Kuroi Kangae

first hit and quit,

with no scape goat..

what happened to living life

with no regrets?

its raining…

the flood gates are quaking..

and i find myself ashamed and waiting

for this baptism to take place

when the levies brake…

but it’s not enough

to wash the sins away…

praying for mercy and God’s grace…

waking up to yesterday’s mistakes,

hungover and aching…

whispering placating thoughts

to keep my heart from racing.

it seems like im running

from every safe haven.

directionless and unsure

of the image reflected. restless…

while fighting off these

unexpected demons.

reaching for reasons that exceed

my ability to comprehend.

falling short of my standards

and before i can mend

i push forward and pretend

that i dont feel the pain.

i pretend that

the banes of my existence

are tamed…

Holding on to the knowledge

obtained In duress I,

Anxiously retrace my steps

in an attempt to correct the mess

doing my best

not to falter this time…

Reminding myself

that this war isnt mine…

But the battle…

Could kill me.

And i straddle

the two sides of purgatory

Ignoring this burning desire to explore

The dark side of my existence…

Or at least i try to

Every so often im seduced

By her call

Expose myself completely, flaws and all…

Close my eyes lean back and fall…

From grace…

Hoping God will Save my place

Until i regrow my wings…

Stop reliving the past in my dreams

And move forward…

I wanna meet more painters…

Artists… poets…

Individuals who do the most

To draw your attention to

Their words not necessarily spoken

Stumbling down a written path

Not necessarily chosen by me

But bestowed by some other entity

A metempirical being

Who has all this faith in me

To paint the world with these words

That lack in complexity

Compared to the beauty

That my eyes behold…

I want every one of my lines written in bold

I want you to hear my voice

And die a thousand deaths

I want your hearts to explode

Out of your chest

As I peel the shadows from behind

My eyes

Every artist silently cries

“please.. don’t forget me.”

Forget me not as I bare my soul

Give away secrets contained

Behind closed doors

In private…

I may cry if I speak on …

Nevermind it

Did that one poem about suicide

Blind side and change your

Respective perceptions of me?

Let me

Yank you out of your

Zone of comfort

Watch me

Slit my wrist

With a ball point pen

And shoot up the

Left over ink…

Drag you to a place

Where you can’t do a thing but think

“Damn… how did that feel?”

Snaps and silent stares

The opium to a tightly tied tongue

Letting spill past transgressions

Til my brain goes numb…

Ya’ll don’t have to understand

But if I have just one

Single… person…

Look at me the way she just did…

I’ll be able to rest easy…

Until the inevitable day that

that Uncontrollable need seizes me

And I again press that pen to paper

And get high off the fumes.

Every artist is forever addicted

And doomed…

It would seem…

Charged with depicting

A masterpiece falling apart

At the seams…

On a never ending journey

Sparked by incoherent dreams…

Walking this lonely road

In search of another being

Stumbling down this same path

Not necessarily chosen…

Looking in each other eyes

And seeing those words not spoken

I just want to sleep… It’s the only thing that’ll get rid of this empty feeling…

phaseslikethemoon:

I write.

I write to give depth to the profound sadness that overcomes me.

I write to give width to the unadulterated exuberance that takes over me.

I write to give peace to the incessant fears that chase after me.

I write to give form to the fervid intensity that drains me.

I write to give back to the moments that took my breath away, only to resurrect me.

I write because I know no other way. 

I write.

(via fuckmewithwordss)

If beauty is in the eye of the beholder, does that mean we can choose whether or not our eyes acknowledge beautiful things? Why is it that we feel so much more when the sense of sight is taken away from us? At the same time we are told to believe half of what we see and none of what we hear… how many lies can one hide in a touch? besides the obvious I Love You’s some hear when flesh connects. Driven by lust, and leaving a mess… So if we’re believing half of what we see, none of what we hear, and understand that feelings can be just as tricky… How do we determine what’s beautiful? If lies are told beautifully, but we dont hear them… And the truth is presented in a manner that’s unappealing, so we choose not to see it… And human error damns us to feel things that arent really there… How is it that we still survive? I’ll search for half truths as i gaze into your eyes when you touch me. Place a finger over your lips so you can’t say you love me. See truth conjured up in the flesh of one of God’s most beautiful creations…. Be uncertain about it all… Yet clinging to faith, still fall.

I’ve had more than a couple of people tell me they can’t see me in a relationship.

Very off-putting to hear.

So of course I begin to wonder…

“is it me?”

Has to be…

If the issue is brought up by more than one person

Then it must be true…

“Right?”

It can’t be…

Rather… They fail to understand.

A soul such as mine,

This essence…

This being…

This person..

This me…

You’re on my mind so heavily right now… it’s weighing me down. this is exactly why i didn’t want to let you in. you talked me into removing the blockade around the “Me” few people are allowed to see. you called me “bland”, and because you’re special to me, i felt the need to explain that I wasn’t. I project a blank slate and become whoever those around me want me to be… simply because when they leave… it’s easier to give up and discard the false caricature… when i give myself to someone mentally… even if it’s a tiny piece… and they leave with it, i feel the absence like a gaping hole. beneath the poker face im scrambling for cover. i can’t stand it and i want to dive back into the deepest shadows in my mind. surround myself with the familiar blackness of my thoughts. So… it’s easier to rely on these not so accurate doppelgangers of the original that i keep locked inside. you cracked open that safe… made me feel safe… and now… you’re nowhere to be found… and you’ve been on my mind all day…

Constant what ifs cycle through my thoughts and im left speechless… I hear heaven in your voice and borrowed angels wings burst from my back just so i can reach you. I float above the clouds and drift on whispered lullabies… Transcribe the voice of God and filter out the devil’s lies… My eyes capture the kaleidoscope hidden in this black and white rainbow. They say we dont dream in color… But i swear im the exception…