Nuance and Shivers have been giving me free expression.
heh, wow. sometimes I manage to surprise even myself.
Now I'm not sure if you realize what I'm talking about,
but just in case, by chance, you hadn't noticed my pain,
I am not having the time of my life. Ha!
He doesn't see the humor in my punchlines,
although, it's just fine since they weren't supposed to be heard.
NOT by ANYONE but ME anyways.
Sometimes I get annoyed by having to write things with proper grammar.
Like, whats the point in wasting time pressing this key on the keyboard '
' ' ' 'this and ' ' ' ''' ' ' ''' '' '' its almost just too much for me to handle.
especially when people get annoyed by it.
It's like when apples say "help help! I"m drowning in syrup."
Did they think the birds were going to answer with a "Fried anchovy pizza though?"
And if you think this poem doesn't make sense, then I don't mind. Just don't go,
and rock the boat saying "Life wasn't meant to be made fun of"
because it was.
I am allowed to call myself freeweekmickyfree because of something a friend of mine
once said about himself at a party while drunk. even though it wasn't about me,
I think I have every right to do what fits.
would you tell someone who didn't fit into a pair of short shorts that they looked ugly in them?
NO. Of course you wouldn't, of course that's assuming your not as arrogant as a song bird in July.
And mostly at this point you couldn't be able to tell if i'm trying to be funny, by using random words, or if i'm being serious and using symbolic phrases to imply that
I might just not be okay. There's a slight chance that... well lets just say my eggs haven't flown the coop, because they don't have wings yet, but they might as well stay cracked like the cement on a sidewalk that has been corroded through the years due to excessive break dancing by some kids from the 80's who thought it was cool at the time.
So lets just sit back and relax for once to watch the magic take its seat in a chair at the movie place watching a new movie featuring myself playing the harmonica for hours and making jokes about how babies aren't babies and they are really baby skeletons or some crap like that. lets just sit back and relax for once, and watch the free... falling... piece of paper.. make the hardest landing it would ever face.

Laying still on the ground feeling the rain fall gently down on my face.
The lucid dream of the cold drop slowly rolling down my cheek.
Trying to close my eyes gets harder to each time i succeed.
My Eyes get Dryer and Dryer each time from being open too long.

I can Hear her foot steps coming closer every second and getting louder.
The fear rising as i see her blurry figure appear in my periphery.
Her foot is right next to my left arm. If i listen close i can even hear her breaths.
Time slows even more as she slowly leans down to whisper the secret to me.

"There will be a time where your potential is going to become your downfall,
But instead of losing your will to the unbearable pain and shame,
I suggest you think real hard before you decide to give up completely.
Remember that you are the only one who has any hope at all for this"

A small tear forms in the corner of my eye, and as it starts to fall down...
I no longer feel its warmth as it melds into another rain drop. It's Gone.
And before I realize it, so is the woman whom I knew nothing about.
Before long I forgot what she even looked like. Was she even real?

My eyes strain as i open them for the third time tonight. Sweating and Shivering.
I slowly raise my head but stop as the pain in my neck starts to bring me back.
What was going on? I had no idea. Where was I? On the street sidewalk?
My feet were cold and wet, and i could feel the grime of mud over my legs.

I Slowly get up, careful not to move too fast. I'm having a hard time seeing.
I'm Dizzy and the whole world seems to be laughing at me.
I realize that I'm outside of a small coffee shop that i had visited every few days.
When I look across the street there stands a woman with dark red hair.

I try calling out to get her attention, but she seems to be looking the other direction.
Slowly she turns towards where I'm sitting, and her eyes cross mine.
It's locked... I can't even move. Frozen. Her light blue eyes staring at mine.
She moves her lips and says something I can't hear. A car passes. She is gone.

Why do I need a reason to pay for your drink at a drink stand?
Yes, I understand that your name is unknown to me.
Yes I understand that I'm not going to see you in my home tomorrow night.
And yes, I understand that you're not my responsibility.

Why does my wanting of a smile during the autumn months need a catalyst that has been known to me for years before this season?
Why does the rain fall so heavily on the trees and plants that are begging for it's sustenance?

Don't feel bad or guilty that I'm not getting anything out of this transaction.
For you it means nothing, and to me, that's why it means everything.
Don't you understand that your lack of faith is what makes my kindness more worthwhile?

And before you start thinking that I'm doing it for the challenge of making Ebenezer smile near Christmas, I need to tell you that's not the reason.
It's the reward.

You keep shouting about how offended you are by my gesture, and by all means you have that right. I appreciate your standing up for what you believe and hold true. But at the end of the night, I want you to know that I understand how insignificant I (with my useless money) am.

I don't know you, and you probably wouldn't let me anyways.
So here's to being unfriends.
Now we know each other.
"Have a good night."

I found a great person.
I realized that there's not much anyone knows about him.
He's not mysterious or anything.
I think it's just that not many people care to look.

I'm not saying he's nothing to look at.
But I guess when it comes down to it,
He's just easy to read.
Easy to hear his thoughts.

I wonder if he knows that the people he cares about don't really care about him the same way?
It's not reciprocate love.
Platonic sometimes, others not.

Something tells me that he doesn't care how they feel.
He would love them anyways.
That's not the point of love.
You don't love to be loved back.

You love because . . .
Well. . .
because you love.
That's what love is.

I woke up this morning from a dream about you.
You and her had been hurt badly.
It looked like she wasn't going to make it.
This wasn't the first.

I scream in my dreams about you both.
It's not that you can't hear me,
But when I yell out you are too busy.
Too ashamed of me.

I wrote you a message asking to see you both.
I was planning on it being my last goodbye.
So I waited all day until you were free.
We met eyes, and the memories we had both tried to forget became real again.

She didn't recognize me.
It had been that long.
I can't stand being so far from her,
and knowing she forgot me hurts.

Laying on your couch,
playing with the blue rubber bands she kicked around all over the floor.
My head was resting on your knee.
I tried to tickle you but almost got a black eye trying.

It was hard. Being near you.
You chose to not be near me before,
and now that we were close. . .
Silence.

"I'm getting tired, and have to put her to bed.
I have a long day ahead of me tomorrow."
I didn't mind. I knew it was uncomfortable seeing me.
With a few hours notice, I don't blame you.

That ride back, was the end.
The last time, and we knew it.
"I don't want you to walk all the way. It's dangerous at night."
I am going to miss you. I already do.

It was my eyes. I didn't want to, but they had glazed over.
The tears tried to fall, but a good reset stopped them.
"Don't do that. Please. I know."
Sorry.

"Good Luck"
With what? My life? You really want this to end?
'I don't have a chance. . but I promise I'll try.'
"Wait."

"I don't want you to get the wrong idea"
"I don't want you to get the wrong idea"
"I don't want you to get the wrong idea"
You don't want me to get the wrong idea.

Was it a farewell?
Or was it the beginning?
Was it a mistake on your part?
How should I feel about that kiss.

The things I've done have hurt someone.
The things I've done are wrong.
There are so many thing that I did.
Not only to you.
They've gone on for too long.

I've taken the love I had,
And killed it in the worst of ways.
Now all I have left are the memories from when we went to the beach every weekend with our family.
Now I can't see them without realizing how unhappy I was.
How unhappy I am now.

I do things every day to atone for them.
My sins that I let control my life.
A homeless man begged me for money when he didn't have to.
He could have just looked at me, and I would have known by the look in his eyes that we shared the same scars.
I gave him twenty dollars in the hopes he could get to work every day.
Did I care if it was true? If he could have been telling a lie?

And when it's time to go home, and I walk slowly and say goodbye to my friends. I hear people saying the same things I have always heard.
"He's so weird"

Though he gives everything, and smiles. . .

He goes home and cries.
Alone.

Heavenly bodies over pastures in night
I see you shining
Though I do not want to see you go
Someday we won't have a choice anymore
I know somehow we'll run away but until that day I can't watch you burn the same way I did
Could I pull you closer?
Or would that spell disaster?
Either way I'll still be here.