do something now.

my head is an empty sore
and i'm always alone
everything is a fucking chore
i miss my home
i just want to come home

sleep is cruel and sleep is deceitful

it's so full of empty promises

of tomorrows that are better than yesterday

of a fresh breath brought by a new day

sleep traps moments, distorts reality

replacing it with carefully distorted memories

my eyes are dried out

i can't bear to sleep

the window's been open all night

i'm still pushing it

endless cascades of rain cool the air

and all i can think is, how can it be fair

that in a life already too fleeting

we're condemned to spend half of it sleeping

we're only here


briefly

wouldn't it be nice if you could see to the inside peoples minds
so you could see all those ugly things that people try to hide
and you could see who is stained red, and who is painted blue
so you'd know who not to let the fuck near to you
if people were colours you'd all be black, soaked right through
'cause you're greedy, you're selfish, you're all so fucking cruel
and you envelop, no, you destroy anything that gets close to you

i'm sorry i'm leaving and i'm not taking you with me

you've been waiting for this day for fifteen years, and now it's come, is it all you thought it would be, does it feel how you imagined it would feel. i guess not. hope is a dangerous thing, it should come with a big fucking warning attached. objects in the mirror may be closer than they appear. objects may slam into you fast or they might creep up slow. i'm sorry you're family is gone, i'm sorry that you feel all alone. i'm sorry i'm to blame even though i did nothing wrong. i'm sorry i just can't be who you want. i'm sorry that this is how your life played out, cold, lonely and without. i'm sorry you're an inside out orphan, i'm sorry i'm one too. i'm sorry you stole my mother all those birthdays ago. i'm sorry you turned her into someone i will never know. i'm sorry i don't cry enough, i'm sorry i don't cry at all. i'm sorry that i can't forgive you however hard i try. i'm sorry you don't know how long my hair has got and i'm sorry you can't see all the love i've got. i'm sorry you don't know my favourite song or how i look at 2 in the morning. i'm sorry you can't place the sound of my voice, and you've forgotten my smell. i'm sorry you don't know me at all.
i'm sorry i'm leaving, and i can't see you before i go. please don't die whilst i'm on the road. when i get home i'll call you up, i'll invite you in. you'll have eighteen years to catch up on. i promise i'll write you, i'll let you know. i'm still not all together ready to let you go. and i love you, just so you know, no matter what you stole, no matter who you are. even though you can't count all your wrongs, i still love you, i loved you all along.

it's the worst at night
so i don't sleep anymore
i don't sleep
when you're breathing close to me
quiet and still, invisible in the dark
i run these plays, i watch these movies
they always end the same way
with me crippled, lay on the floor
and you, somewhere, away
i can't bear to think anymore
it picks at my chest, leaving little holes
it rips at my throat, swollen from tensing
i'm always the realist, i know of death
i wish i was ignorant to the worlds end
and i wouldn't know that my life ends with yours
that my light goes with yours
it will come as a surprise, a bullet, a rushed knife
one i've been waiting for, my whole life
if i had it my way, we'd live forever, we'd never die
i love this all too much to let it go
i love you too much to let you go

this cream solstice
it's just an empty space
so bare and pale
nothing, built on a plot of earth
i'm hungry
the fridge is full
i'm cold
the heating's on
my eyes sting constantly
the neighbours look on, curious
they learn to keep their distance
it's too quiet, the outside world
just a low, intermittent, thud
the light outside barely touches the window
the light outside barely fills the room
i'm hungry
there's no food
i'm tired
there's no beds
curtain twitching
i'm sad
there's no one here

ever so gradually emptying the spaces
reserved in my room for all my belongings
trying my best to avoid wondering of places
reserved in my head for endless longings
i feel like i'm not even here
i feel like i've drifted sideways
i'm lost in a different dimension
i am an extension of my real self
i'm clawing at the walls of reality
parallel to those visible to my own short sight
my body is just floating, defiant of gravity
a white noise has entered my ears and it won't leave
it's too loud, it's filling the quiet,
a film covers everything in sight, i can't breathe

If you're lucky you'll get 36,501. 
But who knows, maybe it will be 23,890.
Or maybe you will only get 9,855.
Days, that is. Days to be alive. 
It really doesn't seem like much, not when you break the years up. 

i will come back one day
and i hope you are still here when i return
please don't be buried
please don't be burned