Another brand new day, a chance to start again
But if i did so then I'd have to discard all this pain
And as much as it pains me to hold it like so,
Without this experience I'd have nada to show

No stories to tell, no stories to share
No stories from drunken lips spilled without a care
You want to know the truth of it, the world is often cold
And those among us oftentimes succumb to icy holds

I've done so too, dragging my feet
Every day was an encore, every hour on repeat
So the days came, and so too they left
Nothing but a hollow sorrow leaking through my chest

Porcelain became my actions, stone become my face
A facade for my every move, a wolf with naught to chase
The darkness in the skies became the darkness in my eyes
As the darkness in the night became the darkness held inside

Shadows grew longer, so too did my inaction
An enzyme gone cold, with minimal reaction
This lethargy that enveloped every thought that crossed my mind
I crossed off all the pain and laughed, urged the struggles to hide

So struggle i did, so exhausted i grew
A plant of my previous self, all i did was grow roots
Stuck into the Earth with no intention to leave
I found myself worthless, this became my belief

And when i crossed out all my mistakes
These actions shown through carelessness made
An S.O.S called for, a flare launched in the sky
Shining ever brighter than the stars that lit the night

Uprooted and carried, burden i felt
Looking at my limbs satisfied with damage dealt
But hungrily lust for more, so more and more i drew
My laughter marked upon my arms in delirium renewed

Every step and every breath has pushed me off the edge
Until i fell and climbed back up, learned to walk again
My funambulism established, my lifetime the ropes
That once upon a time wound its way around to choke

With every moment left behind, my resolve grows evermore
Mentally i mark myself rather than count a bladed score
And when I've had enough, I'll not give up no more
I have a divine partner whom i love to my very core

And so I'll drag myself upright, so that i die with dignity
And make every day feel like a brand new beginning
Forgive my troubled actions, wish away my pain
Wash away these scars, and let us start again

This flower cut,
Whilst in full bloom,
Now rests in peace,
Within this tomb.

In early eighteen-forty-four,
In Cornwall’s heart; on Bodmin Moor,
Charlotte Dymond, a young farm maid,
Had her throat slit with a steel blade,

She crossed fast streams and deadly bogs,
Found her way through mists and fogs,
But couldn’t stop that fatal blow,
That stole her life and laid her low,

She walked to meet someone that day,
Just who that was ... no one would say,
Found days later beside a track,
Laid on a cart; her shroud a sack,

The surgeon, Thomas Good, was fetched,
Had in his mind, her white face etched,
Charlotte untouched by fox or crow,
Had she been moved ... he did not know,

No evidence was ever found,
But her young boyfriend had gone to ground,
Fingers so quick to point his way,
Matthew Weeks panicked; ran away,

The hapless *******, was soon caught,
No other culprit was ever sought,
The judge was just a rubber-stamp,
Bodmin Gaol was dark and damp,

The scaffold built, the crowds arrived,
Matthew swore he had not lied,
The floor gave way, the rope drew tight,
Was justice done ... the verdict right?

Time is such
an imp,
such a
prankster.

When something
fearful
is to come,
he skips
and races
just out of reach,
until,
in chasing him,
suddenly,
multiple weeks have passed
without realizing.

But if you're
highly anticipating
an event,
he ambles along
tripping you up
over and over,
and you wonder
how it could possibly still be the same day.

Does he find our frustration amusing?

3 weeks left,
only 3
to inhale you
and forget what you mean to me.
3 weeks left,
only 3
to forget of your existence
just to be able to breathe.
3 weeks left,
only 3
and now that I've identified,
it's no one else's fault;
you're the pain clawing through me.
And I could cry forever
to sad tunes who might
understand me better
than any person could,
for you I would,
Or I could take my shattered heart,
and smother it with dirt;
create beauty from the hurt.

There is violence
In this silence
In the words that you don't speak

Accusation
In excommunication
That lasts for months and weeks