I am a glass half full
Transparent and beautiful in my own right
But muddled
I am a glass half empty
Like the realist I am, knowing that sometimes a glass is just a stupid glass

What does a glass matter when all of them are ***** because I couldn't get out of bed today to get the dishes done
Why should I care about half empty or half full when I should definitely just drink the stupid water because I haven't all day and my head is beginning to ache due to dehydration

Why is it that sometimes I can take my life by the reigns and be the best version of myself but that other times it feels like some unknown variable has snatched them away from me and is driving down the freeway in the wrong direction going 90 miles an hour

How hard is it to believe me when I say that I'm okay
I am okay
I swear
But I'm drowning in a sea of my own tears
Oh dear, I wish I hadn't cried so much
Now I'm losing my way, falling deeper into this hole in my head, losing myself and losing you

When the sun rises it will all be gone
I'll wake up and everything will return to normal
And I'll sit at the table with my glass half full.

Hi, hello, good morning
Hi, hello, I miss you
Hi, hello, look at me
Hi hello I love you
Hi hello

I want to write
I feel this so truly, so deeply,
It stifles most other feelings in my stomach, so

Why don't the words just come to me
Why is the feeling so hard to express
I can feel it in my chest, now, dying to get out
And yet the words just don't come they stay locked in my head, a jumble of letters and phrases that just don't match up
This isn't even poetry, it's just a mismatched fantasy, and I'm doing my best to follow along but I'm getting lost along the rabbit trail of my own consciousness.
So... I keep trying. I keep writing. And maybe someday I'll be able to keep up.

I am a complete being,
all on my own,
having put the pieces of myself back together when he broke them at 6 years old.

Parts of me hate other parts of me, this is true.
But those parts of me love me just as feverently as you used to
They see the things about me that you used to adore
It helps me to remember that I am flawed but beautiful

Humans aren't meant to be perfect
That's why none of us are.

The pieces of me that are more you than me don't like the parts of me that are more me than you...
but I don't know,
if that's your fault or mine,
only time will tell.

But as it stands, I'm doing fine.

The pieces of me that are more you than me don't like the parts of me that are more me than you.

This means to say that when I met you, you infected me with your heart and your mind,
You left parts of yourself in me
So clearly that sometimes when you look at me, you see a mirror
You painted my body with your own colors, making me something different entirely

However beautiful this might seem,
There are parts of you that do not like me
So the parts of me that you painted so differently
Despise the parts of me that are truly who I'm meant to be.