Wellful of Wails

'You've thrown me over the edge of the highest peaked cliff imaginable As I spiral further down, my outer shell gets roughed up by sticks and stones until my body is disfigured beyond recognition as if I'd been torn apart and restitched together by a confused child Will I ever hit the bottom? And then it happens, I'm slammed to a standstill. I don't know if I can make it out, I'm so terribly down on myself. Do I have the strength to save myself? At least go halfway to safety? I'll try. But the only way to go is by crawling dragging my nearly lifeless self along the railroad tracks that no one seems to come across unless they want to hide away and wait for death. The track eventually runs into a tunnel I must get through to receive any chance of comfort But so many have died on this very set of tracks. Can I make it? I'll try. I'm gripping the cold, hard ground. Struggling to continue on as each and every moment even tiny, cuts deep in me as if slashed by the gory blade of a masked offender as I move along the rugged tracks. I'm almost under the cover of the tunnel. Oh God, what's that sound? A train? Of course, along comes a train. The train constructed by all the grim gray deaths that have been committed along these very tracks. Chugging, chugging, chugging along. Way faster than any pace I can produce. The very structure of this train is held up by malicious spirits. The steel walls are formed by the souls of all those who've laid out on the tracks and awaited their brutal deaths they so longed for. I do NOT want to become an etched soul in that steel. But it's coming for me. I can hear it's whistle, and in its sound one can hear all the cries of the dead ever screamed aloud formed into a single sound so evil it must've been the work of the devil himself. But wait! ...I see the light. A light at the end of the tunnel. Hope. There's still hope for me yet. I'll be there. Just wait for me.' They're only words, that's what I said when I opened this letter fragile, fleeting meaningless words ever wrote despicable, disgusted I could care less This whole world, it makes me sick Words, they're only words I only speak volumes in words but I never really make a sound how can I when every note I wish to produce has been stolen from the very lungs used to produce my breath Here, let me convert your ears to my wellful of wails here, let me shed you a tale of mediocrity as I'm pleading, beating these bear walls with my fists bleeding, desperately trying to make real what my dreams won't allow to be true I love you so hollow, so empty it's been used as a gift but delivered like a lance through my abdomen, piercing me through and there's no phoenix resurrection, no elixir to bring me back to life Love has slain me, defaced me, mocks me if had my way, I'd burn it all to the ground slit both my writs and laugh as I merrily bleed out but those are just empty words, just empty words Can you blame me for going to the extreme a morbid end to a pipe dream though it's that very pipe this hot steam is flowing through I need a smoke, I need a drink words recited when days get too rough, too jagged it seems like everyday now, it seems like every hour I never want to go home, I never want to stay home but I have nowhere to go, nowhere to be, nowhere.... now I don't know what to do with myself, do with myself except curse the blue sky for looking so joyous while I in misery marvel at how jealous I am at the happiness in the stratosphere I can't reach as I watch these jets mimic my outlook on life while I take these shoes to sidewalks to burn off desires, burn off these painful feelings as I burn on the inside Hope, what hope is there for me when I look in the mirror and all I want to do is cut my eyes turn my arms into cobras rip them out and throw them away cause I refuse to see what life is doing to me and accept this is how I was meant to be I used to be everything I was proud of now I'm a split image, an illusion staring at myself a universe as he cries tears of entrapment in glass I'm too far away to break him out of a scared little kid, in a corner he can't fight his way out of I'm the fighter, the lier, the spark, set me on fire he was a lover, a genius, but someone deceived us now I'm the only one left Now my heart unglued, I trade food for ink cause I hope the smell will induce me but these are just words, meaningless fragile words I only speak in volumes of words but twisted and turned are my insides that I weave this tale convert your ears to my wellful of wails so I can shed my dark complexion for one slight bright side so I can crack my black, sky just a pencil point dot with this meaningful shout: THERE'S SOMEONE I ADORE! ! ! ! ! ! She, the author of the letter gives me light, gives me comfort, gives me warmth my blanket to hang over me, shield me from this darkness I cast She, the author of the letter my heroine, my rainy day, my cold breeze on a cloudy don't misread my words, their her compliments, not her insults Why would I insult one of the greatest things to me but then again I can only name she she, the author of the letter who hasn't tried to kill with me love - Sincerely, Your Crow That's...that's what his letter told me but I wrote no such letter to him who is he, how does he know me...