I don't know what to feel anymore, thoughts of regret and embarrassment.
All that you told me about how you always felt numb well ma'am
I now feel the same way. an empty feeling, no feeling.
"what are feelings?" Is what I keep asking my self.
Delusions, Anxiety, and Fear of something I already know.
Because of that dream where you rejected me,
And told me you like him better then me.
I know you know who I mean.
Just finish me off already.
I promise one day it won't be about you. It u'll be about me....
I’ll tell you what this is all about
Show you the side of me that’s hard to see
Try to understand everything
Now it’s been awhile since I’ve been free
And where ignorance is bliss
I’d have to disagree
There’s no ignorance in freedom like this
The years that pass by are just proof that we’ve grown
Who I’ve become is what I have to show
And I’m not afraid
What’s hopeless is your hate
Let it go and watch it fade
Once you stop being so jaded then you can see the light of day
And when you’re in the middle of warfare
Go ahead and say your prayers
Just don’t hold any expectations
Most likely nobody will hear
You can live your life in vain
If you dare*
Why don’t you ignore the lies
It’s not all just black and white
For me there is no turning back
So here’s to the past
Let me give you a clue
Honesty never dies
And it’s true
I never go down without a fight
This part of me there is no compromising
I’ll live up to my potential
If I don’t then it’s all just down hill
If you’re scared of the dark
Don’t let fear be your trade mark
Today’s the day
I’m headed for an unknown place
And you know what
I’ll be brave
Running is degrading
So I’ll make sure to look this in the face
Don’t look back when there’s so much in front of you
Don’t hold back when there’s win and lose
If you love me like I'm leaving, I won't go.
If you love me like I'll be here forever, you've already lost me.
If you love me like I'm irreplaceable, I'll take to you with the same respect.
If you love me like you do all the rest, I'll step down so you can make your rounds
If you love me like I'm almost close enough to touch, I'll move in closer.
If you love me with a heavy arm around my shoulders, I'll fall to the weight and sink.
If you love me like I'm all you can see within a 100 mile radius, I'll zoom in on you and won't let your gaze go.
If your eyes wander and roam, I'll do just the same,
For I have no time for anything that isn't breathtaking, capturing, engrossing, daunting, exhilarating or exciting.
I'm not asking for perfection,eticulousky crafted love and endless adoration.
I'm asking for a fight, for a consistent effort. I'm asking for you to not give up when you already have me.
If you love me like you don't have me, I'll be yours.
If you love me like you have me, I surely will never be so.
I know my age is a factor; I'm too young to have anything that mature or breathtaking. But I find myself disappointed in what I receive sometimes because I want love that lasts and endures. I want something grand and heart wrenching because it's that damn powerful. It's not ideal or realistic but I just want someone out there to look at me like I'm all there is to be seen, and continue to look at me like that forever. To me, that's love. Never giving up, even when you get all you've dreamt of and more. You keep trying for it, fighting. Because love isn't easy, it's not for anyone who isn't willing to try.
Love is daunting, scary, time consuming, laborious, and so much more. But it is SO worth it. I'm just here, waiting for someone that might look for me for 10 years and never stop looking at me after.
There was fresh flowers
on the grave
that Jane showed you
outside the small church
the sun was warm
were just over
the hedge surrounding
you could hear them
munching the grass
and trotting by
unconcerned by death
or the symbols
and Jane said
the tractor fell
on top of him
the other month
at the flowers laid there
bright in the sunlight
a small glass vase
holding a smaller bunch
child picked maybe
they'll have to
move out now
that he's dead
a tied cottage
and you could see
in her features
the tearful eyes
mouth slightly open
broken china pieces
where will they go
the mother and children?
the local council
will house them
she gazed at the grave
and picked up
a small flower
from the nearby grass
and laid it
by the other flowers
God bless him
in His peace
she said softly
over the hedge
a bird called
from the hedgerow
you looked at her
a blue ribbon
in her dark hair
her green top
and black skirt
one of the dangers
she said quietly
she moved away
and you followed
and she held out a hand
and you took it
into the small church
in one of the pews
inside and stared
at the stained glass windows
sunlight pouring in
like liquid gold
the flagstone floor
and pew end
at the front
and her hand
still held yours
life and living
and she and you
in his God's peace
and the cows
munching the grass
and birds calling
the eternal why.
You tried to shove the words back into my mouth
but they had already slithered into your ears
and coiled around your brain stem,
that carry the taste of blood
on my lips,
the blood I spat out in the shower
carried no metaphors
or remnants of sympathy
no remorse for the simple truth.
honesty without hesitation,
tastes a lot like rusted iron
when the recipient
smells of a blurry night
in a hotel mini bar.
They danced on the steps
Of the first methodist church,
Not caring who watched or
How their young feet hurt.
When the clouds rolled over
The sun and the wind ceased
To be breathing, they
Stopped their tom foolery and
Accepted that life sometimes is still.
They walked to the water.
There they saw the ships bound
Across the waves like rabbits
Or horses through golden tinted field.
They were scared for the sailor's,
The sailor's never knowing they
Were thinking of them at all.
After the water, leaving the sailor's
On their waves, they wandered to
The fishermen's docks, where
Crooked poles and wavering hulls
Stood erect and set pointed to the sun.
These were the men of patience
And respect, feeling death and life
Around them in dualistic harmony.
Because they held no lure or pole,
They watched the masters work as
Masters usually do. The sun trickled
Through thin white cloud and the
Wind pushed the twos hair over brow.
The masters were discontent
In their catch and their day. Their frowns
Showed their failure and they wished
That the cold winter weather
Would soon pass them and go away.
The two thinking of two different things,
Then conversed on where they should
Go to next. One said the tower, where she
Had never been before, and the other said
The park, where he had been many times.
Their differences were their love and
Their love was what kept them entwined.
Just then, in the heat of silent argument, a
Master pulled up hard on his bamboo like rod.
"A catch," the man screamed in his native tongue,
"I've got a catch here! Won't you see! Won't you see!"
The two scurried over to where the master
Stood, their eyes peeled to the end of his line. And
As the man reeled and reeled and reeled, he
Soon did reveal a battered tin can and a weathered old boot.
The master plopped the two on the crooked
Wooden dock, cursing to the God in his mind.
The two picked up the boot and the can and said,
"Thank you" and ran up the salty concrete strand.
As they reached their bus stop, they realized
What they'd done and started to laugh at all
Of their fun. The two giggled and cackled,
Screamed and roared, until the two could no longer
Take anymore. After a minute or two, the sky
Straightened out, turning full blue, so the birds
In the sky who soared and cooed, showed they
Really had no rules they were forced to uphold.
The two agreed for home. When their
Bus appeared, they both felt the same, seeing that
Living together was a much better game.
Tomorrow would be another start, just like
Today was another part of a puzzle never
To be finished, only taken to heart.
Find the words to say
Let the tears rain
Let them pour down your face
And wash your pain away
The sun will come out
I need something to believe in today
Jealousy is a cruel thing
A green monster who loves to play
The thought of it stings
Didn't notice the fear overcoming me
Now my sanity is going under me
I know what you like to drink to
The bottles blue
Yeah, you love the taste of Bombay
Theres a bottom to that bottle
And your already halfway
I won't lose if life's a game
I'll gamble it till I have no more blood to pay
I promised myself I'll make the pain go away
My lover's dead
and I like him better that way.
When he was by my side,
I did not know what to say
as my heart was always
in a horrid, constant state
of incomprehensible joy,
my emotions so great,
they overtook my mind,
and all I could do
was let myself be loved
and sigh graciously in lieu.
My lover's dead,
but he still haunts my mind.
He hides silently, waiting
in every place I can find,
pulling me to him
with invisible strings
so he can entrap me in the felicity
that young love brings.
But I am tired, so tired,
of being in love,
of the pain that overtakes me
when I am floating above
in blessed happiness,
with him as my wings
waiting to fall,
because love is a capricious thing.
I saw the Martian sunrise today though
for you it was probably still twilight.
My knees had miniature craters in them
perforated by mounds and pebbles of ochre
like that bloody sponge in my chest that
gasped for air as I knelt there asphyxiating
and marveling at how such a sight could
be so exquisite and so anguishing at once.
It obviously didn’t last long; I wasn't wear-
ing a spacesuit or anything like that, and
when I died I knew I had forgotten you,
but then I saw you across the street
through the lawlessness of a sulphurous
Neapolitan thoroughfare, and we exchanged
curious gazes in a bright flash of forever
before I got hit by a bus and then woke up
next to you, strands of blonde tangled in my
fingernails' comb, taste of crimson vinegar
in my mouth. I nudged you and asked you
politely to leave before we suffered another
incident, but you had already got in your car
and pulled out of my driveway, cheeks flushed
but in your hurry you went and got side-
swiped by some drunkard going 100 mph.
My eyes teared up—yours would have too!
if you had seen what I saw in that mangled
corpse of what had just been a Volvo but
was then no more than crumpled origami.
It seems even in my dreams within dreams
within dreams I can never get rid of you. I’m
reluctant to close my eyes tonight for fear
that you’ll kill me instead this time and
all this dying is rather exhausting, I’ll have
you know. I’d prefer to live a terrestrial day or
two, with you, as human beings, but it seems
limbo is the only place we were meant to exist.
Like a cradle in which we
Are born, ever so fickle and
Nature never easy to pinpoint. Thoughts of a
Gargantuan proportion categorized
Under a spectrum of grammar
And syntax. Can you ever really
Get the emotion in devotion, or is
Every sentence just another incomplete expression of 'heart'?
It beats. It lives.
Simply as Y-O-U or I. Our unscrupulous baby.
Lazily, even the speaker of this (un)natural
Isolation of symbols and syllables can but
Frivolously transcribe with childish fervor
Every glimpse of wonder that appears before his mind.