There is something I find interesting and almost entertaining about how innocent girls are typically bred into women and boys are modeled into armed men. Even in this modern day and age, we convince ourselves that we are defying the norms.......but there is no such terrible thing. In order to keep sane, we learn what roles "women" and "men" play in society.
Its easier to embrace nature than to oppose it instead.
It is naively assumed that one is ready to take on the unknown world as every year passes. Sadly nobody foresees the emotional and metal implications of it all.

Daydreams turn into ghastly nightmares
Every so often personal obsessions come back and haunt you
Sleepless nights inevitably become your current reality 
Coursing me to question my morality 
Only to come back and terrify me
And compel me to offer a hefty fee

Daydreams turn to nightmares 
While nobody genuinely cares
As life spares nothing 
And deals you a joker
By suffering from one sweet obsession coming back and sleeping under your bed

I'm a sleep deprived monster 
Who wished for insomnia
To travel to Colombia

or it was it Cambodia?

Now that we are talking about my night time endevures shall we discuss my sleep apnea

That turns me into an imposter 
Accused of man slaughter

Do you see my obvious rhymes?

That I've looked up from time to time

Any way 
Let's just say
If I was to die

Would you work with me , pick up my calls 
would you stop,

Stop.

Please stop 
judging me as a whole

We all know you can't bring my misery to a halt 
Even after the malt
And all those Christians cults

It would be too late
I'd already be dead
six feet under

You can mold me

because I can be

anything when I'm clay

You can shape me

I'll be your every thing

Maybe be your every meal

That's he only deal

Cause I'm clay

or should I say clay works

works of clay

heated in the depths of hell's furnace to make me strong

You can't break mE

I will be anything

And I will be everything

Well I'm clay

You can't play

Just cause I'm clay

And if you say

I'll be your everything

Just remember, never yours
Just May's

Smoke ice 

with mice

every Monday night , I want your Monday morning . i want a yet unknown writer. 

|The innocent little things he tells her everyday about what she deserves are all distortions of the truth.  be it simple white lies. she will drink them all up| 

A past life full of 

forgery and falsification

                                                                                             and crooks

 blossoms into one of loud volume, the brooks. 

we define loneliness  and we superpose holiness with our unrighteous deeds. With unicorns and bees.  

hanging and eating cheese in the trees.