The Rope Course

And it's another Monday in the basement.
What are we doing here?
Reconnections.
Falling outs.
Stressing.
Relaxing.
Breathing.
Ashtma attack.

Take it all in stride when it all starts to collapse.

Paint these nerves
raw.
Be electric.
Don't miss your
opportunity.
There's nothing worse than
missed opportunity.

Take
it
all
in
when
it
starts
to
CRASH.

Crash.
Bang.
Swing.
Swing.
Swing.

Monkey bars.

Swing.
Swing.
Swing.

The sand below you is lava remember?
Don't hit the ground.
But you need to hit the ground in order to know what's above.
So where do you go?

Swing.
Swing.
Swing.
Swing.

Swing.

It's a Tuesday morning in the basement.
And the tape rewinds.

Billie Holiday, Winter Holiday, Roman Holiday

And I'm realizing that it's so bittersweet.

Maybe I'll figure out exactly what's going on soon.

"This heart of mine hasn't got a ghost of a chance."

Desole, Somebody Prays

Walking on egg shells that are already cracked.
Consistant dissapointment.
Consistant inability to please.

I'm not perfect.

I fold my hands.
And lay my head in my lap.

Take it.

Please.

Just take it.
The strain is thicker than blood.

So.

Just take it.

Pray.
Prey.

Shifting Gears

It started to feel like fall today.
A sign that change is coming.
It's something in the air.
Something in the sun.
Caught in the falling leaves.
Like little suncatchers glistening.
How fast things change.
In as little as a week.
A moment.
A second.
For the best.
Or the worst.
But I guess in the end, everything is for the best.
Even if you know it right away or not.
But are things changing?
Or is it just me?
Am I changing?
Are you?
Are we?
Let's hope that's what it is.
Embrace it.
Easier said than done.
But we'll get there someday.
For now.

Movements In Quick Sand

Move.
Move you say.
It's the only way to get anywhere.

To get away from you.
To get away from me.
To get away from this.
To get away from us.

You push.
Until I'm in a corner.
You stab.
Until I'm crippled in that corner.
I swear I'd take a bullet for you.
But I'd take a bullet over your words any day.
You scream.
Until my voice has decided to quit.
You fight.
Until the fight in me is gone.

Immobilized. Broken. Out of breath.
You say I need to move.

Once strength is regained.
I cautiously scan.
Take a step into the sun.
Only to be drawn into your shade.

Consistency always suited you best.
And what's consistency without the one who's never left?
But who is that fair to?
Time lapses, and look at it backwards.

Please tell me where you want me to go.
Because you won't let me do it on my own.
You're virtually unpleasable.
You're virally indestructable.

I accept that.
Do you?

The difference between a man and a boy is a man takes responsibility for his actions.
Where did the man go you so often claim to be?

You're unsatisfied when I yearn for you.
You're unsatisfied when I yearn to stray from you.
So please.
Fucking place me.

My body is just a timebomb now.
Waiting to fucking explode.

The Sound Of Settling

Just so we can get this out of the way.

You make me angry.
You make me angry.
You make me angry.
You make me angry.
You make me angry.
You make me angry.
You make me angry.

Put me in a place, because apparently I can't do it on my own.

I Ain't Never Gonna Shut You Out

Morning, bloggers!

Here's an acoustic cover of 'Halo' by Beyonce.
The video is sort of choppy and the audio is whatever, but enjoy it nonetheless!