Awake In My Dream


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In the name of sleep,
These dreams will be kept alive.
When the chase has halted,
Something wrong has arrived.

A waste!

But what else is to be done?

So pauses, but never stops.
Even when the light is red; the sign is an octagon.
Even when fear stands in the middle of this dark, lonely road

Hinged to this potential
Lost in this dream, I am.
But you will never catch me sleeping.


I’m always working on something.

Young Blood


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A trick of blood trickling down my palms,
Give me your hands

Your soul strapped in the barrettes clipping your hair shut
It longs to scream, shout and fly with the clouds
But you won’t let it.

A sinister flower killing your light little by little
Surrender all of you, as you do every day,
And taste my blood; the soul of youth.
Retrieving the truth long lost in your soul

Let me bestow youth upon you.
Feel young once again so you’ll drown in your emotions
Jump to the clouds and land in a pool
Back first. While starring at the sky

Feel young, once again.
Taste my blood.
Then, honey, you’ll realize you’ve been living a lie
Because, tonight,
You are young.


Stay as young as possible for as long as possible.

So, This Is Goodbye :(


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Say goodbye, my love.
My thoughts enraged
My feelings revolting
To escape in tears

Say goodbye, former partner.
Uncertain of my wants
Pushing you away
The farther you go
The harder I pull

Say goodbye, dear friend.
This termination is best
Though my heart won’t rest
A piece of you is needed in me

Say goodbye, my soul.
Before I survive your absence
I might in every sense
Lose myself first


Here’s a song I think of whenever I lose someone I once loved: Click here.

Rain Parade


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Cloudy skies
The sun dies

Gentle orchestra on my window
I have fallen far below

The moist, the tears
The parade in my ears

Are we finally sober?
Or are we sobbing?

Sliding down the glass
I swear, this is my last

Until the sun has risen
To silence my siren

This rain will drop
Sorrow won’t stop.


Click here for link to picture.

How To Save a Life


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Save a life by remembering your blessings, your faults,
And the times you denied that you ever had any
You will then understand what you see

Leave your urges on the sidewalk
Go inside the space that you created
Then create space to draw on the wall

Cut the strings of restraint from your fingers
This is what you call freedom
We are not puppets; you, a puppeteer.

Next time you lift your arm, grab the edge of a cloud
Find the message of the souls lost too soon
Maybe they found the knowledge needed To Save A Life.


Black Angel


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So you’ve fallen.
Your bones growing weak
Flesh vividly sick.

But moments ago, you were at the peak of the world
Dominating altitudes the common thought to be uncommon.
You used to rain pride
On the bruised will and spirit

You used to matter, my black Angel

So you’ve fallen.
All your glory has plunged
If failure was the liquid, you’d be the sponge

Your wings have exploded
Ashes of patches and pieces of memory
From a time when “god” was an understatement

Drink your regrets away, my black Angel.
Until this serum floods your conscience
Beliefs that you’re still at glory

All you’ve wanted was to leave a mark
On their soul; fill their hole
Until they feel your spark

But your glory is no more.
You possess nothing but memories

So you’ve fallen, my black Angel.


Good Bye, Friend


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Everyone who I’ve felt strongly about—whether family, friends, romantic relationships, or something in between—have all left me with something, after we parted ways, that will follow me for a long time, if not the rest of my life. As for you, it’s a few things. It’s you consistently taking the time to express gratitude for something, anything—even if it doesn’t directly impact you. It’s your care for Earth and society, even as it crumbles around you. It’s your care for yourself, too. It’s your soft touch and your admirable passion and commitment. It’s you being present. The passion and attention you give to others. You’re raw too. It’s like mama Earth made you herself, so you’re not able to be anything except for raw, natural, and spiritual. Each time that I called you pretty or beautiful, that’s what I meant. Each time I pointed out the galaxies in your eyes, that’s what I saw.

But the thing about you that I’m sure will stay with me the longest is how you always took the time to appreciate the flowers on the edge of concrete—things that the average Joe and Mary walk by every day without noticing, probably. It’s not to say that you stop to smell the roses, but it’s more that you make sure to give the proper attention and acknowledgement to the flower that push through and grew from the concrete. That says a lot about you, and I look forward to practicing that in my own life. Thank you.


Midnight Library


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Boo me
Or boo to you.
A scare-tastic fanatic,
Sometimes fantastic
Others, terror-ific.

Results of a drain in my head
My brain eaten by confusion zombies
Due dates chasing me—
I’m due for a date with the dead if I get out of line.

Horrors I have brought upon myself
Are now awakened—all through this night.
So I’ll remain. Focused as could be
As this night prolongs. Like the sea

Until forever—until darkness forgets
The possibilities of light
Until we become:
Skeletons with webbed lamps,
Ghosts on dusty shelfs.