Tricky.

You think you're tricky but you're really not tricking anyone, foolish maybe because baby. you are still the foolish one.  Trapped in a maze that your denial weaved, wrapped in a web of lies caused by your own deceit and disease.  Sure, you can play house with any Tom, Dick, or Harry but at night when it's cold, and you feel lonely, it's just scary.  Traumatized by me?  No, accept fault for once, you were too weak to try me, which is why you've failed more than once.  A part of me, let's call it naive, believed that one day we could achieve serenity but those thoughts are now bereaved.  Your careless vehicle carried my heart as its passenger until the last day; right now, when I have released myself from your boughs, I am ready to throw down.  Temporary insanity brain of yours tried to tell me that you missed what was not just once, but twice already yours.  You have used up all your coupons now though, which explains why you're running around town with all those other whores.  Silly of me to think that you could ever be the one, when on my dreariest of days, I still outshone you more than the sun.  You have the nerve to come back and request that I let the birds that circle above your corpse get the best and just leave you to your death?  Done.  I am tired of playing this game for one.  Enjoy getting ravaged by savages and such, with me, you were a blessing, now you just looked cursed to the touch.

Hope.

There is a tiny voice at the deepest darkest void that calls out for hope although it is one I often avoid.  Instead I poison myself with alcohol, intoxicating me until I am irrelevant, and oblivious yet I am not insidious.  I want to listen to the voice within that beseeches me to stop my sins but instead I have another drink, numbing the pain and silence, consistently on the brink.  On the verge of something exciting yet always a few steps back, it is almost as if I dare to react and risk undergoing my own personal massive attack.  I am unsure how to continue when I can feel my heart breaking in my chest, shattering into a million pieces; why couldn't it be as easy for me as it is for the rest?  My journey has led me to fleeting moments of hope where I could feel a new sun dawning on my day but then it has also victimized me, raped me, beaten me, and made me its prey.  I am only human, how much more am I supposed to take?  How much must I be forsaken by God's salacious snake?  It bites me on the daily, proof for all that I have done wrong, yet I continue to march along, smile plastered upon my face llke nothing could possibly go wrong.  I pray one day I listen to this voice that calls for hope so that I can become one with my future and no longer viewed as a joke.  Tunnel vision heart of mine just sees what lies ahead, but at this rate all that I can see is another sibling dead.

Gone.

I hear you in the silence that has replaced your vibrant voice, and in the emptiness that remains, it is an all-encompassing void.  Your laughter fills the rooms of the house that I live in, it has failed to stay a home, even the walls seem to be sealed with suffering.  The shadows at night conceal you, tricking my cognition into thinking that it was just a dream but then I see your picture and I am forced to accept that all that glitters is not necessarily what it may seem.  In my mind's eye, I envision you, always looking your best; decked out to the nines, you were in a class above the rest.  The loneliness is daunting as you haunt me everywhere I go, it is even more alarming when I can almost hear you singing along to songs that you loved on the radio.  The sweet scent of your fragrance lingers, stronger than ever before, it ebbs and flows and tickles my nose, confusing my conscience through its thunderous throes.  The flowers bow their heads in respect now that you are no longer here, as isolation has overpowered love, filling my grieving heart with five thousand fears.  For years, this greatest loss of all will be mourned,  though I am  unsure if it is even reperable, as I wish I could rewind time to when we were the best of friends; we were truly inseperable.  We shared the greatest bond in that we understood one another's temperamental brains, which is why we were always so quick to forgive after the outbursts that would pour out of us like acid rain.  Two of a kind, we were such a rare breed yet I am begrudgingly forced to accept that your spirit now resides within the breeze, kissing the trees.  Nothing will ever be the same now that your light has been dimmed like a candle in the wind, I can accept that nature has taken its course but I reject this unrelentless upset that has left me bereft and so grim. You were the greatest love that I have ever known so I must muster all the strength that I have inside to keep my head up as I march on.  Almost two months to the day, yet I still choke and hold back the tears that do not allow me to accept that my most valued friend and confidante is actually gone.

Drive-By.

Satisfied in my own skin, I no longer feel the need to question whether I will encounter an end to my suffering.  Calm, collected, and cool, I refuse to continue to be everybody's fool.  There were days past where my heart's truth leaked from my sleeve until I found the strength within to finally get up and leave.  I am the beauty now although I was once the beast, as I forced myself to realize that I had simply been settling for the least.  Here I rise, growing taller than the trees, I will be sky high, you will even feel my spirit in the warm, summer breeze.  A glimpse into my eyes will take you on a carousel ride, round and round you will go until you confide that if you had even walked a mile in my shoes, you would want to run, repress, and then hide.  My transformation began with accepting my flaws, improving and maturing in the hopes of separating myself from the boy who would laugh in the face of the law.  I outlive, outplay, then outlast the world's best, as I attempt to remain humble enough to not have to attest that I have survived and endured more than the rest.  My demeanour remains the same and my behaviour does not change although I work hard to regain the part of my sanity that will sustain my brain.  They can take my body, but never my soul or my mind; one of a kind, I will not return to being stuck in a bind but instead pretend that I have been institutionalized enough to partake in society's daily grind.  Compassionate soul that I am, and occasionally too kind, I prioritize others' happiness before I even consider mine.  Over, done, I need to move on, as I have strategized methods to capture their pawns.  I would be a king if life was just Chess, as I have learned my lessons; I cannot be a mess. Undressed and nude but never vulnerable or rude, my path will lead to my salvation and hopefully with it, it will bring solitude.  Turn envious green as you see me flying so high, I have accepted my wrath; my sorrow was merely a drive-by.  

Man in the Mirror.

The sullenly sudden separation between sword and stone were sadly signifying that we were both growing old.  The vibrancy in your eyes has started to grow dull, as your determination, and drive for life have suddenly come to a lull.  I look at you and no longer see the passion that once lived behind your eyes, no longer see the little man who had the biggest plans.  Has life been this bad to you?  To make you lose your will to excel?  Or is it that with each new day, you are miles away from what you came here for anyway and closer to your own personal Hell.  I glance in the mirror and realize that this man is me, yet instead I choose to circumflect, and pretend that he is outside of my own body.  By accepting no fault, the onus becomes anyone else's but my own, taking responsibility for my lack of self-love entails that these sins are not mine to atone.  Blood on my fingers from the crimes I commit, hoping the glove will not fit and that the jury acquits.  Knee deep in my own grime and grit, how much longer will this man allow this to permit?  When will my reflection show who I am inside, instead of revealing the weaknesses and failures from which I have so long attempted to hide?  No concealer or foundation could cover the scars that shroud my heart, only time, the ultimate healer, will allow for me to rise from the ashes and gain a fresh start.  I can no longer accept the man in the mirror that does not reflect the man I am inside, all frustrations aside, I will conquer this Earth, and become a household name, worldwide.

Anew.

These endless tears flow from my eyes and pierce through the paper canvas of my life.  As hard as I try to paint with vibrancy and colour, the blacks and whites overpower my wishes, revealing the sadness that lies dormant, and is undercover.  Every step forward often results in several leaps back, this process repeats until I no longer have the strength to fight back.  Empty vessel heart of mine that overflows and leaves me inept, carelessly reveals the emotions that I have tried so hard to repress.  I know that I am stronger, I have taken beatings worse than this, yet despite the knowledge that I possess the power of Thor, somehow, something remains amiss and leaves me yearning for more.  It consistently pulls me into the darkest abyss, that tears up my insides, and uncovers the memories which I refuse to relive or  reminisce.  I am only human, there is only so much I can take before I am filled with thunder, and the anger within awakes.  It shakes me to my core, causing earthquakes and tremors that roar, but in the end, I am all that I abhor upon coming to the realization that I have become my own rage's repugnant whore.  So what now?  Do I fight the urge within that makes me want to pull each hair out of my head strand by single, sickening strand?  Or do I take a stand, and ensure that I will rise the better man?  I am a king, yet I choose to live like a peasant.  I was born with wings, yet I crawl on the ground with all that is unpleasant.  I refuse, as of right now, to allow this to ensue.  No more bitterness, or blues, no giving in to the remorse or guilt that have the capacity to leave me dazed and confused.  From this very moment, I vow to make the change that I will not engage in the dance of the deranged.  I am strong enough to mend, and once again, promise myself that I will be my very own best friend.  

War.

You infantile, prepubescent, pathetic little child, why do you play at staying calm, when it's clear to observers that your emotions are running wild?  You claim to be the most stunning, although your beauty is hardly even mild.  Give up the act and foolishness, it is starting to become quite tired.  Despised through all the land, you are most similiar to the king who has played his last hand.  Like a genie annoyed with granting wishes, your wishes are no longer my command.  I have given in to your last demands, and see that, now more than ever, you are hardly a man.  Lost little boy with your bag full of lies, open your eyes and realize that you are despised.  Your inability to accept fault is murdering your allies, as you acquired the inability to shock, your failed attempts for attention are no longer a surprise.  Once, you were a prize, now you are a curse, no longer a blessing, but quite the reverse.  Stuck on repeat, your lessons are more similar to mistakes, as they rewind, then replay, it is too late to activate the brakes.  Your engine stalls in those fleeting, hopeful moments in between, but then your eyes lose their light again, and all I can see within is gangrene.  You are rotten to the core, and that is why you are rotting, it is no longer hard to guess what are you up to, or deceitfully plotting.  Unreliable to the end, keep drowning your many sorrows and sins, as you watch helplessly as your friends fall to the ground like bowling pins.  You will surely end up alone crowded in a room full of strangers, and the saddest part is that you are aware yet choose to ignore all of the danger.  Continue to dance blindly, staggering back and forth between farce and delusion, anyone that is fooled by your stupidity has fallen for the illusion.  You project this image of one who is self-assure yet in confidence and secrecy, you admit that you are searching for a cure.  You are a cancerous growth, that I need to cut off, you have filled my lungs with nicotine, and become the black tar that makes me cough.  Avast, adieu, you have poisoned me for the last time, goodbye, I hate you, I have finally rebelled, and put an end to your war crimes.