry, but I refuse.

This is my last poem I will dedicate to pretending.
I can't waste another moment on building happy endings.
From memory to heart, to trouble comprehending.
I never knew love until the horizon started bending.

Maybe I'll never learn from our misunderstandings.
When falling for you forever is so demanding.
But until there is no one here left standing,
I will enjoy my fall, I don't care about the landing.

And I don't care about rhyming anymore either. I don't care for these delicate words that invoke safe visions and hopes. I don't care about the mitigating factors in arguments. I despise the fake. I will not be one. What the hell is going on in my head. I'm fine. I'm not fine. I'm fine. I'm not fine. I'm fine. I'm not fucking fine. I'm not okay. I'm not content with anything anymore than I am comfortable with conforming. I am slowly losing my patience with myself once again. I am bending my own rules. I am fighting my own nature. I am slowly tearing myself asunder. That means into separate pieces if you didn't know. See there I go. I am tired of losing it. Just be lost already. I can't go on dwelling in this confused state. Who the fuck am I anyway? I've lost sight of certain things about me that were once pride producing traits. Now, an empty shell and a "please leave me the fuck alone" smile has become the object in the mirror. And I say object because I barely feel like a person anymore. A person has substance and intent and control. I have none of these. I have excuses, rationalizations, minimizing techniques, and an unhealthy urge to prove myself worthy of redemption. I can't focus on my aspirations. I am preoccupied with telling myself to "breathe, it will all be okay someday." When? When will it be okay? I don't know and it's killing me. Day to day to day to fucking day. This isn't even me searching for sympathy. This is me having a revelation as I write. Holy hell man. What have I become? Am I just a bastard? A self defeating bastard? Or am I saving myself from this rose tinted snow globe? Am I tearing myself from the bonds of false hopes and unreasonable dreams? Or am I realizing my dream of being satisfied with the person I've become. Either fucking way, I can't make everyone happy. I know this and I will approach life in the manner of cautious caring mixed with a greedy heart. I will be there...if you are there for me. Enough fucking said for now. Let's see what the fuck tomorrow has in store for Mr. Malice.

I just hate people sometimes.

Let's pretend that I closed my mouth to fit in, and all the words were lost behind this facade of a grin. Just imagine, what would my life be like then, if I never chose to scrape a page with a pen. I'd be another silent victim of the world once again. Maybe once upon a time when Wonderland was a place, a physically attainable way to escape. I might have held my breath just to capture the sights, but I never left my heart behind for what's right. But, let's make believe for a night, that I took a knife and offered up my heart to be sacrificed. Let's pretend that everyone was my friend like before and I would never have to chase another tear to the floor. Who would I be then? Would I be someone less or would I be something more? Would I feel this passion that's burning through my heart or would I be as numb as a collection of scars? A saint behind bars, or a lost superstar, surrounded by followers waiting to rip me apart. That life is too large. A victim I am not, nor will I ever be. I've already tasted the scent of recovery. I can't think about the things that smother me. I'm too far ahead. That was the other me. I can't focus on the effects of my faults if I remain unaffected as a result of my thoughts. This is not the way these two paths should be crossed. I have to feel this pain before my emotions are lost. It's the drive and the force. It's the plot and the course. It's the sweat in my palms and the blood on the floor. I can't pretend that I'm okay when I refuse to conform. So I cherish all the pain and use it up like a whore. Drink it all in to spit out on the floor, in ways these fake bastards never seen before. There's something magical to me about reality. There's nothing like embracing your own mortality. I'd never ask anyone to bow down to me. Just stand up for the reasons your heart has a beat, as it moves your blood like a stream that screams until the seams stitched through your dreams come apart by dark means, in ways that collapse your veins and it's too hard to restart when the truth is to blame like a shadow of doubt across every friendly face. It makes you recognize who was there for the pain and that isn't okay, when everyone you trust decides to leave you this way. Open up your mouth with all the things you should say, be the messenger that shoots back with a rage. With a pen and page, splatter ink on the stage, kill off every character that you've ever played because you were a slave, you were deprived so let's be depraved. Let's pretend for real with the no intentions to save the ghosts of our past, memories of the fake. Let's be ruthless with no compassion or regard for anyone that treads on a broken man's heart. But, imagine if I was just another simple mind, oblivious to the world beneath all the lies. I'd be as fake as the next pair of eyes, only opening my mouth to say, "No, no. Everything here is fine." Give me a fucking break...I just hate people sometimes.