mike7260s

to find real, true beauty just look up at the stars there is no way of knowing who we really are looking into a mirror and as seconds tick by we pretend not to hear them while we wish we could fly our freedom feels anchored but it's all in our heads we are never remembered until we are dead

a plethora of pills to keep my mind at bay but it doesnt help, the thoughts wont go away stuck in a never ending melancholic twilight there is a way out, but i'd be remembered as selfish so it looks like i'm here to stay things looking worse every day "you are meant for something great" they always say but i sure dont feel that way living only for that fading high that release from reality that relief from impending insanity i can feel it coming maybe its already here but everything is a blur i wish these dark skies would become clear looking for the light stuck in this fight in my mind i cannot hide so i'll bide my time u

it looks like a dust storm but i think its gonna rain he's just like a doctor but i'm always in pain so follow me this way into this charade where everyone's shouting "show us better days" cmon do this with me now it'll be so much fun i wont let you stop when you say you are done so just one more now and another tomorrow there'll be no more anger but eventually sorrow it looks like a dust storm but i think its gonna rain he's just like a doctor but i'm always in pain so follow me this way into this charade wher everyone's shouting "show us better days" trust me on this one its not as bad as they say its as sweet as a kiss more

this is what my overactive mind sees when i wake up to a large dead spider in my bed. it's long but give it a chance. i hope you enjoy it. Spiders everywhere, hiding under everything. Hundreds of them. Thousands of eyes, all gazing on, unbeknownst to me as i walk into their trap. I shake my sheets out, but they know not to hide there. They have been studying my movements for some time now. As i lay my head down onto the pillow and close my eyes, a single small white spider approaches, chosen because its color matches my nightstand. A scout, sent high up to give the signal of my last waking breath. A poised army waits stoically below, e

he'll lose himself to the sensation of the stilletoed temptation the billboard peepshows with the super-sized lies he'll waste the money he so humbly worked the streets for on frivolous things that distract him from the skies

where is real beauty? just look at the stars there is no way of knowing who you really are seconds tick by it's all in your head you are never remembered until you are dead