auraginx

tragedy wears a mask to disguise itself from us and so we never hesitate to give out empty stares as we feel the need to convey our disapproval of the countless unanswered prayers; we pray from all the pain we cannot take and we quiver on the edge of sidewalks hoping that passersby see the torment inside our souls and that maybe they will extend a hand. we have drowned in regret and we've paid our tolls so when we plea of sorrows all we ask is that you understand.

fires are burning: brightening and warming the cool night's air. i wish i could share these moments but alas, i sit alone. and so i stare into the stars as i ponder thoughts of what i could become. of what i should become. i scribble down what lingers in my mind like a poet. but my words aren't as structured as the constructs in the city. so maybe i could just be an architect who designs the tallest, most magnificent buildings. but, the dullness of a ruler guiding my hand and the pressure of keeping measurements just doesn't feel free enough. so maybe i can be an illustrator who sketches his very imagination. but i kno

it was nice of you to stick around- but your mask came off and now your white lies revealed, condescending eyes watch me bleed. i won't believe your eyes no, i won't believe your eyes. so where did your morals go? i think you left them behind when you abandoned all hope. so i'll pick them up for you and i'll light this match to watch them burn away with everything good left in me. thick smoke is blinding and i'm left without vision, but it's okay; i don't need to see to know that this was all in vain. how did i believe your lies? i won't believe your eyes. so wipe the blood from your blade and i'll stitch up these wounds

so it seems our time has come. times past are twisted and mangled, you act with haste and force its shape: concluded with an ugly face you toss it over your shoulder. it's hard for me to know just what it is you need when you seem so emotionless. i tried to understand the words you sent to me, but they were unclear. i hadn't noticed anything changed but then you left me as a memory. so this is to you and i'll set it free to the wind; try to let go of the idea of what you and i could be. listen, for they will ring the bells when you realize that i'm gone; just think of me when you hear their sound, and in the meantime i'll

"i don't feel like i'm perfect enough; i need to get to that point, somehow." i'm sorry to inform you, my dear, for your goal may not be reached. for you to meet such a state is to conquer an impossible feat. for the imperfection lays but within the depths of your mind. for they are buried beneath your will to believe, believe that perfection is not created, but for you to find. for you see, my dear, perfection is merely a perception. an illusion. perceived in infinite variations, often with many an obscure perspective. and so you see, my dear, while you persist you will find it least effective, for you must find it within

there is said to be a bridge; a beautiful arched bridge surrounded by an aura so dark that anyone who would cross would have their saddest thoughts surface all at once. each step would stir them, each breath would feed them. at the end lay an archway; it was here that it was rumored that these thoughts are cleansed, and true happiness will be found. however, it is mostly unheard of; as most people are driven mad and turn back too soon- while others would be brought to jump from its side. beneath is a rocky river; a river that holds the lives and sorrows of the weak. however, beyond the bridge live the strong minded, who

"it's ironic. how the water is so shitty, yet, it's so beautiful." i sit there, in the seat next to her. thinking about what i've become- what we've become. in regard to me, she's a master optimist... and me? i'm the petty pessimist. the Sun beams down on the jet-black car, in which we are enclosed, and everything else too. and as the chaos in my mind runs amuck, the voice, it gets angrier. it keeps telling me these things, these things i don't want to believe. as i untangle one knot within the chaotic network of encrypted thoughts, two more knots are created, and thus, a loop is created. a little hell, within my mind. the heat, it seems