Sadness doesn’t care if you made it to the top.
It doesn’t remember the award you won last year,
or the shows that were watched by millions.
It doesn’t know about dress royalty wore,
and miles your shoes walked.
It ignores every dish that told a story,
and every bag that traveled around the world.
It laughs in the face of the memories created,
and not once thinks about tomorrow.
It pushes aside Happiness, befriends Anger,
and comes in like a storm.
But Sadness is never at fault.
Because Sadness can’t help the way she feels.
And truth be told,
No one cares about Sadness.
-MyDreamIsAStory

Scary and unknowing,
I turn off the noise.
Too much,
too little,
and the days don’t go fast enough.
If I take another breathe at least I know I’m still here.
Life is so broken now,
and the world we took for granted leaves us all connected.
Home becomes the constant,
and the things that once were so normal are temporarily gone.
We find other ways to pass the hours.
So in this scary and unknowing time,
I turn off the noise.

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.

Don’t let the moon tell you goodbye
or the sun not greet you with a hello.
Don’t let yesterday fall too soon
and tomorrow never come.
Close your weary eyes,
but only to rest for a while.
Awake in the morning light
and remember each breath.
Don’t let it fade too fast.
Life’s too precious to say no more.
And though the pain is hidden far too well,
know it’s never too deep for someone to care.
Please stay.

Heart still beating,
blood still moving,
head still hurting,
and eyes still blinking.
I’m alive.
Alive,
and still here.

Someone once thought my poetry was ****.
Scoffed at what I wrote about.
Truth be told,
it did hurt.
And I replayed their words that day letting it eat me up inside.
A part of me didn’t want to write anymore.
But how could I turn my back on something I loved more than anything?
It’s impossible for me to leave behind the very thing that makes me smile,
and in a way has saved me numerous times.
It’s my outlet when my head becomes too complicated,
and each breath feels like a chore.
I don’t write to please others.
I write what’s on my heart and what fills my brain.
If for some reason someone doesn’t like it,
than so it be.
I’m just being true to me.
And here I am,
still writing,
still breathing.

You twist my words until they break.
Stick glue on the bottom of my shoes
so I can’t move.
And cover my eyes with a heavy fog
so I can’t see the truth.
I’m putty in your hands,
too weak to stand up to your never ending schemes.
You find ways to bring me further down the confusing hole,
and before I can catch my breath,
the damage has already been done.

But despite the hold you have on me,
someone else has the stronger grasp.
With each whisper from Hell you tell,
I hear a voice that is far louder,
telling me I’m okay.
I’m not to be ashamed.
As broken as everything inside of me is,
He can put the puzzles pieces back together,
even the ones that are bent and bruised.
You can try to bring me down again,
and though you may succeed for awhile,
He’ll always find a way to get through.

The world was too harsh,
and you couldn’t stay anymore.
As hard it was for the ones you left,
it was much harder on you.
That light that tried so hard to chase away the shadows failed.
And the questions will always remain,
wondering why and figuring out how to make sense of your absence.
The answers will probably never come,
and the tears will form just when we thought it was okay.
There is nothing worse than pain that is hidden deep in the heart,
and there is nothing scarier than pain that fills your mind with thoughts of no tomorrow.
You held on for so long,
but it didn’t seem long enough.
And even after the whispers taper off,
the loss will still remain.
So will the hole that got a little bigger when you left this world.

The marks we make don’t get to come with us when we leave.
They stay with those left behind as stories we wrote,
and pages to be read.
The soundtrack we created hopefully will be played.
And the songs that walked us through,
may they be reminders of who we were.
Not forgotten or lost.
Always there in some simple way.

October
The pain is settling in
making itself a home
deep within my heart.

November
I have nothing to be thankful for
because why would I thank
everything that took you away from me?

December
The dreams come every night
like 'Jack Frost nipping at your nose'
except I'm not at all happy.

January
I feel numb to the core
the life in me ****** out.
I'm no longer me anymore
but then again maybe I never was.

I pick up the pen
and my mind runs free from life’s chaos.
I forget about the worries that haunted me so,
and a stillness envelops my presence.
If only it could stay like that forever.

Somewhere along the way
the pen fell out of my hand,
and the words got lost in my head.
Creativity still bubbled in my head,
but on paper it all fell short.
Maybe with new adventures that have just passed,
and more adventures planned ahead,
I’ll discover my words once more.
And fill the pages of my book.
The love for writing is never truly gone.

Tired bones,
and tired eyes,
I struggle to get through each hour.
Loosing my patience and sanity.
I wonder if the battle is loosing.
Then in the back of my mind pushing its’ way past the doubt and hurting,
I hear a voice softy whisper,
“Dear child,
tomorrow is coming and you do all you can.
You take on an impossible task,
and you refuse to quit.
Though the work seems giant,
remember you can’t do it all.
There is only so much the world can put on your shoulders.
And for everything else,
that is why I am here.
When everything feels like it’s crumbling,
look up and there I’ll be there.
Yes, child.
I’m always there.”

The things that hold us down,
the things that tie us to the ground.

A past of heartaches,
a past of regrets.

All the things we wished we could have said or done.
All the people we wished we would have held on tighter to,
and the people we crave to talk to once more.

The tears that keep us up at night,
the tears that never seem to go away.
The anger that builds up right behind them,
and the sadness that overtakes us like a tidal wave.

The damage in our hearts,
scars we can't forget.

The pain we caused,
and the pain we were dealt.

The loneliness that keeps us boxed,
stuffed with things we can't make go away.

Because deep down inside buried breath the ashes,
we miss the happy times.
The things we loved,
the things we lost.

A genius of the mind,
he writes with all the passion in the world.
Stories untold,
a masterpiece in the making.
But behind the paper a darkness shows.
His mind won't rest no matter how hard he tries.
And everything around spins out of control.
One moment is all it takes until he comes crumbling to the ground.
The high is there,
and suddenly it turns to anger,
then scared the next.
He falls apart,
hoping someone will pull him together again
before it comes to the point he can never return.

She's a dreamer,
high hopes,
and the world her oyster.
But behind her mask she holds a bruise,
too painful to show.
She isn't who you think she is,
the sparkle and high society nightmare don't reveal her truth.
Inside she's lonely and scared,
not quite sure of what she wants to be.
So she opens a bottle,
and drowns her sorrows,
mumbling every lie that was told to her face.
If only she could stop.
But she can't.
She's in too deep,
the bottle stuck like glue.

Two different stories,
two different people.
Some say they're crazy.
One minute up,
the next down.
But in the midst of healing,
she finds him,
a friend in the making.
And in a way he gets her.
Those lonely thoughts in her mind,
he knows all too well.
And even when he breaks down,
spirals out of control,
she's there without judgment.
He doesn't have to pretend,
and neither does she.
Though they are definitely not lovers,
they share so much,
and of course they have other friends who care.
But it's the silent understanding between them
that make this friendship extra special.

Wings a tangled mess,
and halo crooked,
this angel is far from perfect.
With harp strings broken,
and clouds full of rain,
magic is powerless in this messed up madness.
Nothing will fix this once upon a time fairytale.

If you think about tomorrow, you’re halfway there. Hold on.

Two bottles,
one for you and one for me.
The pain seems to magically end,
but one is only a disguise,
and the other leaves me dry.

Two bottles,
One become the problem,
and the other seemingly fixes the underlying cause.
But in no way do either cure the things we have.

Two bottles,
and it's hard to stay away.
We don't want to be this way,
but it's who we've become,
and who we have to deal with.
Like some roll of the dice we were dealt with these odds.

Why us?
I don't know.

But maybe we can fight this.
You can throw away your bottle,
and I'll keep taking mine.
Maybe together,
we'll finally win.

These emotions I hide,
pretending to be strong,
when secretly I want to fall apart.
Is it bad I don’t want to be me?
When everything I do is wrong
and I can’t seem to get it right.
I hate myself for it
and a part of me wishes I could cry.
A part of me wishes I could do something else and go somwhere far away.  
Maybe a place I was more appreciated,
and where I didnt fell like a number.

His mind’s a mess,
a constant battle between angels and demons.
Nothing ever goes right.
So he comes apart at every seam.
What was once on the outside no longer there.
All fallen into the darkness.

Shut out everything including the light.
Forget the memories we tried so hard to make.
Life was so much more easier yesterday
when worries were never too big to handle.

Twist the words that fall from your mouth.
Heaven knows you didn’t mean them.  
It’s far less painful to hide the breakdown.
Because falling apart would mean having to face the truth.

And the truth is what scares me the most.

I don't want to be this way,
but it's who I am.
Sticks and stones,
and all that other **** knocked me down.
Turned me into a puzzle with a million pieces
scattered on the ground.
Confetti that was stepped on
when the party was over.
And that song on the radio
**** long forgotten by now.

I don't want to feel this crap,
but I can't stop it.
I'm on overdrive,
hitting 90 miles down a never ending backroad.
And with it all,
these tears fall,
and tired eyes can't hold them anymore.

I don't want to be me.
But I guess I'll have to settle,
because me is all I have.

Feeling all kinds of insecurities
that no one seems to get.
And tired of all the questions
about where my life is currently at
and currently not heading.
My life shouldn’t be a question for people.  
It’s not their’s to understand.
I live it at my own pace,
and do what makes me happy.
I don’t have to have it all perfectly laid out
or go by the book.
It doesn’t have to be all pretty.
Because what I learned years ago is something so much more important.
It isn’t about how perfect you live your life.
It’s not about how smoothly everything goes
or how many successes you can add up.
It’s waking up each day seeing the sun shine,
and knowing you get live.
That you chose to live.
That you’ve survived,
and with each breath and every heartbeat,
you are still here.

Awkward at best,
but you didn’t seem to care.
I could fall and stumble,
and you’d be right there.
No questions asked.
Anytime light or dark.
And each time we hugged a warmth filled me that even my IQ couldn’t explain.
When I was faced with the dark,
you were the first to come running.
And when you were down,
I never hesitated.
Like clockwork we were two in the same.
But you found another,
and the stars never quite aligned with the stars in our eyes.  
We weren’t meant to be.
Sad,
but true.
And though we can’t be one,
we’ll always be two.
There when the going gets tough,
and forever as close as the universe will allow.
You have my back,
and I’ve got yours.

Wake up, wake up.
Open your eyes and see today.
Roll over in your bed
and see the sun rise
or the stars still sprinkling across the sky. Yesterday you lived,
but what’s even better
is you’re living today.
And those eyes you opened,
get to do it all over again.

I stood there doing my best,
trying to please everyone no matter how tired I felt.
I was a hamster spinning on a wheel that didn’t seem to ever stop.
I picked up pieces to put back together,
but they never seemed to fit.
I was to blame and shame took its’ hold on me.
Maybe I wasn’t good enough.
Maybe I deserved the criticism that tore apart my soul.
For blood and tears didn’t add up,
and written reports only emptied me of what little hope I had left.
I was lost to the darkness and the sunlight could never find me.
One more minute there and I would have crumpled,
unable to return from the Hell I was in.
So I ran.
Left behind the nagging guilt and worthlessness that had engulfed me.  
I no longer wanted this control over me
and the monkey I pushed off my back.
You could tear me down,
break me even,
but you will never make me stay.
And one day I will fully heal from the messed up emotions you made me feel.

I couldn't bare to show you the me that I hated.
The person who I tried so hard to hide in the months I lost myself,
But I was trapped,
haunted everyday by the darkest of nightmares I locked away.

And in a burst of light,
you came with the key in hand,
taking my memories,
and opening my heart.
You didn't shred them
or try to make me forget.
You handled them with care,
and stood by and watched as I fell apart,
ready to pick me up at a moment's notice.
I wasn't okay and you knew that,
not caring one bit,
still looking at me with those same warm eyes.

And after all this time,
I finally realized I didn't have to hold the lock anymore.
As long as I had you,
I could show every scar,
every nightmare,
and every mess I made.
But I could also show the me that now wanted to heal,
that now wanted to be better.

I wrote what was in my heart on paper
and bled myself dry with the ink from my pen.
I couldn’t bare are this any longer.
My story had to be told.

And if no one listened,
I would still pour out every word.
All my colors would not change.
Cause I was me,
even when others could not see.

So the words they whisper cut like a knife,
slicing though my pages.
Try as they might,
they couldn't tear me apart.
Because even with scars,
I will tell my story.

And if no one listened,
I would still pour out every word.
All my colors would not change.
Cause I was me,
even when others could not see.

All my colors would not change.
Cause I was me,
even when others could not see.

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.

Are you reading this?
Ten out of ten you’re scrolling right on past.
My words mean nothing in the shuffle of the
others who are bolder.
But even if I yelled it out,
no one would bother to hear me.
The lines I write are everything to me.
And each one expresses what I cannot say in person.
If only someone else would care for them just as much.

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 ****.

If I spit words,
let them be of your love and ever lasting faithfulness.

You say a word
and it falls to dust.
Might as well not speak anymore.
Because silence is a much better friend,
and loneliness keeps more company then anyone else ever did.

Turning the page on a chapter that was hell.
Hoping by some miracle the story will change plots.
And if not,
I’ll just burn the whole **** thing.
Start all over and hope for the best.

On these roads I walk,
unpaved and uneven,
I stumble on the pebbles at my feet.
Each one reminding me of my failures,
everything I’ve done wrong.
But You are the cane that holds me upright,
guiding me along the bumpy path.
You refuse to let my hand slip from the grip I struggle to maintain,
and help my legs reach where I’m supposed to be when they start feel heavier than stone,
I’m not a mistake when You are around,
and though I fall time and time again,
You let me lean on you,
and pull me back up again.
I can make it on this old and beat up road,
even if I’m bruised and worn.
Because You never abandon me.
Oh God, You never leave me stranded.
And Your love is overwhelming.

You can erase me from your memories.
Not pick up the phone and dial those numbers.
Talk and talk and say all the right words to the people who don’t really know.
Those words never reach here.
Do you get how I ask myself if I’m the one all wrong?
If I’m apart of problem.
It leaves me hating myself sometimes.
You can’t hear the cries from where you are.
And you’ll never know the nightmares living in my head trying to chase me down.
I’m hurting deep inside.
And all you do is stay away,
dragging the pain a little further each day.