I Am...

I am a skitz; a schizophrenic lover with such a delicate touch and untold, untied lies that span as long as my lifeline. Tied together until knotted, always pursuing the pull, until the tension has cracked, leaving scars. Porcelain cracked smiles. I am left behind to rot, a corpse, a body with no limits, besides the one we claim to understand ourselves. "I can't wait to die" an expression, however I do not fear death, therefore, I wait, I live. Seizing in and out of this consciousness that should not be scientifically studied by each individual that possesses expression. If everyone really knew how much they really mean. Mean to me. Dan says to do something you love for a minute a day and see where it takes you. what was the best minute your day consumed. What do you drive for, what is that racing factor that keeps you and your mind coming back for me, screaming wake me up inside! I am a recovering paraplegic. Lost awareness, lost all feeling. My limbs linger carelessly over obstacles that challenge only my state of mind. Blood flow. Blood flood. Blood pump. Blood pulse. I can feel again on occasion where the air clicks on and goosebumps rise, stubborn shake, or stubborn step I can only take in your direction. I become so much more aware. Paranoia Strikes! Two words that I find as fitting as yours in my hand. Love is all you can offer though. I've now become a cancerous risk inducer, activating my worse fears, with no other option than to enjoy it. I can become what you want me to be. Meet me at the park. I react accordingly despite what you say. I am over-obsessive, self diagnosed with OCD, keeping everything inside. Governed thoughts possess all aching authority. In the end it didn't even matter. I tried so hard while unfiltered thoughts unravel into irrationality. You can't help what you feel. You can't halt or hate what you feel. You'll loose y o u r s e l f. Drowning in Depression. Depression Doses. Doused Depression Daily. I am living backwards. sdawrof yllaer si hcihw. But people are just living in a state of confusion, illusion minds created from the rash rage that is empowering. An empire brewing your originality into a beverage, easily swallowed, questionably digestible but most commonly just investable. Sucks you in then spits you right back out. I believe everything I hear but for other reasons than yours. I see clearer when your merely drawn down. I am a photographic mind. Remembering that slight flicker in your eyes. Every aspect of you is now mind. (end)

long lost lovers

questions

can true religion be repurposed? maybe in a sense it was never there to begin with a new sense of faith and forgiveness can fate be like bait? being like an apostle: an advocate of a particular idea, so yes.

Mr. Hue-man

I and my crusader king are now happily ever after. Our true religion repurposed, our fate like bait, we'll sit back stare through those windows to your eyes. Heard a panda scream bloody murder after you, Dan, tore it's head off because we got into a fight. But those stitches you've sewn for me, because of me, grants the innocence I sense when I'm with you. I pray to God I hear you all the time. Riding in the storm on the back of a stallion named Nahko... on our journey, I'm just a human being peaceful, with my knife by my side. I'm feeling this, so I blink one hundred and eighty two times. When I'm riding my wave, protect me with hands that carry nothing but faith. Teach my how to swim, so I can learn how to save a life. I've been sharing my situation, calling for a certain internal ethereal existence changing it's cut, it's outcome with all of your sounds soaring around my head, in and out. Whatever this feeling is next to being paid, doesn't compare, not even close. Where are your people? I will learn to see you peaceful, but will you beg for war at my doorstep. take my wallet, chain dangling, I'd be punk, I'd be a punk ass bitch for you. Sweetie. All my doors, I'm just crossing my fingers to have a call, to have you come, to be swept away. Lost and insecure, you found me lying on the floor, why'd we have to wait? When friendships carry out to sea like no other. Will cover the songs I find blown away in the breeze.....amen.

are we just being touched,

or are we at war? mon, when you see through those eyes i swear it was as i was running back to meet you when you told me to keep my ipod closer than menu i rambled for a right on until i was tempted to move if you wanna on a broken stage dant pen me dant cant me pending on a promise