They all have the right lines
But it doesn’t taste as sweet
Rolling off their lips
They call me sexy and gorgeous
But it isn’t as flattering
As when hearing ‘you’re beautiful’
They all have the right moves
But they have their own rhythms
That don’t sync with mine
They pick up on the things I like
But they don’t make anything of it
To remind me that they still notice
They all have the right ambitions
But they have their own agendas
That are opposite of mine
They like the things that I like
But never the little things
That mean the most to me
They all have the right reasons
But they don’t have the safety
That gives me comfort to approach
They all have the things I should want
But they just don’t measure up
To all that they should be worth
They don’t stare into my eyes,
Smiling, with admiration and intrigue
They don’t find subtle ways to compliment,
Their own way of flattering me
They don’t call me “young lady,”
Make me smile for no reason, laugh without trying
They don’t keep me coming back for more,
The sarcasm, kindness, the ease of being myself
They don’t give me the nervous feeling,
Make me clam up, make me happy, all at once
They don’t give me a fire to ignite, to pick the pen up
Be the fictional character in a story inspired by them
They don’t see my insecurities, the flaw in personality
Try to make it beautiful, dare me to embrace them.
They have it all,
But they’re just not you.
I could have him,
But he’s just not you.
One step towards a dream,
One step away from you;
Traveled 1,967 miles from my heart
Left behind those I love
To chase down something I’ve wanted
Since I was a girl,
And though I feel the distance tearing us apart,
It is in the way you speak to me,
The enthusiasm on the other line;
I can hear your sincere pride in me
And it makes it a little easier,
To know that you are happy,
To know that you are hurting, too.
I spend my days staring at a blank page,
Bullshitting lines, tracking trends,
Hashtag #yolo and #currentevents
But the only current event I care about
Is flight 542—my ticket home
To be in the safest place I’ve ever known
And tonight when I look up,
Look out at the sky,
I’ll see the colors of nostalgia,
You have painted my skies
With blues and deep crimson,
Every breath you steal
Is a moment that comes to life,
Blending together like you’re sitting here, too
Looking out at the same view,
Hold onto me tight, babe,
I’m coming home soon,
I swear it,
And if you miss me tonight, squeeze me tighter
Because if you ask me to stay,
I won't fight it, just promise me,
Just don’t let go.
His arms wrapped around me,
Blanketing me in warmth,
It’s the safest I’ve ever felt,
And he whispers to me,
“You’re so beautiful,”—
I don’t believe him.
He kisses me on the forehead,
I can hear his heartbeat,
Like my favorite melody,
And his lips tenderly press on mine,
He loves me—
At least for tonight.
His fingers brush my hair past my ear,
Those dark morsels melting into mine,
He can see the truth, and so can I…
He can’t take his eyes off me—
In this vacant, lonely room.
He laughs at my jokes,
The way he vents to me
He knows I care, that I’ll always come back
He doesn’t hold back—
And I can’t hold on much longer.
He talks about the future,
And I tell him about my dreams,
We talk of the places we’ll go,
All the sites we’ll see, encounters we’ll revel in
He believes in me—
I want to believe him, too.
He called me one night,
Wanted to catch up like we used to,
Told me nothing has changed,
I told him everything has changed;
The distance is settling—
And I can’t stop it from growing.
He is fading into my doubts,
Begging myself to forgive, to understand
Watching our film, reciting all our lines
Anything to keep me within his reach,
Tells me he wants to see me next time I’m in town—
And I know I’m going to fall into those lies again.
You have me on the other end of the line
twirling your poison, you know I want it
and I know what you want, I know you want it bad
You have the sweetness to persuade me to give a little
but your sins are tart to my innocence
Like every player, you have your game, I have my rules
There are lines you don’t cross, players you can’t hit,
foul plays receive penalties, no exceptions.
We’re going round and round;
your hand is hovering over my flame,
the oxygen escaping your candor;
my light is breathing, inhaling your temptation.
I bring you close, my hands pacing.
You’re hot and hard, I like that.
Your lips tracing my curves,
the way your calloused fingers
press against my skin, I like the way you taste;
it’s that poison pulsing in every vein,
that delicious satisfaction of white chocolate,
savory, silky bliss upon the tip of my tongue.
You’re starting the friction between us,
I can’t stop what you’ve begun,
mesmerized, fantasized, but not really here:
this isn’t real, just a vision I drew, only for you.
You’re begging for it, and I feel guilty for a moment;
then I remember what it is you truly want
and I don’t feel so bad.
I can tell you’re mad, I can’t blame you
wanted something you can’t have,
something I won’t give up to you.
You tell me that I twist and tease
but I tell you that you churn and provoke.
You play me hard;
It’s not so fun when it comes back ‘round.
You had me fooled, cheated in my game
so I fold, and give you a new hand,
say it wasn’t meant for you to win,
and here we go again…
except this time, I’ll let you deal.
56 days sitting in silence
counting teardrops, bloody ink stains
crippling a light, crumbling on
soot powdered skies.
A 26 minute phone call,
rekindled, overflowing kerosene
sinking into phosphorous laden lips,
an explosion of undisclosed desires.
Locked and loaded,
he has his finger on my trigger
and my God...
have I missed that touch.
I'm sure by now you have forgotten all these memories...
engraved beneath flesh, three simple reminders
an idle pen tucked behind your ear
words, promises sent
times you carried me home, and laughed about life
don't leave yet,
don't forget this friendship we have
I can't forget that last goodbye before I left
I tried not to cry
no, don't let go just yet
but if you must stay here, I'll still wait for you
how high I can see your dreams floating away...
how high I can see us climbing the stars shining for us
and tonight, I sit under an empty sky
I swear you're sitting right beside me,
it's a sight you've finally brought to life
under palm tree slumbers, you smile
I'm sure by now you have been dreaming of better days...
running along white sand beaches, sleeping beneath the sun
I have the slur of the whiskey
grinding on a contradiction.
They all say, “You can’t—
You’ll never make it.”
but their tongues drenched in kerosene
stuck to a match, ignited.
I’ve tripped, skidded, and face-planted,
trudged in paths not meant for me,
witnessed tragedies not meant
to be experienced
with calloused hands;
friction of ink on rotten lines
bit by chipped teeth.
Grew up with the burden
of the “Hooded Order”
hanging over my head
and people so wrapped up
in the next controversy;
“God hates fags”
spray-painted in black
on sidewalks surrounding
a place of insecurity.
but nobody listens,
nobody hears the truth.
It’s a town that fails to believe
in anything greater than it’s past,
full of hatred and sinful memories
of what used to be.
And they all ask, “How’d you do it?
Why did you leave home?”
because for 21 years
I never called it home;
a wise man once told me,
“home is not necessarily
a house or a territory,
and it’s relationships
that you create,”
and in the hardest times,
he lifted my chin,
said, “Now, remember:
no need for a voice
if you can’t make it heard.”
Took three and a half years,
to lose myself completely
in insanity, self-hatred
to remember those words,
dig for that voice,
and here I stand, scars in hand
microphone to my lips,
never been happier to say:
I’m not proud of the places I’ve been
but I have no regrets,
just lessons learned;
I’m not where I want to be,
but it is better than where I was,
a step closer to where I want to be;
and through it all, through this hell
I’d do it again, I’d do it the same
because I wouldn’t be who I am
if I was never who I was,
and that was the hardest lesson.
"I can't take this anymore
I love you, and I'm sorry
that it has to be this way"
And I'm reaching out
down she goes, out of sight
let the darkness consume her.
"It's my time,
I hope you understand"
And the phone is ringing
I'm running, can't breathe
but I won't stop;
fell to my knees
and made a deal with God
to put my life in his place
just to give him one more chance.
“I can’t do this anymore,
I’m not strong enough,
I’m not good enough for you”
And the music is playing
stood on a bridge
looking down at the ravines,
people are passing by,
everybody is watching
but nobody will speak;
a gentle voice breaks the melody
“Are you okay?”
the compassion seeping into my wounds,
flooded with guilt, I nod
as she smiles and slowly continues
He said nothing
I remember receiving the news
“He died in his sleep—
I had no idea he was having trouble,
but I guess if it was that bad,
then let him be at peace.”
They are talking about the face value
of this tragedy of a friend,
avoiding the topic of what really happened
and the anger is pulsing,
not at them, no, at myself
for not being the friend I pride myself on being
I convinced myself that he could’ve been saved
that if I truly listened a couple years ago
when he talked about deeper issues,
I could've been the friend I promised to be.
I remember telling him,
“I’m always here for you,
I know we may seem like strangers,
but you shouldn’t be alone;
I may not understand,
and I might not have answers,
but I will always listen.”
I didn’t hear the cry
on that cold January night,
celebrating daddy’s 65th
a friend took his last breath.
He told me
I wanted to pay respects,
but my heart broke;
I couldn’t forgive
what I didn’t know,
what I’ll never understand
and the friend that is now
watching over us up above.
I saw pictures a few days later,
looking at all the hearts;
he brought together one last time,
old friends, good memories,
one last laugh, one last drink
to say our final farewell,
in a small town that never forgets
the people it has lost.
It is in the way that voice
tickles my thoughts
like it knows the lack of remorse
won’t unveil candor feelings;
Ink weeping from abandoned couplets
bound to a sinner’s last prayer
to a mimicked power of Hermes
as the coal sinks to the bottom
of a stocking hung over fire,
charring the begging lust
on delicate fingers stealing innocence,
russet stains clumped on the sheets;
They’re all staring,
whispers snagging flesh,
twirling the tip
in sorrowful shadows
that follow with grudge laden lies
sitting on cherry balmed lips
curled tightly in the corners;
Iron pooling at the back of the throat,
stranger’s sanity never tasted sweeter;
A lick of salt
off the backhand to the cheek
gambling on forged lines
forbidden to tangle that tongue
with endless remedies
for feeble minds to sleep
so helplessly depraved;
No mercy of the uninvited,
just twisting thumbs
into cracked arteries,
the chambers, hypotonic
acidity dissipating the words,
flick of the page, wounds overturned:
a new beginning.
1894 miles from my heart
left in the hands of my liberator,
running on the twenty-seventh hour,
insomnia running its course;
I can hear you exhale defeat
but I see your hope
melting in those morsels,
bass pounding on the page,
reminiscing a memory burned
of a time when nobody believed in me
said I was a plague to the good of humanity;
All I wanted was a chance to be heard
to write honestly, frankly
to be the voice of those who can’t speak,
to stand for something more than just me.
I didn’t want to earn great fortunes,
or even an engraving in a hall of fame;
I simply wanted to make a difference,
to save a life, to grant someone a second chance,
an opportunity to do something amazing
with whatever beauty, passion and desire.
On a Wednesday,
I met a man, so genuine and curious.
We dreamed of California beaches,
to sit under palm trees he’s never seen,
write stories Hollywood couldn’t imagine,
the kind of films they’d plagiarize:
a creativity you can’t forge;
We laughed about the Bible preachers
staying up late with friends
getting high on better days,
but we never gave up on each other
always claimed to be: it is what it is
because if it’s meant to be,
it will find a way;
We poured our pain in open palms,
traced the shadows of our pasts,
time we won’t ever get back
mistakes we can’t undo;
You gave me a part of you
I keep safe in my heart,
and I gave you my heart,
told you I don’t want it back
unless you’re here to stay forever,
because someone like you doesn’t come around twice;
So when the phone rang
handing me a way out, a monumental step
towards everything I ever wanted,
paused before I walked away,
gave you a letter with a vow:
“I love you,
I’m chasing my dreams,
that, I know you understand;
Run away with me,
and if you don’t, I’ll miss you dearly—
You won’t be replaced, or forgotten
because those three words
are staked on the tip of your pen;
When you miss me, whenever you need me,
let my compassion set you free.”
You wrapped me in your arms one last time,
“I know we’ll meet again, someday;
Just know that I wish you well;
I know you’ll make me proud.”
People have been talking;
It has been 49 days since I’ve last seen you,
wanted you to come out west,
because this dream isn’t as sweet without you,
and on a lonely night, I thought of you,
whispered to you: “I’m writing you a screenplay,
and one day, I will play it for you on the big screen.”
You chuckled, and I felt the heat from that smirk,
“I love the motivation, and look forward
to see who gets their script on screen first.”
It’s more than a screenplay though:
I’m writing you an escape, a reason to run
I’m injecting the poison, let it burn, and churn inside
to apply friction to that phosphorous laden tongue,
to chase down that Oscar I know you’ll win.
I want to be the person that never gives up,
that encourages you endlessly,
loves you unconditionally,
I want to be the reason you stand up,
that you earn all the satisfaction
bringing to life the ideas you were so scared to try.
They don’t see the marks,
“You don’t seem like the type,”
a common misconception;
They can’t see the scars
so they always fail to believe
in all the places I have been,
the people I have met,
the terrible things I have witnessed,
the amazing things I have been blessed with.
They’re wrapped up on superficial wealth,
clothes you wear, the way you walk
and the way you say “pop,”
Or how you know who you are
at only 22 years young,
because you have traveled down paths
that forced you to fail,
to remember that they don’t define you.
They’re counting the numbers,
adding up a sum that has no worth to you,
subtracting the truth, the beauty of it all,
and multiplying the fallacies.
They’re counting all the stars,
unaware of the voids they leave unappreciated,
not realizing that without the voids
there would be no stars to gaze upon,
that wishes would never be thrown up
and nobody would ever reach,
those finer details, the disregard;
we’re bound by imperfection,
that without those jagged pieces
we would never bleed, never feel
what it’s like to be judged so harshly
for someone you’ve never been.
They can’t see how much it hurts,
to be criticized for the experiences
they have never been through
and choose to ignore, choose to brush it away.
You laugh because it is clear,
you have blatantly laid it out:
all the quotes, the bond between
the past, God, the future
the betrayal, doubt, the fear
turned to wisdom, hope, strength;
Change comes to those who want it,
and I want to change your mind,
to make you believe in the fire
that sparks from rage,
in the hollowness
where your empathy used to reside;
Compassion must seize to exist:
let your ears speak what you can’t see,
let your heart decide what you can’t understand
and let your tongue taste revival,
the smell of liberation
settling in your perforated lungs,
like feathers of dandelions
spreading the growth of false allure
sprouting into cancerous insecurities.
Breathe resistance to conformity,
let individuality take you over
and consume the uniqueness,
the creativity, the passion, desires
that lead you to bleed sincerity,
and the incredible dreams
you can create, live, fulfill,
There is a girl standing in front of her reflection
outlining the imperfection with hateful eyes
pinching flesh that is too tough to cry, to feel;
a finger pressed to lines of the past, a map of appreciation
of the places she has been, of the journey to where she is now.
Awoke next to a mistake, and snuck out the door
nails digging in, a desperate attempt to rid herself of the filth;
walked home under starlit skies that begged for a wish.
Her eyes tracing the shadow beside her as it begins to rain
and at the end of the path, there’s a bridge over the ravine,
she stands at the edge, breathing in the guilt of a lonely night.
There is a man admiring a girl from afar
deep in thought, admiring the ink tainting her fragile frame
wondering where those merlot stained lips delicately pressed.
He notices the tremble in her hand, the shame she feels in
the way her caramel eyes won’t meet his, and a rage from what made her
think so lowly of herself, to deprive herself of love.
And he goes home, to an empty bed every night
an outline, a vision of a woman whose place was once next to his side
pillow damp with regret, the nights she would return late
turning her back as she sealed sin in pursed lips left untouched;
her vacant eyes glaring back at his disregard of superficial beauty
walked out leaving him to ask what he did to fill her with deceit,
clenched fists, slurred words stumbling upon strangers’ lips
filled lungs with charcoal and heavy veins pulsing doubt,
as he enters another realm, a place he doesn’t wish to be;
And he can’t undo what he has done to make her feel that way
fell short, felt nothing, broke her heart and ran to find salvation
in a heart never meant for him to hold, of a woman he couldn’t have.
She’s ready to fall, to give up on all that wasn’t meant to be;
the wind beneath her wings, she takes another breath
burning in the back of her throat, and she leans forward;
Arms wrap around her as she falls backward,
seething fury and confusion fill her decrepit irises that finally meet his;
a sincerity she hadn’t seen in a while enveloped her, replaced
and he cried, “I couldn’t stand the way you breathed so faint,
your pain I can feel. You’re alive. I want you to feel again, I want you
to feel all that you’ve restored in me, to feel what I feel when I look at you.”
She says, “You don’t even know me, the battles I have to fight each day.”
She begins to walk away, and he can’t stand it, won’t let it happen again;
he catches her wrist, the scars pressed to his fingertips, she winces
and he understands now, he has been there before, engraved the truth, the misery.
Pulling her into his arms once more, she wraps her arms around him
lays her head to his chest, a sound so beautiful, pacified insecurity
a safety net, an anthem that always brought her home.
He whispers, “You deserve to be loved, to be appreciated.
You’re beautiful, and I want to make you feel it every day.
I want you to believe in it, that you truly are, not just to me.”
They found common ground, created a place to discover,
to create themselves, and learn that mistakes don’t define you;
built a love, a connection to another world only for the two of them,
danced on ink drawn lines, words that can’t be erased;
spent the days laughing, dreaming of changing the world together.
A year later, she told him goodbye, said, “I love you,” promised to never forget
the nights they spent talking about better days, vacations they planned
carved a spot just for him, a reminder of lessons learned;
Been a month and she can’t stand the distance, looks up at the moon
reminiscing the memory of his face, his tender embrace,
the way his eyes never strayed from hers, and the way he laughed.
It wasn’t the same, she knew times had changed, didn’t take much
to realize maybe it wasn’t meant to be, that she’s the only one fighting anymore
She inhales slowly, her voice soft, shaking with what she says next,
“Dear God, I love him so much and just wanted to take a moment
to thank you for allowing us to cross paths. I can’t tell you how grateful
I am for this friendship and the time I’ve been able to spend with him.
He’s such an amazing man that deserves the world, and all the happiness
I wish I could give him. I just wanted to let you know that if this isn’t meant
to be, then know that I only want him to be happy. I want him to find someone
that can make him laugh, that will be loyal and supportive of him, someone
to love him unconditionally, to encourage his dreams, someone to grow old with.
I just want him to be happy, even if that means it’s not with me.
I will love him just the same. Thank you, amen.”
As she fell asleep, he texted her from earlier that day,
she smiled, brushing a tear from the corner of her eye,
and dreamt of being on the beach with him, a day they never made it to.
They laughed as the sun held them close, notebooks out
staring at the horizon glowing a deep indigo infused with pink and orange;
laid back on the sand, his arms cradling her, and that beat
hummed them into a blissful slumber, somewhere they could run forever,
together, never looking back.
My fingers rest upon keys laden with guilt
and I'm playing a melody from deep within
replacing the original lyrics with words I don't mean
You can see it in my eyes, the absence of light
shadows wrestling with empty promises, broken pinkies
a heart that won't mend, a missing piece,
lost in the memory of time, a blurred face erasing lines
once drawn on the crevasse that unveiled truth
Yes, it's the echo of the past creeping up
the sins slowly burning in the arteries, pulsing
the rage, the seething pain of regret, shame forged
on a ledge where your mark still stands, imprinted
fear carved with blood drawn from a dirty blade
and ink you clench so tightly between grit teeth
a scream so excruciating it can't be heard
But on a lonely Monday night, you find that ledge again
looking down, imagining your outline, a weight lifted
yet a stone breaking where your faith once survived
kindred reviving a fire gasping for one last gathering
so you glance up and see that dream you've longed for
the breeze kissing your cheek as the moon gazes back at you
reminding you to reach within, and to reach out
to remember those you left to create yourself,
to give back the passion they restored in you,
that tonight, they're reflecting off the light in the heart of the night
singing that melody you thought you forgot
Tears hushed by that beautiful sound
coming from the truth you lick off chapped lips
It's the love you locked away, stored for a moment that moved you
to stand up, to speak up, to believe that sometime, somewhere
a heart of a stranger you will hold so tender in the open palm of your hand
as you whisper the story of a girl, jaded and conflicted
found her answers in the voids of silence
the anthem she drew on a blank page
that stared back with judgmental eyes
a gaze that dared a new beginning,
to tear the last page of a chapter five pages too long
the lines bending from the misguided pen
frustrated from fighting chapters, words
feelings that don't belong to you,
and even when you fell so hard on broken knees
skid flesh against gravity of hate
You kept pushing on, through wounds gaping
pulling from bone, digging calloused fingertips
to salvation anchored in an unrelenting determination to make it
out of this dead end town, a tumble off the edge
plummeting face first into a glass frame, delicately shattered
each piece intricately sculpted to bite a little harder with every breath
you struggle to keep, depriving your mind of missed memories
of people, places, experiences you can't ever get back
Faking the words don't seep from the ceiling
and when you close your eyes, the shadows don't embrace you
but it's insane how in love you are with misery
convinced it's a reminder that you're alive, that's not enough.
You know those amazing moments when you’re in love, the kind you can close your eyes and relive?
It’s that moment when he looks into your eyes, and he’s smiling. You can tell that he can’t look away. It’s that look when you can tell that he either wants to kiss you, or is simply admiring your beauty. It’s the kind of look that you appreciate, the kind that makes you feel special, that for a split second, you have his full attention and he can’t stop staring.
And that moment when he hugs you. It’s a tight hug, one that you never want to end. It’s the kind of hug where there’s an exchange of undisclosed desires. It’s when you lay your head on his chest and hear that beautiful beat you’ve missed for some time. It’s when you are overcome with a sense of relief, that you’re in the safest place you could possibly be, and he can feel it in your deep breaths, in the way you’re holding him so tenderly in your arms. It’s that moment when you begin to let go that he squeezes you tighter. And when you both finally let go, his hands trace down your arms, as your hands fall to his hips, your fingers hanging from his belt loop.
And that last moment before a long journey towards your future, two thousand miles away from him, he looks at you one more time. Those eyes offering nothing but promise, that though the roads may separate you now, somewhere along the way, your paths will cross again. With a quick wink, that door divides you once again, and he watches you walk to your car, as the tears begin to fall.
I don't want your misery, just want your truth,
No excuses, don't need to know why
I want the words scraped from your tongue, the bittersweet taste of blood
To know the scent of your sins once lingered in an innocent place
And now you purge on severed lines, clotted pens tearing your delicate page
I don't want a vow that can't be spoken honestly, or a kiss that tingles with hate
Because I've placed my heart in filthy hands that were only meant to be shook
A temporary home that was destroyed by calloused pain that ignorance forgot
Of running from weak hearts and endless promises that never stick
Of trying to mend myself from falling over and over again, of being bruised and scarred
Of fighting for ungrateful people, of trying to give second chances to those undeserving
Of putting forth all the unappreciated time and effort to make something work, of being the only one that cares
Of silencing myself from the truth, of these feelings I can't deny
Of remembering past wounds that will never heal, of the lies that can't be untold, of the memories that can't be replaced
Of songs about love, of the good and the bad of it all, of the loops and misguided youth
Of couples, fighting the little fights, falling a little harder, loving a little longer
Of being chased by Mr Right Nows, of being played, of having to be insincere in return
Of waiting for you to run with me, of trying to convince you that I can be the one, of contemplating if this is even worth it, of pretending that I need a guy to feel complete
Of portraying myself as anyone but me.
I’ve been under the radar
been running so fast;
don’t want you to slow me down
‘cause a lady like me goes hard.
I’ve had my fun
been presented with the offers:
Guys that want to play games,
give out lies like puppies for Christmas
always looking over a shoulder,
but I ain’t down with that;
Guys that want a commitment
ready for a diamond ring sealed with a kiss
craving that “give and take” shit
but I don’t want none of that;
Guys so eager to be fathers
a wife that waits on hand and foot,
an outlet for rage, a solution to problems,
but I won’t settle for that
So sick of the small talk, awkward encounters,
all the strings we pull and cut, but never tie,
exhausted from trying to understand
a map of a thousand routes to anywhere.
I’ve had my flag raised
my declaration of independence;
ink is my first love
that has built four walls
strong enough for all the bullshit and drama.
I don’t want to hear your sad song,
don’t care if I have to do this alone
‘cause I keep moving even when the world stops;
with dreams like these, I was born a free spirit
liberated by the possibilities of all the unknown.
Got the 90’s mix blaring sweet invitations to let go,
friction between innocence and passion,
a fire pulsing in crippled veins, starved, suffocating;
Slow dancing under city lights, twirling chance on a fingertip,
whiskey wishes lingering on the brim, nipping for a taste;
Secrets buried in the grains as toes churn,
and laughter conceals in the light of dreams folding,
promises tumbling in cotton clouds,
rippling from the storm rolling in tonight.
Always a busy tone, but nobody wants to talk, no
ink dried, clumped, smeared, permanent,
crumpled letters with words confessing poison tongues
and sugar coated lips licked raw, bitterness;
Brushing wisps of liberation from crystal eyes,
wind turning incomplete pages, stories left unwritten.
Charred hearts and drunken melodies,
sung by lost souls, and perfectly out of tune.
I’ve got a broken heel from running too fast, and standing too tall
but I’ve been waiting for so long, on a clock that watched chances pass by
I have dreams you’ve painted with colors I’d never seen before,
entered a whole new dimension of imagination, a creation I’ve only dreamt of
and you speak so softly on the crevasse of fate embalmed with a bit of hope
You’ve ignited a passion in the dead of the night, a sound reverberating so beautifully off silence
so when I stare up tonight, missing you dearly, I think of all the promises never kept
thought maybe you were just another mistake, something I lost faith in
but realize I’m much closer to wrong, because someone so honest never bit his tongue
the only promise you ever made to me was that “everything will be okay”
I can feel the breath of the night rolling through the open window,
the glow of the streetlamp rolling off the tip of my pen, that spark sending a rush
a reminder you never failed to slap in my face, to fight for what I love
And tonight, I’m raising my voice, because I have this feeling that needs to be shouted from rooftops
when someone revives all the reasons you appreciate the little things,
the laughter during summer days, the life spread in the cry of wind chimes
no need for that shooting star with false hope, or wishes left unturned
just the simple notion that I love you, and love is meant to be given
even if not received, because a wise man once told me,
“Always try to learn to love the ones that don’t show love in return,”
and that’s just what I’m going to do.
I think I fell in love.
No you didn't. You're an idiot.
Thank you for your Ernest thoughts.