The Whispers Of No One

I have tried for a lifetime
To find some peace of mind
Days are spent like money i've never had
And hours are wasted like a relapsing drunk
Minutes are whores that never stay
Seconds? What the hell are they?
And here I am again.
In a house full of people.
As alone as I've ever been.
Mumbling to myself.
In a quiet, tone-deaf bliss.
With headphones on.
Songs so loud my ears ring between them.
But it doesn't matter.
I'll be deaf one day anyway.
But the reason for the volume
Is as simple as pressing play.
I'm trying to drown out the whispers of no one.
That voice in my mind,
It's haunted me for years.
Preying on my every doubt,
As it quickly amplified my fears.
It reminds me that I am truly broken.
And it laughs because the pieces don't even have the decency to be pretty.
Each one is uglier than the next.
But it doesn't matter.
I'll be dust one day anyway.
I'm in no rush to get there.
Besides, I've been metaphorically walked on before.
And "never again" cried the fool.
But oh yeah,
Please don't confuse the music,
As the soundtrack to a pity party.
For there are no chips and salsa here baby.
No drinks in dixie cups, or people dressed to the nines.
But I probably should have a drink.
And this nine, well he could sure use a sixty.
But I digress.
Yes, I'm a fucking mess.
But who isn't?
I mean it... really...
Anyone? Show of hands?
I didn't think so.
Or maybe the problem is I think too much.
Or maybe I just need sleep.
Comfort in the darkness of night.
On a bed as misshapen as its owner.
Hear that?
The tap-tap-tapping of the keyboard.
The honking horn of an incoherent clown.
Laughing to hide,
The horrors inside,
And the screaming that sounds...
Like the whispers of no one.

Re-Construction

The dam has been reconstructed.
Rebuilt with pieces of hopes and dreams.
Each broken promise is the mortar.
Filling both the gaping holes and seams.
But what does it matter?
The water level is rising.
Ever turbulent are the waves.
Beating down against the tired walls.
But with a foundation this far in place,
The outdated system never caves.
So who is there to blame?
For the crashing sounds calling out
Or for the optimism drowning slow
As I push it's head below the crests
And whisper, "you have much further down to go."
Die slowly, happy thoughts.
Greet the disappointment that you've left.
With a love no soul has ever seen
Just an owner here, both ugly and bereft.
Who are you to judge?
Who are you to stop and stare?
Who are you to pretend and feign a gasp,
Or have the fucking nerve to care?
Be not a witness here,
For blood will stain your hands.
I'm just drowning out the weakness of emotions, dear.
That's what nobody understands.
So leave me here to paint the walls.
And make this dam a mural that can warn,
Everyone. From the pretty to the peasant,
That I hate this entire fucking world today.
And I wish we gods were never born.

So ignore the noises that you hear.
For I have heights I need to reach
Just to escape my emotions' fluid state
In an attempt to clean this wretched, dirty slate.
Yet, I don't expect any sympathy
Or even expect a form of aid
Because my disposition is growing cold
So we can call a spade a spade.

The Purge?

I am at a loss for words.
A fool with nothing left to say.
Staring down at photographs
Hoping they'll turn and look my way.
But with nobody else to touch
Just how am i supposed to purge
The desires for the only one
Who awakened every urge
Won't a new goddess find her way
To the bed in which I lay
And take me to heights
Through all the nights
So i can forget how much i hate myself today
And if she's out there, alone like me
I truly hope she's reading this
Because I'm waiting here, impatiently
Hoping to touch and taste her precious gifts
And prove just how much I'm needing bliss.

Enjoy It, Baby?

Within my chest there has been a hole.
An endless void for all to see.
Or at least the few who cared enough,
To see how deep the well could be.
And within that internal crater, lies the proof that you were here.
Like an obnoxious print in wet concrete, made to leave your mark for years.
And despite my strong denials, the evidence will show
That I'm a fucking fool for holding on, and not learning to let go.
Because the worst gift one could ever get, is the hope that things will change,
Cause now you have come and gone again, and i feel a bit deranged.
But worry not, my darling true, you're safer than can be.
Cause in my world, you've been replaced, so this pen will bleed for thee.
For selfishness is a blissful trait, and you possess the thing in spades.
But watchful eyes will help your dreams, to dig and fill their graves.
And memories are such tired things, your face, like a shitty sitcom on repeat.
Now forgetting you feels so good, even diabetics would sure agree it's sweet.
But all of this is neither here nor bare, if that makes any sense at all.
Cause you built me up, then let me down, and didn't warn me of the fall.
And the broken shards that i became, would've made mosaics of your name.
But now i hate the very thought of you, and i feel not an ounce of shame
When i say there was an impressive list of things, that i wished to do to you.
But now my tongue has become a blade, and it's your heart I'm pushing through.
Enjoy it, baby.