The Following Takes Place Between 12 AM and 1 AM

my mother never told me that I was special.

and daddy never told me that he was proud of me.

so to fulfill my purpose and to make them proud I wanted to live for something that was bigger than my hopes and dreams

But I scribbled out that plan with a black magnum sharpie.

You can say its that shame that keeps me sinking down the periodic climb up the ladder of life,

but I know that it's more of a heart issue than one of mass and gravity.

I've always had my doubts about divination but never before were they in technicolor, 3D, larger than life coming off that page while the ghosts of my past were still standing right beside me.

Little boy welcome to failure.

I hope you make yourself comfortable.

I get the feeling that we will become the best of friends while you have life in those veins.

So, I drafted a new plan to slash theses wrists in an effort to get all the failure out while I can.

I will always compromise when the weight is right,

upon my back with seemingly no way out of a house of mirrors

I will always compromise when the weight is right,

and it doesn't take much to make me start to sink.

I was told that my bones would start to break before my body would bleed and I thought I'd put that theory to the test

There is only so much that you can do as a 13 year old boy to relieve the sensations that those 13 year old boys feel

and the list of things to put my faith in seems to be on a downward slope

I've read:

"I set my mind on this and therefore I have hope"

I can't even seem to find a way to cope with the new messages that are being sent to my brain electronically

Call it hormones, call it ecstasy

Hell, you can even call it the latest disease

But something inside me is broken and not easily fixed and I'm thinking that my presence on the earth will only be lightly missed

Someone tell me that Satan has gotten ahold of me one more time and I swear to God that I will start to ascend to the skies.

This life that I lived was supposed to be one that I could call me own

But I'm afraid that my only option is to cut my skin down to my bone

The syllables roll of their tongues in a way that makes me think that the voices are true.

I'm going crazy and my hand is outstretched but ignored by you.

It's funny how the subtraction of words from a few sentences changes the meaning entirely.

I would love to help you, boy.

used to look a lot like

I would love to help, but I hate you.

Isn't this the point where Angels descend and the heart in my chest is made well again?

I guess not or maybe the demons have too deep a hand.

Should I change my name to Legion

Or will God afflict me again?

Lord, I want to believe in you so badly

but, the thorns around my heart have taken over your throne.

Maybe if you save me one more time I'll allow you to cast the first stone

and pray to you that it makes a dent in the door that is keeping my closet closed.

I've only got so much time left in this life

and all these events have taken place with my hand upon a knife.