I see, or so I thought I saw
Something less but something more

I saw, or so I think I saw
Something more out of something less

And I saw what I see now and I see what I saw then
Out of something less came something more

Graved Truths

I’d be lying
If I didn’t try
To tell you the truth
About wanting to lay down
Inside and stew
In my own grave

I’d be lying
If I spilt but didn’t cry
Whenever I needed to escape
This headspace cave
Built from nothing

Hospital Corners

Like a hotel, our bodies are being rented out                                                   temporarily I squander around                                                                                       for rooms that aren’t occupied                                                                                       but every spot is no longer vacant.

As I round the corners, slightly folded                                                                   into eachother like a hospital bedsheet                                                                       I realize that I don’t have Schitzophrenia                                                                 but I have conversations with people who aren’t there

Are they? Maybe they’re all the versions of myself talking to people they used to know.

Caving Ends

I’ve killed off parts of myself to keep others from caving in, ending themselves 
Now I fill those dead ends with their’s to open back up
I walked to the bottom and risen higher than I needed to, fell back and flipped it all over and watched myself sprout 

Lost Ambitions

I turn the corner and there I am even without a mirror

I look up at the stars and                     my past ambitious self creeps up

I walk to the river bank and                 the water reminds me of all the obstacles I haven’t over come yet
I talk to new people and                        all I can think of is how much I’ve lost myself to

Exhalation Masses

Stinging from the slowly growing masses, he decided to keep trudging, thorough and deep strides

Knowingly stomping through the grounds of massacreic meanderings, he didn’t care that his hopes were becoming his own version of hell, created and formed, designed for the soul purpose of getting used to a taste of a place he would soon know

Desire for the rupture, storming approached lessons, he ran through every detail that troubled his empty sockets, charging as he plugged in the waves

Walking, realizing that everything he breathed in were just remnants of everyone else’s exhalations, carrying their burdens and making them his own so that his appeared disadvantaged

He wanted to be invisible only because that’s what he was used to, so he trudged into the place he knew well, the corners of every crevice of every memory and sliced them in pieces, threw them into his veins and slowly drowned them as he was drowning with the loudness of all his thoughts

Venomous Pollination

You looked and I sat here, swallowing the bitter orchids
They were just swaying in the pollinatious sea of venomous weeds

I wanted to drown, oh so beautifully amongst the glowing creatures
But you were flying too high where even the clouds couldn’t see

You said to me, the words your voice had told you, wisdom is not always born with you unless you are wisdom itself
And I dove so far into the wild forestry

I poked my head above the current, flowing so fast, you laughed as you saw panic strucken smacked across my face
And off I went, blowing into the tundras