Red Bird

Red Bird Red Bird
Calling for your mate
Munching on the bread in trees
Is your darling late?
Is she off flying somewhere
in the sky, is she?
Cry Bird Red Bird
You're last to die indeed.

in the hospital

the beautiful words we once created so we could talk...well now we're lining them up inside our hearts because we feel so alone. The point of the words was communication, wasn't it? but who's using them to speak anymore.
We're using them to complain,
to cry.
To explain just how alone we feel,
when really, just outside...

I mean, they really are a beautiful thing, words. In themselves, a coded poet lying inside our worded thoughts.
Animals, do they have them?
Does the sky?

But we're greedy, and as easy as it is to say hello, to say goodbye...
we're greedy and we're silent, and we abuse our creations.
There's so much beauty in our words,
but could there be more in the silence?

wake UP

And to the people who said I'd never make it
thanks. You're probably right so you might as well shoot me now
because there's absolutely NO CHANCE I'll make it past this moment,
right? It's impossible for me to do anything
but do you actually understand that you and I have very different ideals? Do you get that I'm only looking for a roof somewhere else and a field, and some paper? Some paper, a pen, some charcoal. I'm looking for the nights where I'll sit by the fire, and you're looking for the newest gadgets in your pocket, the newest the best... YOU CAN LOOK FOR MONEY AND FAME AND you can look to be sane
but you and I have very different ideals indeed.

Death, you see as dying. And dying you see as bad but
we die every day. Parts of us fall and our skin regenerates, and EVERY NIGHT YOU DO WAKE UP
right? Right but now tell me how that's not dying

and tell me
how because I'm not living
and I haven't succeeded

BUT DO YOU ACTUALLY KNOW
anything? For me to live this far

okay so we go so far and we'll have so far to venture yet (from here)
but I'm surprised I'm not already
"dead".

The hours between 7:30am and 9:00pm seem worse and worse every second and counting down the minutes isn't helping me at all. I wanted to be more stable, not less. I wanted to be able to wake up in the morning with less regret than more, and last night was in fact another nightmare.
ANOTHER.
This isn't helping at all.

longfellows

Around every corner, oh. Every time a light flashes, every time we move an inch...fuck. 

I'm waiting on it, letting the fear build up and

it's only getting stronger.

The anticipation is killing me

just take me already. 

The empty frame...
it's an image the whole world works for
but I guess they haven't realized
it's nothing.
Atoms.
But they never put the picture in
what a clever little fucking trick.

...but

The ivory skin of monsters

an ivory adolescent

in the words I cannot say.

"I love you...but." 

BUT and I don't

and I'm sorry.