roads

my faults are obvious,
they're winding roads through trees,
my burden and disease,
and all you know
is to make your mock, and tease.
that's how i understand

way with words (?)

i seem to have a way with words,
a way out of this place as it burns,
and ive been thinking
that maybe this place isn't meant
for someone who's got a way
maybe i should be totally clueless
just to fit in,
but why conceal, it makes me real,
and im waiting
for someone this true.

surreal skies

she says the sky's surreal.
she never explains,
but oddly,
everyone understands.
they have their own ways.

chasing concepts

pale moon to our left,
headed south, chasing the weather.
why chase a concept?

seems that's all we do,
chasing love,
chasing knowledge,
chasing anything that can make us a name.

why do we need that name anyway?
your legacy's nothing more than an overpopulated concept.

orange lights bathe your face,
you gas it harder,
"i can't wait to get out of this place."

"why?"

this page

i'm afraid to face this page,
it snarls, revealing its bloodthirsty teeth.
but i make a mark regardless.
and soon enough,
i've made a masterpiece
from nothing but a feral page,
and a wanderlust thought.

legacy

this isn't right,
and we weren't meant to step this light.
we're just ready to make a legacy,
so let's sieze it.

do you

if you read my mind,
what would you see?
would things be from a better perspective?
or would things change for the worst?