I think I know these people
When they are only real to me
Because I made them alive
But only in my head
When their memories started to fade from mine
I put them onto paper
I made them characters
They made me feel safe
Like I wasn't alone
But I was, and I didn't know

I think I know these people
That I see in my daily life
But when I look at them
They all start to fade away
Because these people are not who I think they are
They are people that I never knew
Because I never bother to hear their story
When I was so caught up in mine
Turns out every person I thought I knew was a lie

I think I know
When someone is sad
Or they are hurting
But I just look at them
With a saddened look in my eye
And walk away
Waving goodbye
To the people I think I know
The people who know everything about me
Know every detail right down to my soul
When I don't really know them
Because I am so self-involved

I know how you feel.
The rage rushing through your veins.
Not knowing who to blame.
Not knowing who to call on.
Not knowing what to feel, how to react.
The only thing you think of is, "To be or not to be"

Truth gets caught in your throat.
Be careful not to choke.
Thunder.
Out of breath.
Heartbeats echo through my body.
Shiver.
Her eyes tangle above me.
She bites her lips.
****, they look so sweet
I need to know what I want.
Move.
Stop staring idly.
Waiting for the moment to be in sight.
The world ain't that bright.
Dazed.
Thoughts scrabbled in my head.
What if?
I touched her by the cheek.
Stroked her by the hair.
And layed a kiss upon her feet.
I guess I'll never know....

I captured a part of him in poetry, put it down to hold against time. Praying with a small part of me, that through art he would always be mine.

Words that pour through ink inspired, he must be a muse. The outcome is always fates desire, because they never let me choose.

For fear of memories of him fading, I scribbled them down with pen. Not knowing where this journey is headed, only where it did begin.

I can place a finger to hold a page, and remember him through verse. Every emotion scribbled down, will he be a saviour or a curse?

My lips could never form the words, to capture what it is I feel. He must be meant for Poetry, so my heart would know it's real.

Not knowing where to go,
or what time,
How do i know?