What's cooler than a brand new box of crayons?

The smell of ruffling papers. The aroma of words, the pigment of the ink soaking through to the pages below. The fragrance of poetry. The ambriosa of hollow art. The beautiful scent of the parchment pieces bringing my thoughts to life; telling you what I know; speaking up, speaking out, speaking to you what I believe to be true. Reaching up, reaching out, reaching over, reaching to the ends of the earth. Spinning around along with this world. If I could stretch myself across oceans for you, you know I would. Everything would be glorious and perfect for you if the world only knew. How much you mean to me, how much you mean to the world. You are more than you could have ever dreamed, so enticing to me it seems.
Sparkling, shining, carressing arms...
smiling, glowing, charming face...
careening, dancing, wildly out of control for you...
crashing into your hands...

How to Find the Meaning in and of the Worthlessness

Hold the drawing pencil in my hand
Nothing ever turns out right
Masterful is something I’ll never be
Only in my dreams
Only in my dreams

And is life just a bunch of crumpled pages on my bedroom floor?
Did I happen to leave my heart in pieces at the door?
When everything just seems so dark, there has to be something more.
There has to be something more.

Hands folded on my chest now
Staring up at the sky
Looking at the clouds
Dreaming of what I could be
Dreaming of what I could be

And is life really just all of us going around on cable cars
Same routine, same circles, I look for answers in the stars
When did everything come to a stand still in scenes thick with smoke from cigars?
Yeah, I hate the smoke that comes from cigarettes and cigars.

Telling myself not to do things that are bad for my mental health
Shivering hands because I don’t know what to do
Fiddling with this and fidgeting with that trying to preoccupy my mind
I’m so bored
Oh, I’m so bored

And is life just a stack of old magazine and newspaper ads?
When did our existence become solely living for the fads?
What happened to complicate the system and cause us to go mad?
What caused us to go mad?

What lies the distance?
Between dreams and reality?
A void, a void, a void so deep,
To bridge this gap so steep.
And what? What? What lies the distance?
Between what we have been
And what we are today
And what we’re supposed to be?
Redemption.
Redemption.
Redemption.
Redemption.

.:.}|{.:.taste it.:.}|{.:.

Tanks and canisters of boiling blood
Torrential storms of the amount spilled
Black and white photographs
Morbid memories consume the empty spaces

The sister garlanded maiden
The brotherhood abandoned
Flesh and bones, incarcerated
Imprisoned, disheveled, isolated

Burning holes, frayed and singed edges
Calloused hearts hardening despite the sweet rain
Beating back the pain until there is only numbness
…Taste it