Blood I Spill

I think it's the silent ones that kill,
Just to be known by the blood they spill...

I'm really bad at telling stories,

And there is no use in me telling a joke,
But laughing should be my only remedy,
For things and feelings that idiots provoke.

I feel that it's the silent ones that kill,
But have you ever seen the blood and tears they spill?

My mouth is shut with an open mind,
Suppression and denial are usual things...
But your stupid persistance will forever sting...

A hole in my heart,
A hole in my spine...that you provide.
A hole in your head...

And now look at what I have done...
Say what you might,
It was a lot of fun,

I chased their bodies,
As they have chased my reactions,
I will not go into detail...
Like I said,
I'm not good at telling stories...

I know now it's the silent ones that kill,
Look at the blood I've spilled...

Traces Of?

Love and hate...
I can't define either.
Strong as they both are,
And still, at least to me, so unclear.

I wish I could draw a line between one and the other,
But seems as if they always come in pairs,
To rip each from my soul and give each a name,
Call each one out when I want it to show...
But then again...I really don't know.

So chance that I love, chance I will hate,
Because no one tells me how to clean this slate,
What I build in one...the other tends to break,
Much like us humans who might give...but will first take.

So I hope truth will flow from a whole in my face,
Until the time that love and hate find their place...
Because when you really think you feel one...
Of the other you are sure to find a trace...

The Disguise Chosen

My dreams,

The disguise chosen fills the eyes,
The mask so fake,
Cages minds,
And when not in place,
Unbelievable finds.

So pale a face lies under.

To speak of them and their wrongs,
To speak of US and say we're sane...???
Trouble comes in so many different ways,
In fact, the wrong live on.

After the day that I search for meaning,
And at night where I lay dreaming,
How I know searching must be the enemy,
And waking an untrue venture,
With the masks off... seems...
Sleeping is the real adventure...

Still Raining

It's still raining outside my window and I sigh...
Why does the sun always shine across the street?
Why does the cement burn under my feet?
Was it something I said?
Something I believe?

I know now it's raining in my soul...and I cry...
Why do I feel abandoned?
I cannot take advantage of what I've been handed,
When my fingers are cutt off, when my lips have been sealed.
I see outside while still in bed...
What is the point of getting up?

I HAD a life and someone to trust,
I still remember that feeling in my veins,
I vaguely remember lust,

It is still raining outside my window...I want to die...

You Left Behind...

A shiver in my spine you left behind,
A tremble in my voice can still be heard.
Your feelings hang on to me as well as your every word.

How can I still remember you,
When sometimes I don't even know what day I'm living in?
You linger on like the smell of old fish,
Like a memory of a past tragedy...

A cold residue of what you were...
And you seem to be going from bad to worse,
A clear view of a badshaped blurr,
I will forever remember my curse.

And when I am old and grey,
I hope to still know the things I think I know today,
Because the shiver you left behind I think,
I think that will stay...