i see you smile at me from across the room
our eyes play a friendly game of hide and seek
i go over the pros and cons of a polite introduction
because your grin has made me weak
it seems that in this the good out weighs the bad
so i goofily saunter over and you wink
i am utterly baffled at your face up close
and it was suddenly hard for me to think
it seems so casual to talk to you like im not terrified
and i even laugh a little when you ask me to dance
im still waiting for you to up and leave
because i simply refuse to believe in romance.

and I said to myself, "you're going to be
alone now."
and that it would be fine.
but i've lost all meaning of fine
and if you look into my heart
you'd cry.
as that is where I lock my pain.
and if you dare, look deeper and you will find,
the scars that hide in the darkest of times.

Everyone has a habit.
Mine is biting my nails until I start to ******* fingers.
Everyone has a habit.
Mine is falling in love to quickly, like a clumsy school girl who always falls into her crushes arms, just to be dropped
Everyone has a habit.
Mine is getting rejected like a credit card that has been maxed out.
Everyone has a habit.
Mine is always saying the wrong thing. When ever I talk to a girl I become my secret identity : loser boy! My one power is repelling women away quicker than the flash runs around a shopping mall with a Visa card .
Everyone has a habit.
Mine is brushing my hair until it almost looks like something that I could love, my hair is a chain that links me to my skin color, like a slave hooked to an auctioneers stage.  So I try to brush away my skin like  getting rid of thick curls will change my heritage.
Everyone has a habit.
I have this really ****** habit of never being happy. I always pick apart things and find some reason to hate myself. Im always to tall, to black, to stupid. I can't be happy for long because when I do I destroy myself like an evil villains plot when he presses the self destruct button because he's lost confidence in his plan.
My biggest habit is smoking cigarettes made of sadness, and allowing depression to infect the rest of my body like terminal cancer. I can't recall if I smoke  a pack a day anymore, it's a part of my everyday life. With every meal, movie or social interaction, I need a drag of sadness. There's this girl though, her smile is a nicotine patch, her voice is a message from my dr saying "we've found a cure, for your depression."
Now i can put down the pack.

I have so much to say...
But lemme keep it simple

I love you.

in war
i am told
the bombs
were dropped
upon
the hallowed souls
while the
fear lives
inside of
battlefields