Glimpse 21 (Napo day 29)our conversation was androgynousperhaps the serum in this steintime travel incites fear and depression
Glimpse 20 (Napo day 28)the decoder malfunctionedand spat darts for yearsunattended demolition
Glimpse 19 (Napo day 27)midnight limousineshort skirt celebritymissed a spot
Glimpse 18 (Napo day 26)dust clouds at eye levelrainfal and red muckwestern saloon at 3:52
Glimpse 17 (Napo day 25)duplicate children held ransoma bed of contradictionmacromolecular biological catalyst
Glimpse 16 (Napo day 24)ravens swarm like swamp fliesand cover my nuditypecking my skeleton
Glimpse 15 (Napo day 23)arms replaced with firefingers as ashesi'm not a fraud, butlet me feel your face
Glimpse 14 (Napo day 22)we have carbon footprintscollectibles and relics forgottenvillage in the shape of a crucifix
Glimpse 13 (Napo day 21)simple rage disguised despairariel turned to foamso my dreams are fluffy clouds
dreaming last wordsIn my childhood homeI stood at the bathroom mirrorwith a pistol. Two pencil-colored blemishes,one beneath my right cheekboneand one just above the tip of my noseindicated where I had shot myself.I entered the dream standing therebloodless and frightenedwhen I should have been dead.I felt as if I had just woken upand immediately realized I wanted life.My fingers went to the back of my headand I panicked when there were no wounds,when I realized the bullets were still inside.If they had just passed throughI might have survived but like this,there was death in me.I shook and wept. The pistol turned to woodin my hand. Somehow all my regrets fit in its changing.Nothingness ate the universefrom the outside until it wrapped tightlyaround the room. The names of flowersprinted on the wallpaper blurredto cumulusand while I would have likedall the dead animals of my childhoodto be there in the room with me,I was alone.Even all I’d donew
PrettiesPretty face,Beautiful body.Fresh look,At the turning age.Surged eyes,Sleek hair.Completely perfect,Minds all the same.Bubbly thoughts,Fake emotions.One goal,To be in control.
Spotlessone day you'll fly a little too close to the sunand you'll remember the boy who told yougas station trinkets were worth more thanthe heart you wore on your sleeve.disillusionment will take you home, andit will not leave your bed in the morning.(you will remember he called you loose, too.)you are the one who believes in smokesmiles and candid cadavers. no ones'nose grows, so everyone must beundeniably true (exceptyou lie to yourself, too)a few lifetimes ago you fell in lovewith your own reflection, but as youstripped away layers of common mis-conceptions, you realized you are notvirtuous and radiant and hung outonly to shine, your paleness isnot purity- only blanched bones.gravity never liked you andthe secrets you tucked awaybeneath your sternum, you'refalling outyou are a moth flitting selfishly,you only wear your tattered wings.
Happy Birthday GerardAt 30 years gone by so fast,Your music career is sure to last.With raven black hair and beautiful hazel eyes,No one is thinking of your demise.Your obsessed with revenge, so you wrote the songs,Killing your loved ones, then bringing them along.Bullets, Revenge, now The Black Parade,Your fan base has turned into a brigade!We'll follow you to the depths of hell and back,Cheering and singing, we've got your back.You've saved so many lives, made so many cry,But in a good way, You've shown us we don't have to die.You want to change the world, impact lives,You've done it, Gerard. You've made the ties.You've travelled the world singing out your heart,To all these little fan girls who've "loved you from the start."They think your just a trend, one who'll soon pass,But I tell you Gerard, your surely here to last.Your NOT some stupid trend, your a man with power!And you become stronger with every waking hour!You love us all, you dont want us to die.You say so in your songs w
MasksEveryone wears a maskWhether it be of smiling or painHate or LoveShame or prideEgo or AngerEveryone wears a maskIt cracks sometimesPeople can see through the chipped paintSee past the fakeSee past the facadeWe all wear masksOnes of animalsOnes of other peopleOnes that we would like to beOnes that we hateWe all have a maskSomething we can hide behindSomething we can use to fightSomething that keeps us safeKeeps us okay in the beginningThese masksKeep our secretsHold our treasures in locked vaultsKeep our hearts from breakingKeep the tears from showingWe all have masksYou can paint them upIt can be anythingBecause no one can see past the maskNo one knows what anyone's face really looks likeHumanity is made of MasksWhat is yours painted of?
working knowledge of my self-destructive natureoh bright color splashfashioned into quartered aspen,have you since thengrasped what i meant?last spentat the altar of forgive-me-my-sins,casket closedwith a mirror built in.grass trashing in a light wind,callous breezes gasping up cellar hymns.sink spits hallowed,all hours lit in bright mixof tallow and chorus resplendent.your hollow passionshave beenrescinded.
defeatheredand this is where we bury our hearts,between self-defeating personality disordersand burnt bridges and midnight ramblingswe promise ourselves aren’t true;embedding our memories in forsaken homeslike it is a conscious decision to shedour wings (reptiles don’t fly)and maybe I am the monster of everymyth: wide-eyed and jagged toothed andlooking to regain a piece of myself theworld borrowed, many moons agoas I falter and stumble over my own unawarefeet, wreaking havoc, reeking of self-acquittal--all I ever wanted to do was belong.dreams are flaws much like the hearts weflaunt on our sleeves, and I seem tohave lent all mine away; I amsomething entirely ignorant, in the dark,believing fingers fumbling can find answers.they never told me reflections are backwardsand the world spins the wrong way andhurricanes are really an embodimentof all our own withdrawals:but one day, these walls will crumble,and I will learn to breathe in dust.
UnattractiveI stare at my reflectionIn the mirror, my incessant foeTo seek beautyTo seek self-loveOnly to findA broken dollWith an upturned smileStaring back spitefullyShe isI amUnattractive.
things i don't rememberi.what you sounded likeas my ears were formingwhat dreams or secretsor worriesyou confided in mewhat pressures sunkyour proud shouldersor the first timei caused youto cryii.where i was when i decidedthat your footstepsshould be followedthat your idealsand fearsshould be made my ownwhere exactlyon my bodyi bruisedas i learned the world's waysdo not alignwith our hopesiii.when i firstfelt aloneiv.how my feet dangledevery time i wasn't strong enough andhow you made the worldright andhow you werefiguring it all outthe samev.why ithought that lifewas easy
every sunsetthe bright sun meets the dark nightand in those moments they play a purple skya greeting, a farewelland the night is left lonely and cold