When no one gives a ****,
and a show seems more important.
When your breath is hard to swallow,
and you’re left alone chasing it.
Rest just isn’t in the cards.
You’re defeated.
No one wants to help.
So I guess I’ll just sit here drowning
until there’s nothing left of me.

These words are here because no one listens.
When I speak out loud the words in my heart,
they fall on deaf ears.
Some may wonder why I’m quiet most of the time,
but truth is
I find it easier when I don’t say a thing.
It hurts less than realizing no one was ever really paying attention.

Please don’t let me forget you on December 25th.
When the presents are all open,
and the magic starts to fade.
When the coffee turns cold,
and the Christmas music unplugs for another year.
Don’t let me be reminded you’re not here.
Because I still miss you,
even when it’s not December 25th

On wobbly feet
and shaky breath,
these words are so hard to find.
No one knows what’s going on in that space up there.
You fall once,
maybe twice,
and all they do is watch as you get back up again.  
No lending hand.
Just eyes turning away.
You’re struggling.
And for once you wish someone would finally give a ****.

And so he falls apart.
Cracks at the seams as he tries so desperately to crawl his way out.
There’s no turning back.
He can’t erase what’s already been done.
And the memories chew at every thought.
It’s all he can think about.
Mistakes, betrayal, failures, and all that’s gone wrong.
If by some miracle he takes a step forward,
he somehow always goes two steps back.  
He want to change.
The numb feeling in his soul he can’t take anymore.
And alone he can’t do this.
His heart constantly begging for help.
Perhaps help is out there.
If only he could find her.

The time I spent with you I never regret.
I learned so much about myself in your presence,
and more than I could have imagined,
I fell in love with someone I wanted to spend forever with.
Ironically though forever now seems impossible.
Every day is a waiting game,
and I do not know if this second will be the last.
So I turn away.
Leave behind what made me so happy.
And all the memories I’ll treasure
will only remain as that.
I do not want you to see me the way I will become.
Goodbyes laced with anger will hurt far less than a goodbye at the edge.
And I’m sorry it’s come to this.
I’d turn my days around if I could,
and all the lies would never have to be.
But I can’t hold onto hope when hope flickers so small.

With a fire in my heart,
I write love stories that aren't fairytales.
Though beautiful,
fairytales aren't all that magical,
and life just doesn't work that way.

No love story is a happy ever after,
and no love story can ever be real.
Life is full of heartaches, tragedies, and broken promises.
Even if love sticks around,
it never runs that smoothly.

Love is not a highway,
but a cobbled road,
sometimes lonely,
or a tidal wave during a storm,
fighting to pull you under.

Though love is ugly,
it too is beautiful.
Love can endure the worst.
Illness, temptation, anger, and a sadness no one wants to bare.
It's stronger than anything,
and more solid than most.
It casts out fear,
and defeats hate.
It's what I write about.
The good and the bad.