"It happened eight months ago. You should be okay by now. It isn't an excuse." I'm told after admitting I don't have the drive to really do anything anymore. I really wasn't trying to use it as an excuse.

Today I was going for a run,
It was beautiful out. The sun was hitting the trees in such a way that I would never be able to capture fully with a camera.
I had just gotten back from a family party.

I was thinking about it, who I saw, what went on, something was missing, someone was missing, suddenly I was not running anymore.

I was crying. I was hunched over trying to compose myself. I began to panic.

The words from his note, "I'm sorry" flashed in my head like police lights. What could I have done? I asked. There was nothing you could do. I told myself.

Each realization hit me like a bullet. Memories flooded into my mind. Just short beautiful moments.

I tried to push them back so desperately. I want to save them. I do not want to wear them out to the point where one day I will not be able to remember the crinkled eyed smile I loved so much.

I tried to catch my breath. It was no use. I couldn't.

I haven't been able to since September. I don't feel like I will ever be able to.

Almost eight months ago my grandfather took his own life and I'm told I should be okay. I'm told I should be able to go about my life normally.

"Okay." I respond.

There's a devil in each of us,
And an angel lives there too.

I saw the angel inside me,
Begging in tears to be set free.

But the devil stepped up,
shutting her up for so long.

I almost forgot her plea,
So I carved to set her free.

No one did understand,
How much this meant to me.

They stopped me for good,
Which stopped me from good.

It's been too long since then,
When i last saw her,
I'm afraid they killed the angel in me...

Have you ever loved so hard, you felt a pain in your chest ?
Or were left with dried tears ?
Did you torture yourself at night wondering if they were doing the same?
What do you do when days feel like months and months feel like years?
Food starts tasting bland indicating nothing else matters.
I wanted to close the blinds during my blindness love.
Permenantly destroying our memories together and forgetting you existed
Love is a drug, it will feel like ecstasy and then you turn into a fein.
Hoping you get another fix from those sweet tender lips.

I saw you in widow's eyes.
I heard you in her cries.
I smelt you in wood and fire.
I felt you in funeral pyre.

I saw you sitting on ground.
I heard you in violin's sound.
I smelt you in burning heart.
I felt you in man sitting apart.

I saw you within lost child.
I heard you in his heart wild.
I smelt you in anxious sweat.
I felt you on his cheeks wet.

Not sure if you searched me;
Or somehow I found thee;
Much love for me in you I see.
Now you ever reside in me.

I have an intimate relationship with
Pain

Look at me
My skin
Has dealt with a lot


                         I have lived through
                         Tumors and attacks
                         Cuts and bruises from me
                         Bruises from him


My poor skin
In the end
This damage is
All for naught
Because


                            *"Scars are only **** on guys..."

You weren’t worth the
Hundred dollars it cost to
Keep you in my car. 
Princess got poached by the
League of Losers with Pedestrian Ideals.

I’d spit venom in your direction, if 
Poison meant anything to you. But
Akin to most things, so sub-human,
You miss the world moving around your
Ever pulsating veins, and repel these
Toxins with a slip of the tongue.

Around you I could line
Bodies of those you’d loved and left.
Each clasping hands with one another,
Privy to a specific type of pain, only you can
Deal out. And

In the center of the circle you’d
Stare, stunned by your state of
Affairs, and flings. Collectively concerned
For the safety of your
Rotting consciousness.

One by one, I could set these men
On fire, and hand you a place 
Where your head could be danced off.
Drunken and diving heart-first into
The burning lake of a 
Surfable crowd. Since that’s
All we are, serfs.

I hope the fire gets too close to your
Gorgeous face. I hope the
Love you receive is no more likable
Than a few more licks from the flames.
The scars couldn’t sideline you.
No one can stop ****.