Why do I do this to myself,
just as my thoughts are almost safe and sound...

There is a hunger in my eyes,
dreaming of the life we used to have...

There was a time when I would fight for you
just to hear you say...

The cycle never ends,
secrets always remain...

An uninviting memory breaks through my sleep
as I remember the pain of believing...

She sleeps beside the bloody moon,
stars beneath her feet...

These poems are what people will remember us by,
reading between the lines to try and understand...

It is a tragedy that you become intoxicated
and still believe it's not your fault...

So may things can be so hard to believe,
even though they are clear to see...

I know you don't think of me too often,
or if its even us you think about at all...

You are my brother by blood,
whether I like it or not...

Dear Anxiety,
when will you stop stalking me...