A wandering spirit lives inside me,
no board or brick may be my home.
With a roving planetary soul so free,
through this world I will forever roam.
Consisting of a two stallion band,
with only me and my lack of trust.
Remaining free from tag or brand,
I’m followed only by clouds of dust.
My shadow is my jealous mistress,
yet this world is my silent wife.
When the time comes in this abyss,
she will take my lonesome life.
Until then I will drink from the sea,
upon the moons reflective shore,
and gaze into oceans of black.
The world my heart broke free,
and when it beats for her no more,
she will come submerge it back.
Between belonging and freedom,
It seems I chose the latter.
With a restless soul within me,
forever running until I ache.
A thousand times in this life,
my brittle heart shall shatter.
Yet solid remains my spirit,
that no one can ever break.
I can tell my true feelings or mask them into a story
A story of someone who is internally broken
Who hides behind a smile
Who’s careful not to let a tear fall
Writing is my therapeutic release
I can bare my soul
I can write what I am feeling when I cannot physically speak the words
Writing is my therapeutic release where I can invite you into my world whether I am feeling low or the happiest person in the world
Writing is my therapeutic release
Unleashing pent up aggression, bottled up emotions, the realization and truth regarding certain situations
Writing is my therapeutic release and forever will be, because even when I may not be able to speak, I can write down how I feel, and in doing that, find some sort of peace
Hollow sin-Eater searching empty roads
A barefoot traveler with bleeding soles
This hateful living for the sake of death
Your guilty feast taken and laid to rest
I count the grapevines on the tablecloth,
Twenty-six twine on my side by the broth.
I count the bubbles in the champagne glass
And dread the moment Mom starts to give thanks.
We hold hands to form a shatterproof chain,
I spot the rusty link but I restrain
Myself. I am thankful, I am. Yeah sure.
Dear brother, you’re home, you have found a cure.
Oh, they all stood to kiss you! They don’t smell
The stench of penitentiary, the hell
That you dragged in with the crushed autumn leaves.
A “brand new man” yet I do not believe.
But let’s go around! Why not, let’s have more
Empty chatter. Go on, tell Dad to pour
Us the dessert wine. We can spin like this,
Ignoring the taste of ash and grit.
I smile and nod, try not to bear my teeth.
Our vacuumed rugs hide the dirt underneath.
There’s still some laughter when I rearrange
The pie crumbs into star maps. We exchange
A polite “bless you” when we share a sneeze
But I won’t stretch to look above my knees.
Back then, I swear I thought you to be brave,
We’d tip toe in the dark to stay up late.
But now, a fallen statue cracked by sin,
I finally see your tattooed, human skin.
I cringe with shame as family leaves the room.
A twisted guilt somehow ensnares me too.
Just like these grapevines connecting like dots,
Every year we’ll tangle til’ we rot.
Where’s the fucking rizla’s man
I just need a fucking smoke
to take the edge off
starting with just one almighty toke.
This week’s been shit
I have to say, today’s been much the same
let’s smoke ’til I can’t see her face
and can’t recall their names.
She said that I’m an addict.
Yeah, what does she fucking know
a few pills every weekend
and a little bit of blow.
A spliff for breakfast every day
to help me on my feet
and a couple more at bedtime,
but that’s just to help me sleep.
Beers with the lads at dinner time
before it’s back to work
and a swift one after clocking off.
It’s an early finish perk.
I love my life! There’s nothing wrong!
I’ll never change a thing!
There isn’t a drinking game exists
that I can’t fucking win!
How could she ever understand
or find ways to forgive?
She must think I’m some
useless selfish bastard fucking div!
There are thing I tried to tell her,
but how could I ever say –
I think of ways to end my life
about fifteen times a day.
She never lets me see the kids
it breaks my fucking heart!
She says I’m unpredictable,
but she knew that from the start.
School, foster homes and prison
none of it did me no good
I was born and dragged up fighting.
Surviving any way I could!
I’ve been this way from being fourteen
life will never be no different.
Pissed and stoned forever
from a forty plus delinquent.
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