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BlackMarx
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| Closed mouth doesn't get fed. If you have any questions feel free to ask. I'll respond.
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The darker mornings and cooler weather is welcomed. Can't wait for some fall camping!
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This weekend is fabulous. Drinks? |
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Pardon me
Ms. Diary
I haven't held your spine in some time.
Your outside skin, is glittery scattered
And grayish matter
finger printed and define.
I know if I touched your plane
my pen will roll
and sketch
some shit sublime
Even though not rhetoric
You might not get it
all I really wanted was your time. |
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good
better
best
never let it rest
til your good
is your better
and your better
is your best!
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Nothing will spawn Nothing
Strolling threw this comfortable street of procrastination,
that leads to no particular destination.
I find it difficult to tell how far i've wandered down this road,
because every humble abode has no visible variation.
A place where time is just a measure of patience,
and hard work is replaced with liesure and vacation.
nothing here changes,
like words on dusty pages,
they remain the same.
Where imagination is bound to the ground,
and elevation is restricted to the length of the chain.
Some find strength in pain,
but these inhabitants find strength in being plain.
Nothing good,
NO,
nothing at all will come from continuing on this trail,
to the left, is a brightly lit billboard, which reads,
"IF YOU DONT TRY, THEN YOU CANNOT FAIL!".
Far to long have I roamed this empty street,
till now, nothing could tempt me to leave.
I feel like im drowning in my insecurities,
which are so thick, im finding it hard to stay afloat.
Staring deep into failures brown eyes,
with her deathly cold fingers clutching my throat,
pulling me down, not letting me go,
I find it depressing to know,
that every mouthful of uncertainty I swallow,
is helping me grow,
there is no gentle path of transition to follow,
only i tattered dirt road,
where it doesn't matter if i hurt my toes.
I have to keep moving,
keep straight and forward,
until i can escape the distorted portait.
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Beautiful or Miserable?
She cries, the tears defy everything life tries to imply.
On her mind but time and time again she can't define the lies.
Inside her little ozone, weather patterns are random.
Snaketongued pastors and phantoms holding her laughter for ransom .
After the action gradually passes, I tend to approach.
Played the back long enough to pretend there was hope.
Excuse me miss, I really must reccommend a savior.
I'd nominate myself but I'm a cat with pen and paper.
I tend to say the wrong things at the perfect moments.
And the right things only come when I can't coerce the focus.
But that's fine, I just wanna know what's on your brain.
I don't ask that you remove clothes, but take off these chains...
But she remained the same, she just took in it stride.
How it can change a face.. Oh, how she looks when she cries.
I can't decide if it's beautiful or miserable...
Have her look into my eyes, and allude that it's forgivable.
No effect, but I hold respect for the girl I didn't save.
Remembered her face, but didn't get the pleasure of her name.
And if I prayed, most of them would go to her.
The girl I didn't save, all of them would go to her .
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| Age: 30 |
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Pennsylvania |
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