I'm in love with a dying world.
My dream is to save a world my fathers generation set fire to.
Probably doomed to failure.
Maybe these words I write could help.
God knows they're better than the ones I speak.
Though real poetry still manages to escape me.
Unless I put it to a beat.
Maybe add a few chords to get people off they're feet.
Or maybe stretch it to a few hundred pages and really give people something to read.

Sometimes it takes running shirtless through the rain.
To remind you what living in the moment means.

6 months till I decided it was time to make my move.
5 parties till I finally got close to you.
8 drinks till I worked up the nerve to talk to you.
20 minutes of talking till I found out you wanted me too.
1 night to realize that this is for sure what I wanted us to do.
Now its going to be 3 months till you come home.
And you wondered why I laughed when you were worried I wouldn't wait for you.

Everything dies.
But in order to die you must be alive.
So as long as air still fills your lungs, be free.
Don't dwell on the rainy days.
Because it can't rain forever.
And if you feel like you're is trapped in a never-ending rainstorm.
Don't be afraid to ask for help.

I act bold to hide how afraid I am.
I act smart to hide how little I know.
I don't want to act anymore.
I don't think I fooled the people who mattered anyway.

A year ago today it was me and her.
That girl who inadvertently started all of this.
I remember walking down her street talking about Oreo's I think.
I remember I was happy I think.
I remember a few weeks later when she tore my heart from my chest.

I remember a few months later when I finally got over her.
I remember it in a fit of yelling and rage.
I remember being able to see clearly.
I remember I was I happy I think.
I remember rekindling an old flame a few weeks later.

I remember sitting in a field by a pond.
I remember dancing in a kitchen.
I remember saying "I love you"
I remember I was happy I think.
I remember a month or two later when I had to leave her behind.

I remember starting fresh.
I remember hot coffee and long nights.
But I also remember teaching myself to sleep.
I remember the first chapter of my first book.
I remember I was happy I think.
I remember the most beautiful eyes I've ever seen.

I guess today is the day for remembering the year, and looking forward to the next.
I look back and I see pain, and tears, and some minor alcohol abuse.
But I also see joy, and new friends, and the fresh air I so desperately needed.
I ****** up a lot in 2014 and if I had the option to go back and change it.
I would decline.
Because right now I'm happy... At least I think.

My lack of confidence in myself is a weight I feel I'll always carry.
Its not like I don't have courage, but its like watered down whiskey.
It still has the burn, but it takes a minute to hit me.
They say if you work hard enough you can do anything you want to.
But every time that I try something new.
It always has the same outcome, ashes and smoke.
Like my attempts at creating something to be remembered by, are nothing but a ******* joke.
So excuse me if I'm not as confident as I try to appear.
Sometimes I guess I just get lost in my own fear.
That I'll end up like my father with no job and no life.
To be left with nothing, but two kids and a ******* ex-wife.
I once thought love was the reason why I wanted to write.
Now I realize I do it just so I can sleep better at night.
Because pixels and pens gave me a confidence I've never had before.
I might not be ready to make that jump yet, but I'm getting closer that's for sure.

Its so easy to say someones wrong.
To call another out for all their faults.
To look down on someone because they wear all black.
Or because they sit on the corner and talk like gangstas.
Its so easy to judge someone just because they don't believe in a God.
Or because they're unashamed to walk with their lover, even though they're the same gender.
Its so easy to fit these people with labels.
Instead of looking at them as they are.
As Sons and Daughters.
As Mothers and Fathers.
As Sisters and Brothers.
Yes its easy to hate.
And you'll be at church every Sunday morning....
But the party every Saturday night.
Because while its easy to hate its hard to look for the wrong in yourself.

Now don't get me wrong I believe that Christ came and died for me and you.
But if you actually read that book you love to quote so much.
You would know he came for them too.

So who do you think will go home with him when our eyes finally close?
The atheist that preaches love?
Or the priest who preaches hate?
I suppose only God knows.

I don't want to be a thought on your mind.
I want to be a memory you can smile about as you're trying to fall asleep.

I don't know if it's really much of a statement.
I guess its just letting go of another thing that was holding me back.
It's something I've been getting better at.
One thing I haven't gotten better at is getting this girl off my mind.
Because I know she's bad for me.
Probably way more than the smoke ever was.

I often get knocked off course.
Stuck in places where I don't want to be.
And no matter how many times this happens I never seem to catch on.
Because these are the places where I tend to find the people who end up meaning so much to me.

I'm glad you got stuck with me.

I want to thank-you.
For reminding me all I need on this earth is my life, faith, and dream.
I'm sure you'll think I'm mad.
But that couldn't be further from true.
Because I never needed you.
I just hope you understand you don't need me too.
Besides we both have more important things to do.

I've discovered what this town was missing for me.
Family who loves me.
Not simply because we were born of same blood.
But because they choose me to love.
And I think I may have finally found that.
Which will make it all the harder when my tail-lights brighten the dust on this town for the last time.
Because I know without a doubt in my mind.
When I'm really gone... Then I'm gone for good.
But maybe; just maybe I've found my reason to make a visit home.

Fireball whiskey and cinnamon toast crunch.
Laughter and stolen glances.
That could have turned into stolen kisses given half a chance.

That's all I've ran on today.
But I feel refreshed, and alive.
Last night I was blessed, I was surrounded by people who burned with passion.
I wrote until my mind ached and my eyes refused to look at the screen.
And I fell asleep with a sore back and blood on my hands.
And yet despite my mind and body drained I feel so awake.
Maybe it was just seeing the smile I managed to put on her face.

My breath reeks of coffee and my hands are stained with ink.
I can't remember the last time I was this content.
But I would like to keep it this way.
For now at least.

I never used to feel comfortable in my own skin.
If I wasn't hating the way I looked in the mirror, then I was feeling ashamed of the way I could never manage to speak my mind.

But now when I see my reflection I've learned to smile at what I see.
And when someones trying to shove their hate down my throat, I've learned to spit my own right back in their face.

Blame it on the girl, or blame it on the *****.
It doesn't really matter to me.
I'm just happy that I can finally fill my own shoes.