I've only ever felt truly happy in my dreams
Happiness in the real world
Is fleeting usually
And doesn't stick around
Joy
Joy is that feeling of content
That state of utter bliss
That never ending happiness
True joy, I have yet to experience

When I was young
I found amusement
In my ability to sleep through storms
And other calamitous events
It seemed so silly to me
That something so obvious
Could go by unnoticed
But as I've gotten older
The nights have gotten subtler
The nightmares have
Become vivid reflections
A gruesome parody of life
I startle awake most nights and
I don't sleep so well anymore
-
I wonder when I stopped being
A deep sleeper
And began fearing
Waking up a second too late

Am I a good guy?
Am I the good guy?
Am I a main character not quite out of the first chapter?
These struggles I go through
Do people root for me?
Will I do something with this life of mine?

If a person was to suddenly know everything about me
Without getting to know me
Would that be the only unbiased opinion?
And what would they think?
Would they back peddle in disgust?
Would they want to get to know me?

Would I give my life for another?

Will I even be remembered?

Does she know how much I love her?
I tell her
But can I even translate the immensity of it
Into words?

What will I be?
Who will I be?

What kind of movie is my life?
A romcom?
A drama?
Action/adventure?
Dramedy?
Or perhaps
Since I'm asking all these questions
With no clear answer
A mystery

Is this one the last one?
Is this the one I will spend my life with?

Who will read these thoughts?
And who will appreciate them?

I'm waiting for inspiration
And I'm left wanting
Wanting my writing to be well thought out
And pleasant to read and hear
Even if the subject itself is not
But I hate to wait
It takes too long
I want to create poetry
But my creativity can't keep up with the demand of my twitching fingers
The want, the need
To create something
But not knowing what that something is
It's infuriating to say the least
So I rush
I put out unfinished, not well thought out pieces
In order to satiate that itch
I swear I'm not a boring person
I just tend to feel the same things
Over, and over
So all my poems start to sound the same
Monotonous, restating old ideas
Because I don't think about it
Or I think too much
I try too hard
To sound different
Unique
But that's not who I am
I'm just a boy
Who happens to fall in love too easily
And has a voice
But no clear message

Little drummer boy in my class
Ratta-tat-tat
Beating on his desk
Tappity-tap-pat
Keep the beat going friend

I've never spoken with you
But your knocks tell me everything
You are so pumped, excited
Today's the day
And your poor pencil gets to be your outlet for your excitement

The teacher tells you to "knock it off"
He doesn't get the irony
Mister, don't you see that he's trying to?
Regardless, that energy has to go somewhere
So now the pencil goes to work
On your paper
I can see the hearts, and the unmistakable names

Tap-tap-tap-tap-tap-tap
Now your leg goes to work
Like a jackhammer on the floor
Little Thumper, if only she could see just how excited you are
The flowers in the bag, the sign propped up against your desk
A smile creeps across my face
As my mind drifts to my own experience

Thump-thump-thump
Now my leg goes to work
Like a contagion, the room is infected
Love is, after all, in the air

I've opened up
My heart for you
I've let my guard down
I've let the fragile remains
Of my shattered pieces
Rest in your hands
You hold me so close, so tight
I feel safe
And yet...
I don't want to sound paranoid
I'm sorry
But I'm terrified
I trust you with my life
But I trusted her too
And you hold the result
In your hands

I remember you
You were the sun who lit up my day
You were the stars that lit up my nights
You were, for all intents and purposes, my guiding light
So how come I can't see now?
It's dark where I am, cold
What happened to you?
Where did you go?

I remember you
You were the warm coat on my trek through the tundra
You were the breeze that cooled on those hot sunny days
So why can't I get comfortable, no matter what I do?
I find no solace here
Where did you go?

I remember you
You were the wind at my back
The staff in my hand
My driving force through this thing called life
But now, I don't want to move another step
The path has become twisted, gnarled
Where did you go?

I remember you
You were all I thought of
When I imagined the future
You were the wonderful today
The exciting tomorrow
But now I cannot imagine seeing you again
So I write this lover's lament
Where did you go?

I remember you
And all our wonderful memories
I remember you
And the love we shared
I remember you
I don't want you to forget
I remember you
...
Where did you go?

My body
                                        Worthless
                                                  ­            A blank canvas
                                          Too small
                                                           ­   Thin
                                           Scrawny
                                                         ­      Lanky
                                            Wasted
        ­                                                       Potential
                                         Disgusting
                                                      ­         Imperfect
                                          Unhealthy
   ­                                                            Fine
                                        Disgraceful
        ­                                                       Awkward
                                    
                                    What they see
                                                             ­  Doesn't matter
                                       Whether a 4
                                                               ­ Or a 7
                                     My 108 lbs
                                                             ­    Isn't what I am
My body
Isn't me

I am an open book
So take a look
Maybe you'll like what you see

Or, maybe you'll ignore the message
And only see the typos, the grammar infractions
The mistakes I made along the way
In my little novel of a life
Because the book isn't about the order or meaning of the words right?
It's whether or not they are done "correctly"

You could read me so easily
I don't try to conceal it
For the most part
Sometimes
Occasionally
But that doesn't matter
Read the material I've provided you with
Even if it doesn't tell the whole story

My heart is on my sleeve
Look at it, anyone could tell I've been in love
By the scars in its flesh
You can tell it's been broken
But that's alright
You can also tell that someone has mended it

I make my intentions clear
I'm not here to hurt anyone
But myself
But that isn't intentional
For the most part
Sometimes
Occasionally
But that doesn't matter
I'm here for you
Talk to me, I'll listen
I want to help

Do you think of me?
I think of you
Yes, you
You who are reading this right now
I might not have ever met you
But I can guarantee that you have crossed my mind
Mentioned in my prayers
'Cause I'm thoughtful like that

One of these days, someone is gonna read this book
And be spellbound
Glued to the pages
Can't wait to find out what happens next
Desperately wanting to be a part of the story
At least, that's what I hope
And I'll be happy to include them
You don't have to watch from behind a glass pane
It won't hurt you
For the most part
Sometimes
Occasionally
But that doesn't matter

Just, don't burn the only known copy before it's even done
I don't want to disappear in a puff of smoke
Not just yet

Read me
Tell me what you see
Because when it comes to myself
I am tragically illiterate
The illiterate author
Of a tragedy

I'm not much for conversation
But so much can be said in silence
It can convey awkwardness
Anger
Content
Concentration
Sorrow
The way your face lights up when you see someone
Or the way your smile fades as you pass each other by
Eyes can give you so much insight
Into how a person is feeling
So when people say that I don't talk much
They really just don't speak my language

I shouldn't have to fight to be loved