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@syntheticepidemic-blog
Fuel
You don’t fight me, my precious air. You ignite me and place us in a blissful state of harmony. You are a part of me and a piece of me. Help me burn strong when my fuel dwindles low. Ease the pain until it no longer shows. Make us burn hotter and turn blue like you. Make us burn hotter and turn blue like you.
-Syntheticepidemic
One held on too tight, One held on too loose, and one held on just right but had to let go because she wasn't alone and had everything to lose.
I Have To Be A Writer I enjoy science and medicine but I can’t shake the feeling that if I go into the kind of professions I will not be completely happy. That I will not love my job fully. When I think about about writing I feel this fire spread through me and it doesn’t burn. I get so passionate and in the moment because the inviting feeling that writing gives. The endless possibility of a blank page. Sometimes it’s scary but other times it’s beautiful.
Syntheticepidemic
Asking For It
You never give me anything You never do what i want I give you everything, but It's my heart that you taunt? I fulfill your wants and needs but I come to you on my knees and have to beg and plead, all for a favor. I give you all that you ask and you give me nothing. Making me the fool, the ass, By just asking for something.
Untamed
It doesn't make sense how you can just lay down and make my heart scream out loud. There's no control with you. Nothing is controlled with you. Not even attempted, Just tempted by the look in those eyes. Yes, they take me by surprise But, following the same pattern you realize while im blind. How do you deal? No crime committed but, Still appealed. The wounds are there but do I really wanted them healed. They're deep and scarred into who I am. Lion claws into the lamb, Shredded apart But, allowing it to happen. Consenting it to flatten me close to the earth. Feeling the grain of the earth. Breathing for the first time. Rebirth. Yet, my lungs hurt From breathing so hard. For being so hard on myself.
Bad memories are like wounds that are closed and have scarred over but, when you look at them you still remember the pain.
I hope you walk into my classroom one day and ask me if I ever did love you so I can finally rip open this vessel and let my soul pour out to say “Yes, I still do.” but I know it will never happen. I’ve wanted to tell you for a while now but you stopped answering my e-mails. I thought maybe that our fire could be rekindled but it burnt out the moment our lips touched in the space between the rows of lockers. The distance made my heart grow fonder but yours had wandered back into your chest. I tried to shove mine in. Weaving my hands between your ribs but I ended up breaking them. I thought you left me on a whim but you left me in a place knowing I can’t swim. My lungs can no longer breathe in air and water cannot compare to your atmosphere but those things are better than how you respirated my body because you deprived me of what I needed. If you ask me to trust you again I’ll say “the pain you’ve sowed is too deep seeded.”
Sometimes I wake up and am afraid of being cold. Afraid I'll absorb the frigid air into my toes. I wish standing alone that I could be my own comforter. When I cry and feel fear I don't wipe my tears. They stream down with a current so strong the dig valleys into my cheeks. For my own attention I have to compete. The deadly ricochet of the game of roulette we play batters the skin, shatters the bones, and bursts the blood vessels because of the place that evil nestles . . . within me. -Syntheticepidemic
I wear my heart on my sleeve and get stabbed in the shoulder. The weight of the knife feels like a boulder. Blood pours out of me like a flood and I don’t think I have enough to love. I try to rid myself of the demons in my life. But I realize there are no demons inside. It’s only me and how I look at myself through my eyes. Reading that line you probably feel some confusion. I am the problem but also the solution.
Open | Synthetic Epidemic
I keep telling myself it will be okay but I dont bother to make it that way.
Art, it's always in my head but never in my hands.
Every moral has its theme, like coral in the deep sea. Clown fish are the only friend to the sea anemone. Anyone else will be poisoned and considered an enemy.
I tried to weave my way in, but you both were so tight knit, and I wondered, “Was there any room for my thread?”
Threads
Always
In order to be a man or woman you have to be a certain way or have a particular posutre and if you don't then you're considered an imposter. Why must I foster a facade in order to make you happy? Someone with a mind so closed you make banks look like they open early. So what I'm more "manly" than "girly" despite my physical parts or hormones? I am done with questioning myself and feeling so low. I know who I am and have always known.
Jane Doe
The clouds look so heavy, like they are going to burst into tears. They start to shift and form a deer. Then the deer sits alone on the pier, hoping no one takes it by surprise. It's constantly moving its eyes. My hand treads carfully along the curve of her thighs. Jane Doe, where did you go? Ever since you left everything is so monotone. Where are you to make the sky rainbow? Where are you to make purple snow? Where are you and when are you going to come back home?
We were both wounded souls looking for someone to fill the void when only ourselves could connect the missing link.
From brain to paper sometimes it looses its flavor.
