a heap of bile gathers in my throat
as i watch my world go up in smoke
and fail to understand the purpose of regret that's spoke

in my mind i painted the vision
and the brush perfects the image at every stroke
yet reality reminds me the paint must dry
before it can offer any hope

there it is; excuses, here they come
that's me.. always trying to alter the picture when it's done
because the sight isn't what i hoped to see
and here i stand; starting from square one

fear sets in and i feel i just may choke
so i try to erase what it has become

but it's too late; and i can't even cry
this has never happened to me
i'm lost and i'm free
and a part of me has died

tell me, what is it really like?
to see your world go up in smoke?
to create a picture unlike one you've ever seen, to feel that scream in your throat?
to paint a picture you just cannot change no matter how many times it's been erased?
to not give up, not give in but just let life take it's place?

i touch the canvas;
it's rough at the edges,
but it's smooth inside

which tells me i can still attempt a change of heart
even after the paint has dried.

Are they the crash of lightening on a dry desert plain?
Are they the sound of thunder in the night rumbling for miles and miles and miles?
Or are they the soft center of a fresh apple pie on a fall day?
I tell you dreams are good
and they are bad
But dreams are the best and worst
of reality
which is why they take no shape nor form and lose all sense of normality
Dreams have no jurisdiction
and that's beauty in their existence

So what are dreams?
What are they you say?
I say the pink sky of dusk on a hot summer day after a wrath of cooling rain
and in purest form may they take photographs of the most intimate part of your brain
and as complicated as they may seem
they are nothing but a dream
Beyond what they become is entirely up to you..
for dreams don't appear from nothing and it is the responsibility of your own soul
to make them true

Why not the ******* who just robbed the old man at the corner store
Why not the lady who crack induced her own abortion because she didn't want a baby no more
Why not the gang banger who killed a man just for his name
Why not the dishonest greedy businessman who's always begging for change
Why not the creep at church that gets away with touching little kids
Why not the guilty pastor that knew about it yet acted like he never did
Why not the ungrateful mother that enjoys bullying her seed
Why not the evil grandkids at gravesites holding their hands out in open greed
Why do people like this don't feel as much hurt and suffering
Why does it seem my life is just a living offering?

not good enough to bear your ring
not well enough to birth your child
not good enough seasoning
to taste i see
sweet baby stay awhile

you see that sun is rising again
and setting on the mountain tops
it rained last night and the dew drops
are stuck like glue on the windowsill
where your pie is warm and waiting still
but the crust is too soft to make you smile

so i throw my apron back on to sift my fingers in old flour trying to make anew
what's left from the recipe before
an uneaten slice or two
satisfied my buds to center core
but you always hold up your hand;
no more

i stare out the window at all these pies lined up one after the other and wonder what kind of baker do i need to be
to make you eat all the efforts that reach for your belly
though they never reach for me

it's a love i'll never get but i won't fret
sweet baby stay away ahile
i'm not ready for you to go just yet
not good enough for your garden
not good enough for your life
but i must be good enough for something

we watched it rain another night.

You are my life
and I cannot live without you
there is just something I cannot explain
there is just something about you
Whatever you do in this life
whatever it is you do
please
for the love of God don't you ever leave
Don't you ever leave this world
and leave me behind
without you
I cannot be strong
I will not survive
and if you ever leave me
I will most likely die
Everything I spent years building inside
will come crumbling down
in the blink of an eye

So please
I beg
and I plead
on my knees
God don't You ever take him from me
I don't want to feel the pain
I don't want to feel the hurt
If at anything
anything at all
Please just take me first
because each day won't be better
and it will only get worse
and my mother will lose a daughter
because I will be different from the pain
and I just may lose my brain
and my soul will suffer slaughter

I love you
you are my life
There is just something I cannot explain
there is just something about you
So whatever it is you do in this life
baby whatever it is you do
For the love of God please
don't you ever leave
don't you ever leave this world
and leave me behind
without you

i wish you to be a fearless soul
no longer bound by the yield and anxiety
of the mind
as i lay my head upon your rising chest
i hear a pounding sound
the song of a true heart everlasting
leaves a softened voice within my ear
the things you say only flutter my heart
and arouses my own flesh to be as great as you
a mind as complex as a maze is a gift to treasure
observant eyes and ears that present to you the madness of the world
all the while love pumps through your veins to allow the shedding reign of emotions to fall upon your cheek as a river

please do not be subtle in your dreaming
but be the man God intended you to be
and if you cannot do it for you or Him
then i beg of you

do it for me.

I got curious about your past so I sat down for two hours and read every single thing you had ever written
I also discovered every single thing she had written as well
AND!
I managed to see what you had written each other
I sat back and drank my coffee and laughed a spell
Oh you had me at hello
You charming ******* you
and to think I have shared and shared
and to think I opened up my soul
I let you in
For the record, her poetry ***** ***** in comparison to mine, and to anything I ever written for you bled onto the screen like a wounded heart
My blood wasn't clear it was thick and sincere and full of harmonic truth!
Because this isn't just infatuation
this isn't just a **** text message
oh light up my screen every day type of conversation
It was written
It was predicted
and here I am ******* for making such a careless and irrational decision
The nerve! Ugh!
To think I seriously believed
that I was the first
and the first of many was me
but from the looks of her story
it seems the first it was she

You answered my question and I read
right
between
the lines
I'm here for your amusement
and the passing of time

You are so good!
I wonder how many other women you have swooned
How many of us were lured in by your excellent ******* poetry
to have our sorry ***** served on a spoon

You know what? I'll give you the benefit of the doubt
Ill throw my hands in the air and throw in the towl
To think I shed a tear because I really wanted and needed you around somehow

Go ahead and take your bow

The show is over now

I write you sweet *** love poems like you're the greatest thing that has ever occurred in my life
Then you **** me off and make me think twice
You're far more selfish than you think and I'm sick and tired of you always turning the blame on me
I've purposely done things to you that you've done to me just to see your reaction
And of course you never surprise me with your words and actions always looking for your own satisfaction
How am I supposed to be cruising on a one way street? In one direction by myself on my feet?
And yet you have the nerve to ask me, "what does this mean?"
Take care of home, you tell me, take care of home
We have no house we have nothing but the rotten chains holding us together seemingly forever so what fool says take care of home?
Leave me alone, I say, leave me alone
But you won't

And the endless cycle of love and hate begins
Don't be fooled; nobody ever wins
We ride the roller coaster over and over again until our hearts break so bad they're impossible to mend
And then I'm looking like a ******* because I can't figure out if I'm your woman or your crutch now tell me what is that about?

I could go on and on and you'll read this and tell me I'm wrong like you always do
Like you always say I turn things around to put pity on you
Like you always say if you're tired then leave
If you were the man you say you we're then you'd set me free, but no, of course not
It's always on me

sometimes
when I think about you not being here
(because you aren't)
I stop breathing

it just seems to bring us closer
and I've grown tired of missing you