Let Go

She walks across the lawn
Into the dusk
Out of the dawn
Holds tight feathers of the past
Lets them go
Sails behind the mast

What is this paragon of perfection?
She asks staring into the sun
In it's entirety
She sees a reflection
and thinks
"This is starting to feel fun"
Looking away, she squints to re-adjust
In this new vision she begins to trust
Within this complexity
She finds herself enamored
Putting a face to the name
It feels like home, she finally won.

At last, she thinks of broken wings
And for the last time,
She remembers how it stings.
Only after she has let it all go
She finds the face to this name
and decides to let the wind blow

To Ishvara

I hear the drip
and it sounds like shit
they tried to hide it
but it slipped
from broken hearts and mangled spaces
What is this drip that makes me so sick?
it fills up all the incomplete places
and feeds the virus of worn out faces.
without a warning
the drip leaves its traces
and falls into our devastated graces

That is the drip that makes me so sick.

Abundantly

you'll never live life
abundantly
i don't think you'll ever really see
that what you think you really need
is just a ploy for a mothers good deed.

i tried to help you in your ways
and re-align the track
in your dizzier days

i tried so hard
expended all the words
that would allow you to understand
the damage you've incurred

but you called me abstract
and that
was that

you said i was a good writer.
but that was that.

i tried to show you in those days
when you were moving through a maze
that its not worth seeking someone else's dream
when they get to be the fabric
and your just the seam

i let your sorrow fill my pages
i figured that natural causes would kill it,
as it ages
blood, sweat, infinite tears
we just lost all the years

you'll never live life abundantly
and this I promise
you will see

omnipotence

i know i make it easy to love me/
i know i make it harder to love you.

i know i make it easy to trust me/
i know I make it harder to trust you.

i know i make it easy to hear me/
i know i make it harder to hear you.

i know i make it easy to want me/
i know i make it harder to want you.

i know,
i know,
i make it harder to want to.

i know i make it easy to believe me/
i know i make it harder to believe you.

i know if life was easier to push through/
it wouldn't mean a thing for me to live through.

Dear Em (Pt. 2)

Appreciate life
you're alive
you're alive

don't
don't
don't complain
that he left you
you're mad
you're confused
so you cry
so you cry
and it hurts

don't
don't
don't
complain
about pain
pain
pain that he left you
fuck him, he left you
you're lonely
you're afraid
so it hurts
so it hurts
and you cry


don't
don't
don't complain
that you're sad
you're sad
he left you
you're lost
you're afraid
so it hurts
and it hurts
and you cry

some people dont feel
they cant feel
what's real

some of those people don't care
they don't care
that they're there

some of those people
can't even cry
they cant cry

some of those people
have no choice left
so they'd rather die

some of those people give death a chance
just to feel that they're alive

On the Tip of My Brain

I'm standing on the tip of my brain/
one foot firmly planted on the ledge,
the other is dangling over the edge
in vain/
I'm balancing between the thought of knowing what I'm saying,
and on the ground I'm staying
or the fear of falling off,
the fear of not knowing how I'm playing/
i really don't know how I'm playing
this game.

Dear Em (Pt.1)

8pm.
She's a quiet desperation,
lonely, impatient.
A mess without consolation,
Running into herself,
over
and
over
the Queen of abdication.

The crown she tossed into the sea of frustration
The crown she lost to the sea of self-mutilation.

She's so full of empty,
sometimes it hurts to try resuscitation.
Sprinting for the bridges,
lest to find them in dis
association.

Insincere in determination,
insufficient heaves and throws
and bottomless blows
to capitulation.
She's dishonest;
She's afraid;
Ignores all intuition

Still,
Our little Pearl of habituation
found her throne in the chaotic
speckled,
dangerous,
whirlwind of disintegration.
And there she goes
she goes
she goes

Still,
The crown she tossed into the sea of frustration,
is the crown she lost to self-mutilation.