HRT

I indulge in your vanity
feed off your pride
your trials keep me sane
please don't stop being vain.
I live on your two seconds of fame.

I can't take this pain alone
I desperately need your needles to feel at home.

On my own, all I have is you
we bleed just the same
tears have similar tastes
but travel a different face
all for the same reasons
I know you feel my lesions.

please don't stop being vain.
I live on your two seconds of fame.
I breathe in your insanity
to keep me sane

until I breach my veins
to cease my pain

they'll watch us
and do the same.

they live off the vain.

Where The Other Things Are

My New LiveJournal

Sorry, the setup of a website heavily affects
how likely I am to post there.
I prefer Lj to blogger.
So, that's where most of my stuff goes!
thanks :D

Periodically

I desire changes.


Whether it be new things or the old rearranged. I seek change.
Within myself I expect the most.
I must have new thoughts, new tastes, new desires, new needs.
So I venture into my thoughts,
explore the outside world
with the intention to feed
my constant need for change.

Georgia

I went to my Fathers house many times with the intentions to express myself musically. But many of those times, he was asleep and I didn't want to wake him. So I'd opt out to sit in the living room with my Grandmother, whose memory is slipping quickly. Quite saddening. I never though I'd see the day. 

carpe diem

like my eyes in a distant gaze, I become unfocused and lose sight of what lies ahead of me. but instead of being startled by my loss of focus, should I not welcome the temporary indulgence in this very moment of life?

-underneath the stars-

{with you} 

bad habits

 where I will lay.. until you decide to wake up..




despite not ever resting last night, this morning, I woke up. I am beyond tired of the way I have been feeling. sick of hating every part of my being and pretending to love instead. been sleeping the days away simply to avoid myself. I've allowed myself to walk the earth as a dead man. how could I be the one to rob myself of my own life? my soul. my will to live slowly dwindled away as I relied on specific dates to bring me to life. but I am alive! I may not feel like the man I know myself to be, but I am alive. I am here. how dare I be the one to silence myself? I've brought more pain and destruction upon myself than anyone in my life ever has.

Lost or Brainwashed

Propshuass. Youtube

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oD3vdyBTvBU

holding on.
anticipating some kind of change. He asked if it were our brains, would we alter it? Ultimately changing who we are. Erasing our experiences and ridding of all acquired knowledge. Could I trade it all? Would I on a whim, sacrifice it all to be with him? This body is mine. This life is mine. Would I be wiling to trade it all to change my mind? Ask me on different days and I'm bound to give you a different answer every time.

Identity Crisis

written
Saturday, April 19, 2008 at 2:55am

*sigh*




i simply wish to be
more like me
and less like you


not as eager to consume your food
not too sure about what it has gone through

claustrophobic

its like waiting to take that first breath. inhale life into your lungs and finally become one with the world and yourself.life walks all over you and by the time you finally decide to take a stand, you're exhausted. I'm so tired. I want to live but I'm so tired.

-Cide

my face went numb again.
the sobs scratched my throat
inhaled so hard it hurt
what if I blacked out behind the wheel...
as I did on the floor in Pittsburgh?

I say I don't know why I cry
but I know damn well why.

oh suicide.

Daily

stare into the eyes of a stranger
trying to find a hard edge
hoping the shadow will darken and spread
razors span across skin with hope in hand
anticipating to one day to look just like dad

Rotten Seeds - Dysphoria

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=k6EqDkk7X0Q

this skin makes me crawl

it makes me ache.

and I sink when I think of

what happened on the 8th

month of the year

6th day of the month

in 89 at 10:11 am.

or was it at conception?

Support

can greatness be achieved by a mind that never sleeps, a heart that regularly weeps with eyes that often seep? On nights he rests, he wakes beneath cold pillows and to soft shoulders that have the tendency to turn. Into weathered hands paired with rough voices but blind eyes that have long lost their ability to find solid ground where light is scarce, he seeks comfort but only finds emptiness and uncertainty. & on an unsteady path least traveled.. despair is inevitable. Faith has been abandoned and all hope has been placed into his intuition to lead him in right direction.

What ever is the right direction?

The Fights

I sleep amid the grounds that were once the battle zone
--How can I not remember?
I hear the cries echo off the walls,
see the tears that stained these sheets..
--How could I forget?
My thoughts remain stained with her blood.
My heart beats to the rhythm of her heaving.

--How could I?--