Silent GrayIve seen the way you look at heavenSilent Gray6 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
and try to water the stars.
Because in your mind, flowerpots extend themselves to moons and planets.
And the way you observe obstacles is like
the way a sun set licks the horizon.
The clouds, in your sky, will never be late.
They say give until youre empty.
Far from it, though. Ive never seen you half empty
except for nights when youre all alone
and crying doesnt water the stars anymore.
Ive never seen you hurt so badly
when someone else is yelling down the hall.
And hair, like an angels, gets tangled in fists
and strangled into reality like a hunted rabbit.
Please, dont look too far back.
Not when the stars are calling you this loudly,
letting you know that you are not alone.
Youll make it out.
Even when your clothes feel damp and drag you down,
like magnets in a science project,
testing the laws to be sure they still exist-
Youre more than science.
drugs like methe radio pulses indrugs like me6 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
my ears, i drive. eyes
constant, magnified on
i want to tell a story
to the person in the car
next to me
down these wandering lanes
how pensive i am now
that it is evening
how autumn makes me horny
how i am waiting for sun
to set below the horizon
how i want it all
how i prayed last night
like i never have before
Diary of a SchizofrenicRest content if you please, willful soul of mine.Diary of a Schizofrenic6 years ago in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
I promise my life under you shall refine.
To scourge from my head all the evils I carry.
And set free my night shadow, blackest Canary.
I know my place under multiple rules.
My own sanity picked apart by slip folds and tools.
A battle waged onward, one of civil type.
And careful assassins, sinners do snipe.
Rages and fits fill my physical world.
Snippings of prudence becoming unfurled.
Alone in my ways, isolated by far.
Too cliche to bounty man made scar.
Rhymes and riddles in my own lanes of thought.
In perfection of hysteria woefully wrought.
An execution of sorts, lonely gallows of the mind.
And sleepy as wore teeth gnash and grind.
Bleeding mouths spurt pretty lies.
And open up their miscreant eyes.
I wrangle my fears and seduce the truth.
And avert inner eyes of my soul wrenching sleuth.
I beg for her sleep, his eternal open sores.
And finally lock in my prisoners' doors.
Compromise never works quite so well.
When the disagreeing s