Free ambitions for something else
The art is in the lack there of
Trying to hard to figure out who I am
Freed up all my rage… nothing left
Gave up and now I’ve got nothing to give
Face pressed hard against the glass
No longer want to be on the other side
Cracking and I’m not sure why anymore
With nothing left to say
The purpose can’t find another way
Art is in the lack there of
Trying too hard to be who I already am
Look at me… I’m too perfect to change
Scratching words into the skin
Can’t seem to see what has been here
Shouting and screaming with nothing to say
The stains only grow darker as I wait
The scars growing thicker as truth settles
Desperation grows beyond the soul
Pressed so hard against the glass
Pressing against it for no reason at all
My throats all scarred

The roots of what you can see go so much deeper than you could ever believe…

Thin lines separating thinner ideas
What could be if nothing is to be?
Broken thoughts buried in me
Leaking from my skin and onto the page
A bloody mess made of black ink
Said this all before
In so many different ways
Night after night yet
There is no end for thoughts like these
Depression doesn’t know how to end
It’s not like happiness could ever last
But if it could would I ever understand?
I’m sure I’ve said this all before
Maybe this time around it will all make sense
Then again maybe none of this ever did

Getting worse at the things that make me sane…

Listening to sad songs is only
Making these feelings worse
Strings pressing against my skin
Digging into my flesh
Scars from memories before
Sad songs to remind how I once felt
Things aren’t working the way
They once were
Impressions left on the page
Lyrics that can say more than I can
Recalling feelings from a time before
Sinking them in deeper into softer matter
Listening to sad songs is only
Making these feelings worse
And not saying much