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Matthew A Cain Feb 2018
She had a porcelain complexion
But make no objection
She was perfection
She had soft doe eyes
And a smile that could light up the night
We would lie awake
Stay up late
Talking till the morning started peaking through my stupid shades
Her soul was truthful
It was beautiful
But somewhere along the line someone broke her so now she tries to hide
Little thin white lies
And a harsh abbrassive guise
In reality
She loves deeply,
And completely
But I never loved her because she couldn't let me
The other night I had a dream reminding me of this girl I knew once. She was special and beautiful in so many ways but she was hard to love because she didn't believe she deserved love in any meaningful way.
I don't know whatever happened to her because she long cut ties with all her old friends and I haven't heard from her since. I still think about her at times though and hope she is doing well.
Matthew A Cain Dec 2017
She fell hard for the man in the dark
Wondered if he would come visit her soon someday
She cried for a while, as she lied awake
With her heart full of scars
Wishing he would come take her away

Then a wild idea formed in her head
If he weren’t coming, then she would go to him
With a blade in her hand she had the perfect plan
She set the mood with hero in her soul and sang this little hymn

Oh come now the man of my dreams
The one I see when I sleep
Hold me close and we’ll run away
Setting my old life ablaze

Oh come now speak softly to me
My heart is heavy and my soul is weary
This life has gotten my best
And it has given me its worst

Oh Come now and hold me still
In your arms I’ll take my rest
I swear I’ll never have my fill
With you there is no contest

The room blurred and the blood ran red
As she fell to the floor
She saw the shadow man come to the door
As she took her last breathe
This Poem was for a friend that went through some very difficult times in her younger years and thankfully her suicide attempt was not successful. She is a happy person now and we have had many talks on this subject as I too have gone through deep depression and considered this tragic ending a few times but never went through with it
Matthew A Cain Nov 2017
If love is a drug than I don't want it.
cause I got a gypsy soul for leaving
and a mothers heart for scars in need of healing

If love is a drug than I don't want it.
Because I got no self control,
An addict mind and habits ages old
Love has always been an intoxicating idea. I recognize that I find corrosive people to satisfy my temporary state of mind. When midnight comes calling and I'm all alone I seek out relationships to keep me high. I seek love but find a cheep substitute drug in the form of infatuation and lust. Most times I can't tell when it's the substitute and when it's the real thing so I simply try and never take the plunge in the first place never take the first hit. I keep everyone at arms distance because I'll never be addicted to the fake thing if I never take a hit. consequently I'll never get that real high and so I die with my extroverted mind driving me insane as I look for connection but can't let anyone in.
Matthew A Cain Aug 2017
The morning after is always quiet, as she works tirelessly
Burying her thoughts and her words in her work
While he sits emotionless, purposefully oblivious
Lying to himself that the bottle isn’t a problem
His eyes have certain emptiness inside
She plays strong but could cry on the drop of a dime
I try and hide, make myself small stay outa sight
A childhood defensive technique, trying not to die
Ya fight night bell ringing
Downstairs as they screaming
Crowd of two crying
Cause these walls ain’t thick enough
The music ain’t loud enough
The cuts ain’t deep enough
To drown out the voices
Cause long after they stop
They’ll ring out
Inside my mind,
I try not to fall back in time
Hands shaking, eyes crying, lips lying, mind wishing
It would all be all right; things would work out, and in the morning I would wake from this dreadful dream of mine.
Matthew A Cain Jul 2017
What kind of man, do you think I am
What do you see when you look at me
Would you call me your own when I stand before the throne

I wanna know
I have to know

When I look in the mirror all is see is the mistakes I've made
I see sins and transgressions that lead me away
I see broken peaces held together with strings

I hold you to your promises
But I don't keep my word
I let the world seep in
And to the outside I play pretend

So I ask,
what kind of man do you think I am
So what do you see when you look at me
Most importantly,
Would you call me your own when I stand before your throne

I have to know
Give me the strength to know
Its killing me

If you see me the way I see
Then let Jesus stand before me
His blood washing me clean
God let me be a man empowered by thee
Lord break my heart for what breaks yours
Emanuel please walk with me.

Walk with me
Walk with me
Walk with me
And we will go and see
Just some thoughts I had while working today. I got home and couldn't wait to put cords to it and it turned out beautifully.
Matthew A Cain Jul 2017
They say we’re crazy
Chasing stupid millennial dreams
Too far fetched they seem and sometimes we agree
But secretly we hope and pray they become reality

Excuse the interruption but does this sound familiar for anybody else?

“Big house on its second mortgage, and a camper for when we feel like downsizing prison.
Cars each on a different loan, manicured lawn because we must show status in everything we own.
Monday, he cheated with the bottle and she cheated in her heart
Tuesday, sister came home late, crying her eyes out because the arms of her last lover were just like her fathers.
Wednesday was surprisingly peaceful, but unnerving, as sunny days were far and few between and I was thinking this was just the calm before the storm.
Thursday I saw father sitting on the floor his last straw a piece of paper "final notice" printed in red
Friday mother sat in the car for an extra twenty minutes starring blankly at the door contemplating her life
Saturday was fight night
Sunday we went to church and pretended it was all alright”

I’m sorry if my pursuit in life is simply this: Happiness.
If it looks like a retrofitted van and I live like a *** because I never want to fight about little green men
Or, if it was a tiny home that her and I could reasonably afford on land far away from the city lights and temptations that come at night
You could say It’s something about the fights we could hear through thick walls that drove us mad inside
And now we chase peace and calm, love and happiness, through any means
Because that’s something that cannot be bought despite our parents thoughts.
I started out with a completely different poem but somehow it morphed into this as I delved into my thoughts. The more I think about my generation and our obsession with tiny homes and little joys in life I believe this is what drives us to this way of life.
Matthew A Cain Jun 2017
Angel Eyes with the Devil living inside
would you leave me be because I can't sleep
I lie awake at night with you on my mind
replaying the time when you kissed me under the sheets
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