watch me burn .

(copyrighted image)

i really want to walk through fire, BUT THERE'S NO FUCKING AVAILABLE FIRE AROUND

me.

i guess it'll just have to burn inside .

;[signed]

my breath

will be as real as ever.

when existance is the realest

truest

illusion,

the most pure lie you will ever encounter

and when we just breath the same air as everyone else

and die just to become part

of the rest of this unblinking world

what is your excuse for breathing?

when so few people can confirm my existance,

and just about no one could tell them who I really am

really

what is this breath

that keeps the muscle beating?

you will wait your whole life only to always realize that they made you

all wrong

that never can you become

anything more.

(than a copy of a copy of a copy of a copy)

my breath remains a bad imitation

coming out of a lung

that serves no other purpose

than keeping me

alive.

living when you could be dying

dying when you could be living.

(because one is not complete without the other)

yesterday, today, and an unknown date .

(edited copyrighted image)

Bandaged Daze.

None of the gas and the trash inside of me crash.

My pain has become a stain, a rash i can't bash.

I just want to throw my guts at the washed wall!

another phase set ablaze is just another stall

for mental death and upcoming rental wretch

and for every little harsh hazard going to fetch

out the empty burnt holes from our human souls.

Its camouflage to the vile pile of mind-made coals.

It feels like I came back bandaged from my head to toe,

But all the cuts on me are healed, ain't nothing to show.

And this is just an illusion, a delusion that I do not want,

But why on earthling's mingling does it haunt and taunt?

i don't recognize all of the world's colours, but I can fake;

And shade in tones for my skin to cover my truth at stake.

They say I don't style a genuine smile through this dirt pile,

But I do tend to pretend that everything is in a normal rile.

Stuck in my own picture, where is the vanishing point?

What's making it exist, where is the banishing point?

It's a portrait, a mirror that breathes, it walks, it talks.

It peeps, it beeps, it weeps, its own madness stalks.

Because I'm stuck in a maze, in an heating haze,

And its ruining my day's flow, a nauseating laze.

I keep running in circles and this feeling will not go,

But I can't figure out exactly why I'm feeling so low.

i don't know what to do with all these feelings and emotions anymore.

i'm wanting to fall down the rocks, bleed and puke more on the shore.

pick me up, pick me up from the found ground in the planet round,

because i'm bound to emptiness felt wind drowned in silent sound.

i don't know what to do with all these feelings and emotions anymore,

so i imagine i'm on a parachute that's falling and heading to the floor.

i flare inside of my boiling red face and my itched eyes are on beware.

so pick me up, pick me up, because i'm in the middle of bare nowhere.

;[signed]

it isn't easy .

(copyrighted image)

because all the hocus pocus in my ongoing strife,
is heading me to lose focus on aspects of my life.

Your Own Voice

all this shit takes a hit-
are you good enough?
are you split, are you slit?
cause being tough is rough.

staring off in space,
lost in my every thought.
do i belong in this race?
am i the object you bought?

they look at you for your worth,
and as soon as you do not fit
the guildlines on this dirt, this earth,
its difficult to stand up and not sit.

sit and sulk, cause you ain't the hulk;
apparently, you don't have any power.
cause once again, the shame is the bulk
that makes you unable to get up and shower.

no matter what anybody actually says,
you tried and died once again, and
somehow got stuck right next to the whiz;
and every taste in your mouth goes bland.

unaware of the time, what day, what week
this even is? all you know is that what you seek,
but they called you weak, they called you meek.
and you stand the edge, you reached the peak.

keep questioning yourself, should you turn back?
their bubble voices bursting in your blasting ears!
maybe your anger will put you back on a track;
until you re-appear, and your own voice leers.

;[signed]

tattoo your every belief, just don't make it a random relief .

(copyrighted image)

Do You Believe?

If you believe in reincarnation,
they say babies are born in a situation,
where they remember their past lives,
for their first two years as mind archives.

If you believe in religion,
and aren’t in confusion.
Have faith if its real,
it isn’t a free meal.

if you believe in abortion,
and don’t follow traditional distortion.
Unborn babies should be killed,
Unless their life support is thrilled.

If you believe in justice,
because luck doesn’t suffice.
Don’t wait, or wait forever.
the option might be never.

If you believe in peace,
Remember our life’s lease.
it’s a one-man show,
For himself, he will flow.

if you believe in this world,
there’s a baby inside of you twirled.
It’s skeleton is crying,
its unconnected bones are dieing.

;[signed]

Printed on your Umbrella .

+/

(copyrighted image)

My Umbrella.

under my umbrella, I’m safe, I’m protected
away from this world, before I am segregated.

on our own, nothing matters; not even what goes on in other worlds.
but, the black sheep fantasizes of being part of any of the herds.
in our known, nothing shatters because the umbrella lingers.
but, the black sheep realizes she doesn’t have any fingers.

under my umbrella, I’m better, I’m arrogant.
away from this world, before I am shunt.

I say ‘worlds’, because I don’t mess with what I don’t understand.
cause I can barely be given a hand in this known world headstand.
knock, knock, knocking on fear to leer and make me want to disappear.
shock, shock, flocking by ear, to hear and shake me haunt to appear.

under my umbrella, I’m deep, I’m hollow.
away from this world, before I am shallow.

I don’t want to be the same, but I want 'in' the game.
I don’t want to be the shame, but nor will I be tame.
I don’t want to be alone, but I can’t share anything.
and now i tie myself to try treating horrors like a fling.

under my umbrella, I’m no-one, I’m someone.
away from this world, before I am undone.
under my umbrella, I shoot myself.

;[signed]

(from terry's diary)

I touch the fire and it freezes me
I look into it and its black
Why can't i feel
My skin should crack and peel
I want the fire back

Now through the smoke she calls to me
To make my way across the flame
To save the day or maybe melt away
I guess it's all the same

So I will walk through the fire
'Cause where else can I turn
I will walk through the fire
And let it burn.


'Cause she is drawn to the fire
some people will never learn

We'll see it through its what we're always here to do
So we will walk through the fire


So one by one they turn from me
I guess my friends can't face the cold (What can't we face)
But why I froze
Not one among them knows (If we're together)
and never can be told

So one by one they come to me
the distant redness as their guide
But what they'll find
Ain't what they have in mind
It's what they have inside.

.

(from Buffy the Vampire Slayer)

.

for you, my dearest.