droosky

beating freely, adorn atacked by a thorn, or wrapped in chains, in wrath or change, a single bounded heart, notices another. because there are thousands. thousands bounded. thousands of hearts, branded and marked. completely ripped and torn apart. millions bearing thorns that we won't even know, in this lifetime or the next.   is it our little numbered groups that is the reason we share such amazing embraces? or is it witnesses to opening and closing instances? it just who we are or is it who we are becoming? Or is it despair? Or is it just to share? the thing about affliction, is you can sense

let's take all your demons and we'll drown them out at sea. don't you dare sit and tell me of the man you were supposed to be. she pulled you to the pantry, she shook you by the shoulders and told you to fight like hell like she had all those years. she'd made you the only man in her life that wouldn't stand on by and let her give into her own fears. a small boy still stands under the bleachers holding his post, the keeper of secrets- you smile and wipe my eyes, all the stories you told for the first time and all the ways they'd tried to take. and i sit here, like some accident in your life but i love you like there's no mista

Sleep never comes Hands grasp at the hem of clothes Nails bite into flesh Teeth dig into lips Hands run through hair Sleep never comes Nightmares overide sanity

My insides boil at your sight Which acts like torture and harshly bites. All my shatered tears are spent And I am left with only you in my head. The dreadful horrors of life be Passes its way with such simplicity, Yet leaves behind such agony That dissolves into wistful memory. But the hate I feel inside of me, Equals the love I sense in my body. These inseperable feelings of agony Surprisingly come from the simplest glee.

Look at all the faces. Theres so many. Attached and connected. On the invisible dotted line, there is sever, harboring disconnection. New instances across new distances. Lights and shadows flashing in the backround. Silence never heard outloud. A face beyond the edge of the crowd. A glimpse so loud, you would have never heard the sound. without choice, living by experience, growing and delirious, lives are thrown together into a mix. without explination as to why I feel so sick. Eyes close and the picture fades slowly. Along side a thousand puncturing guiding hands. But by this desolate hand, is it the only that is guided. d

You're a faceless distraction, A bouquet of broken dreams, A walking contradiction, Falling apart at the seams. Defined by your affliction, Your tears are heartless streams.

I broke this down traced the lies to their origins breaking the boundaries where they lay. breaking, breaking, gone. cruel of me, isn't it when will I learn, eh? hey, hey, I still love you and I know you love me too. now tell me how much of a lie that was, and we'll laugh together take our drinks as one throw them back 'til only words remain so hey, babe it's late gonna be a lonely night tonight so you better get home soon get back to your new lover find comfort in warm arms while I stare out the window rolling wineglasses across the floor sure, I'm okay. smiling at you, aren't I? is it so wrong for me to invite you ove

Waves strip along the pores and crevices  of my moral face Creating bumps where neurons scream bloody murder Synapse millions Each one awake As if the day was fresh The night young And the sun a bloody mass Mocking us all As if Icarus Could dare be slashed from the sky with the wipe of the brush coloring water Each thing that grabs the stubble on my chin cheeks So where will the eyes shoot blood next Investing in wicked worlds and habits Each worse than theist clogging arteries Only metaphorically My breath hurts Dripping a light white stream of steam Through the my tear ducts Where does one life end? The other begins s

It is something that catches my critical mind When I look down to my feet and see That I am not walking on a gravel pathway. Instead, there is something unique and subtle, A trail of slate platforms set into earth. Each stone an individual island of unique traits, Each worn smooth and flat by weather and humanity. Puddles of rock settled deep in thick soil and moss. They shine black and silver, slick from dew, Like holes into a separate place, doorways. There is something about a Japanese Garden in Portland, Set away from the madness and concrete reality, That unlocks creativity to construct ideas. There is something incredibly

It rained hard outside as I sat in my room, my head against my knees as I cried.  My phone beside, me having no messages on it.  A note left on my dresser that looked ripped up.  A soft guitar started playing dark notes, but they sounded light.  I lifted my head up showing I was crying bloody tears. "A note lies on my dresser...no question I know the sender..." "Your handwriting is always the same...so calculated yet so plain..." "The words I read how they haunt me...how I wish'd they'd never be..." "I took one last look at the letter...tore it up and threw it in the shredder..." "My heart is torn...my world is black..." "The scorn I kn