Bear with me on this please
I've been craving creativity rather absently
Dismally, there's nothing to guide me
No blissful excitement
No helping hand of inspiration
Not even a half beaten idea
Just a need to reclaim
What I feel like I've lost
(Or what's been stolen from me)
These are just some words within lines
Forming a confession to relieve the aimless craving inside
Was it me, you?
I could not know.
As you sit by the veranda, I watched us fall down feet from each other
Years ago, our legs were entangled.
A choice made, that would change my life
Moving, living, and being together - then, nothing planned.
And now we don't see our plans as one,
And who could say what made that happen...
I hate you
I hate you for making me catch feelings
I hate you for telling me nice things
I hate you for making me think I was healing
I hate you for playing with my heart strings
I hate you for leaving so soon
I hate you for finding someone else so fast
I hate you for telling me I was your moon
I hate you for telling me to forget my past
I hate you for making pinky promises
I hate you for showing me your favorite songs
I hate you for telling me to give more people chances
I hate you mostly for just stringing me along
I love you, she said
I know, he replied sleepily
Lost in each other's eyes
You are the smoke from a lit cigarette
And you’re the ashes that fall from it too
Not to mention you’re the poison
That lurks inside the seemingly
Innocuous white paper
You’re the waves crashing on the beach
You’re the sets I can never quite escape
And you’re the water dragging me down
Drowning me deep under the sea
You’re the sting of vodka
The cold glass in my hand
You’re the trail of fire
Running down my throat
But you’re also the heat of a campfire
And the sparks dancing in the air
And the cool breeze blowing the smoke
Far far away from me
And I’ve yet to understand
How those two sides
How that oil and water
Coexist in one being
And I don’t think I ever will
And if you’re all that good
And all that bad
And all those metaphors
Wrapped in the enigma that is you
What does that make me?
Does your being the cigarette
Make me the lighter?
Or does it make me the smoker
Who just can’t quit?
Does your being the waves
Make me the current?
Or the beach you’re crashing down on?
Does your being the vodka
Make me the bottle that holds you?
Or the alcoholic who can’t put you down?
If you ever get the answers to these questions, you know where to find me.
The woeful moans of autumn show that love did leave us long ago.
Two souls defined by the kind of conceit
held together by passion's sweet summer heat.
Blossomed between each beautiful bloom,
they did nothing but consume;
until all that was left of the love that they lost
was frozen under winter's weary frost.
Blanketed under snow so white,
ready to start things over; to make things right.
The woeful moans of autumn show
that love did leave us
clutch them tight
don't let your eyes
show the fright
don't be seen
clench your jaw
contain the screams
try to blend in
look like the rest
i give up
i'm letting it out
don't run away
listen to my shouts
i'm telling the truth
the world is my jail
there's no time to live
only to fail
so i'm done trying
to walk this rope
until the world figures out
there's no hope