Ritualistic-Suicide

Words float on like photographs that tremble in the pouring rain, Echoing my heavy thoughts, That drift like solemn memories Endlessly refracting lights, drifting on my tired skin It echoes like an empty song That once lit up my face again Candlelight is my parade, it drifts through me like falling rain Across the endless skies Paint the sky with diamonds You’re just another chemical in my catalytic converter I am lost out here, painted on like masquerades Waiting for the last return I feel it echo in my universe Resident entrapment, And I’m the echoed memory, making stills In the shadows of the darkroom Chemicals

You know how it is, just another day sometimes She looks off into the distance Oceans and oceans around her, dry and arid Arrakis, almost, Arrakis The fields roll, listening to the unheard hip hop of the plains The heights call to you, speaking of a forgotten love And all the while A little goldfish, has forgotten who he is, 480th time in the past day America sways on pillars of liberty and falls unto the waves of equal protection America the beautiful, My Jihad is against thee A young man dies, an old man lives, fair trade Seven Virgins and the promise of paradise A young man dies, an old man lives She looks into the sky, and se

You know, that one August morning, Clear as a Bell You could hear it from a mile away The Electric sparks flying like thunder, But tender and flowing as butterflies a bit of flirting to get the mood just         …right Ice cream, melting into the wood grain of a porch Downright sticky mess Pleasant and amusing in the eyes of love Water balloon fights were last week Talking on the porch is this week The fireflies create a halo overhead And you can see it a mile down the road Clear as a Bell Whispers and promises evaporate off hot lips Commingling with the sweat of adolescence Hands touch each other tenderly; you can see the El

They say we can't find ourselves She's a dark mirror showing me my deepest secrets It's that culture she's looking for, almost 40 years and lightning still hasn't struck twice She keeps a notebook, but all the pages are blank She keeps a pen, but it only writes on her heart Whispers leave her lips, talking to the wind, but in only replies in echoes           A bed of misery awaits her and she throws herself, yearning for the pain a wounded masochist                  And he only smiles when she bruises She lights a cigarette burning the wick to the explosion                                                Screaming sounds like silen

She was looking for something Still Looking, after all these years And unable to find anything I remember, she used to look into that mirror Echoing the jazz and blue skies But blue skies turned gray And that, was simply that She told me, that She told me that things were better off this way So I left, with a promise And she blasted off into the stars, dancing to the raindrops and diamonds All you can hear are the raindrops, When you're waiting for the sunshine She told me it would be alright, I guess people lie When they're looking for themselves

I woke up late again, and got up out of bed. It's always raining outside these days, it's like heaven's got a bone to pick with the rest of us. I slowly made my way to the bathroom; to get the water started before I went to make breakfast. Bagel and cream cheese, before I always head out to the coffee shop across the street and buy a large cup to get my day started. But something was different today, and I could feel it. I made my way into the bathroom and looked in the mirror, I didn't recognize myself anymore. This is the face of man who's broken every which way from Sunday. I stop for a second and try to catch my breath, look around and t