I'm laying here

On the floor

Confusion all around

I refuse to move

I'm laying here

Motionless

Emotionless

Waiting for you

I'm laying here

On the spot

Were I know

I'll cease to exist.

It feels like I don't belong here.
But of course, that's due to the romanticism of Life
Placed in a displaced girl,
Surrounded on all sides by emptiness,
Save for a few souls,
Glimmering with pristine pools of hope.
But regardless of my reasons or excuses,
I feel like I belong in here.
I've convinced myself that if I just get far away,
My life will work itself out.
Am I being foolish?
I don't think so.
You see,
People around me feel too young for my mental pallet.
They refuse to accept the chaos
That plays too big of a role in my play
To simply cut out for the sake of who knows what.
They are Boredom, Boredom, Boredom.
And as I see it, boredom is our disease.
It is our generation's Great War.
It is what we won't be remembered for.
I mean, this isn't news to anyone.
Boredom is only a problem because our idea of the solution:
That we have to buy it away.
Money = happiness?
So they have said.
But don't take this with a grain of salt.
Just don't take it at all.
Money is a cult-wide curse
We have inflicted upon ourselves and dragged down humanity with.
It has the evil allure akin to Satan, for you old timers.
You will never buy conversation.
There will never be a price-tag on passion.
Never will you see a sincere lover with dollar-bills in their eyes.
But you know what you can by?
Coked out convos with a lustful hooker.
And apparently that's our M.O.:
Sacrifice sincerity and authenticity for convenience and speed.
We are racing towards death,
And we're about to pay for it,
But I guarantee,
You'll be short on cash.

There's so much noise around me,
Reaching out, clawing at me,
Greedily throwing me to the clouds,
So I might pull them up.
Shake it off.
Focus.
I'm here for a reason.
There's a method here.
A reason to my rhyme,
Though it's long before its time.
Shouting, claws reappearing.
Beggining, demanding, hoping.
Shut up!
You'll ruin it all,
Crash down this castle from the inside,
This castle for you all.
Providence for the patient, no?
Beautiful.
Now I can work.
Perfect my system.
Pulling the strings that lead me/us to our salvation, our freedom!
Wait..
This can't be right...
Double-check.
Triple.
Frantic searching, ending with nothing to hold.
There has to be a way,
Some alternate path.
"There is no other method to achieve victory".
This is my burden now.
This is my fault.
The price I pay for playing on the emotions of heartless men.
Oh, but if only I had a little longer,
Just a little longer to grow them all hearts.
To plant my seeds behind their thick ribs.
Finally, after tears and fury; clarity.
This is...
Necessity.
An inescapable grave that I have dug myself.
"Take me, you fools! But praise God that He bestows upon you the strongest form of ignorance to blind you from yourselves in this state! The moment one of you looks through my eyes, unto this crowd before me, you will see the motivation. Spill my blood, let it wash away these Beasts and make room for the New Humanity!"

Awake while the city sleeps,
Trying to catch up,
not the sunrise,
what a silly idea.
I want to glance the new day.
Surprise him.
He wants to sneak up at us, you see.
But I won't let him.
I want to see him when he gets here.
I want to feel him arrive.
For tomorrow is not 'the next 24 hrs'.
Tomorrow is a metaphorical concept for a new beginning.
Tomorrow is chance to start all over again.
Under a new sun, covered with a new skin.
Tomorrow is in a state of constant arriving,
but if you don't pay attention you might miss it.
It's symbolized better at dawning, so be alert.
The last thing you want to miss out on
is something that may never happen to you again.

There's a hole where certainty once was,
There's is chaos where calm once reigned.

I feel like I'm stuck in a quicksand of time,
Hoping to move on as fast as I sinked.

This feeling for you,
it flows from beneath my skin
and reaches into the very depth of my soul.

you
my dream
a dream I've never dreamed
yet better than the ones I have.
A feeling long pass the body,
a calmness I've never felt,
a need to be close,
attached,
connect,
a need to make you happy,
to give you want you need,
what you deserve.
Me
Your friend,
the one you look at and you hug
yet you don't feel
the warmth I feel
the one you share your feelings with
your secrets
your love for her.
Her
your friends ex lover
the perfect mate,
for you
my good friend
perfect in body
perfect in soul
perfect to your eyes.
Your eyes,
the most wonderful thing,
to me
to fount of my joy
the place i want to be,
forever
the door to a caring soul.
Soul
what you have
and I seem to lack.

Arousal...
Your words in my eyes...
Calmness...
Feeling that you care...
Hesitation...
The uncertainty of your reasons..
Anger...
Your presence in absentia..
Devotion...
For you when you're here..
Fear...
When you are not..
Doubt...
Am I in you're life?
Warmth..
My life is with you...
Heat..
When an oportunity of nearness arrives..
Ectasy...
Consumated encounter.

And here I stand.
Alone I stand.
Watching two perceptual and perpetual realities collide.
I don't look for fame, money nor recognition.
I'll I need is a chance to connect.
Connection with another person in a personal level.
I don't long to be different, you see.
I long not to be indifferent.

Your name is locked in my brain.
Your presence is stuck in my thoughts.
I picture your hands,
Your hair,
Your fingers through it.
I imagine your lips,
Fighting each other,
Biting,
Nervously.
Your body,
Warm and strong,
Gripping,
Grabbing,
Teasing,
Calling me to come closer,
Closer...
Closer...
Closer...
But closer is never close enough....