Justin Wetch

We talk so much yet we have nothing to say.

Every breath we take from the airTakes oxygen from an insect__ lungs mid-prayerAnd every exhalation does loudly declareThat in the currency of life, we__e millionaires.A butterfly flapped it__ wings and Rome fellA passerby__ whistle cracked the liberty bellAnd I dare urge the daring not to yellLest we so bid a skyscraper a rough farewell.A snake__ tongue slithered and man did sinLet me tell you how the waves from a shark__ finDid set the tides on D-Day and let the allies win;Chance and destiny are identical twins.A word was spoken and the earth createdAnother phrase and the future was dictatedAnd so every action must be carefully weightedWe just never know how things are interrelated.

Time machine to the pastStep back a few yearsOld feelings, like LazarusSuddenly reappear.It's your song on the radioAnd it's your hand in mineAs this wave crashes over meOur stars again come unaligned.

I'd be lying if I said I didn't want youI'd be lying if I said I didn't wish you were mineThe truth is, you stole my heart from afarThe truth is, you still have it._

Question marks are met with periodsBy people full of arroganceThey have every answer, nothing mysteriousAnd yet they have no evidence.

As artists, we create the beautyWe are too afraid to live outAnd search, but always fall just shyOf finding what life is about.

I don__ want safety or guarantees__ want a life worth living.I want to jump off a skyscraperAnd fashion a parachute on the way downOut of my fears and trepidationsBecause sometimes survivalIsn__ the most important thingAnd survivingIsn__ the same as living.

Sleepless nightsSpent looking at the ceilingSearching in those etched patternsFor some sort of adhesiveTo glue together the broken piecesOf a soul crushedBy the weight of the fact thatLife is profoundly sad.

Fate is the cruelest of masters, takingLife when it pleases or at random, handingRigged decks to whom it pleases, cheatingAll alike and none the wiser, takingEverything away from those with nothing.

I wish I could see butterflies burst from cocoonsWithout tempering my amazementKnowing all beauty eventually dies.

Real life is just another stage.Just another stage where I have to look and actLike I have everything put together;everything neat, perfect, and in order,when in reality I__ slowly dying,Slowly decaying, screaming and clawing,at this little box I__e been put into,_Trying desperately to escape.

Pressure knocks at my doorA clock ticks and demands its dueThe lava burns from the floorBut not in a game like it used to.So little time to figure it all outSo many distractions to prevent successI__ in a dark forest with no path or routeBut this internal fire knows no rest.

As joy dwindles with the yearsI wistfully recallWhen the christmas treeLooked ten feet tallAnd the presents under itSeemed endless And more Than mere wrapping paper.

Sometimes it feels like even ifEvery inch of my skin was touching yoursI still wouldn__ be close enough to you.

Call me obsessed, color me consumedI__e always been the type to noticeThe smell of a rose in bloom,But let me confess, this is newYou__e stopped my heart, let it resumeAnd I, to finish, must tell it trueI__ high on your perfume.

Love gives the best of highsBut also the worst of hangovers.

You are my drug of choiceI know you__e no good for meAnd though I swear my lipsWill never touch you againHere we are, here we are.

What a cruel irony it is, that we get to choose our thoughts but not our feelings.