Torture papers. (By trap, Certain and Lars.)

[Certain]

an unstoppable force captured the essence of my being
so i chartered a course & masked the questions that were reeling
in my thought process, released my heart in jest
expressed the need to exceed past the dark arch-es
on a torn parchment, my own blood on the quill
i wrote immense rage on the pages still my love ran still
named them the torture papers for its obvious reason
deranged in the brain for the remaining season
battled tremendous odds, yet maintained the same even
shows the length i would go to withstand demands of treason

I'm not an obvious sort. Cobbled together half-heartedly
some thoughts from assorted sordid cartographies
of this map through your arteries. I'm trying in vain.
Lying, deranged but finally, unsightly we gain
something more worthwhile than fighting again.
And it isn't worth waiting nine months for life to begin.
I want to feel everything. I've never healed. My wounds
are just the first part of my black hole of a soul that'll keep you consumed.
I'm done. There's nothing left in this shell of a person.
The sun won't rise until my pride has settled for certain.

My ever-so-perfect imperfections make up who I am
as well as confirming my ascendance to becoming a man.
When one can look at their past and not gloss over mistakes
as something that saddens them,
but of the progress they've made.
No-one's to blame. Life's morbidly short.
The road that you've taken was yours to explore.
So cause a furore every once in a while,
ignoring conformity. Wake up with a smile.
Do something your wildest dreams couldn’t imagine,
- interrupting the silence and disrupting the balance.