Where ever life takes me.
Whatever we've done.
I will always wish you happiness,
health, joy, and love.

We both hurt each other
I hope we both heal.
I know that at one point
what we had was real.

Theres a place in my heart
that you'll never leave.
I'll always be here
if ever you need
a friend.

How could someone you love
become a stranger so fast.
Over broken promises,
having so much hope they would last.
How could flowers so beautiful
turn and decay
when you did your best to water them
each and every day.

How could all this
have been just a dream.
When you stay up all night
your body trying not to scream
as your heart is ripped out,
and placed in a fire
where it dies, charred and black,
a funeral pyre.
You collapse
and you wake
tears and scars you must hide
while you know
you just died a whole lot more inside.

Tell me how you want me,
I would be anyone,
anything for you.
Lie down on a bed
of roses for you.
Slowly bleeding dignity.

Yet I cant ignore
the man I should be
that I was.
That man wont
depreciate,
be decieved,
let gaurd down,
show want or need.
That stone man
so cold.
Where is he?
Im not so old,
but I should be.

These days
I'm a monster
at war with myself,
the light, the dark, or
the grey numbness
of images haunting me.
If only I could sleep
instead of filling in
the terrifying
blank spaces.
Oh how I will welcome
the black void.

You poured your words
into my whiskey glass.
Over and over
again.
I drank every drop
In good faith.
Hopelessly drunk
on a dream of love.

Now you fill my glass
and pour it down the drain
as I reach for you.

This hangover
is gonna be my worst.

I'm sorry,
I'm drunk, I know.
But how can you text me
a smile,
when you just threw
every promise
out the window.
When you let him in
and up to your room.
When you laid down
and let intimacy ensue.
If you wanted him,
just tell me
so I know where I stand,
so I don't have to be
your man.

They say
they love who I am.
They scream it
at the flesh that I'm in.
But they dont know
that who I am
is killing me.
This mental state
has consumed my name.
If I could I would,
but I don't know how,
to return to the boy
they already destroyed.
What a bind I'm in.

When I decease,
if I ascend to heaven ,
what is the point?
If I return to this plane
as human or worm
what is the point?
If I simply cease
to perceive, to exist,
and become one
with all matter.
Why does life matter?

Preach
and preach
your moral superiority.
You're the oh so natural,
pure,
perfectionist,
healthy minority.
Tips,
you can keep them.
Stop pretending
to care,
when you really just want you
to live forever.
You're scared to die.
You're scared to live.
Get off your high horse
and roll in the dirt like the rest of us.
Your belief in afterlife is
just a way for you to set you above us.
You're obsessed with immortality,
but once you accept reality,
that we're a cycle of energy,
you're closer to being free of your fear.

It's that time again,
between sunset and the dawn.
That time when I pace across
this city of goodbyes.
Songs of sadness
in my head.
Letting this weight on my shoulders
sink to the soles
of my feet
passing to earth
behind me,
so that once I return
I can pretend
till it's dusk again.

That song plays,
and I am taken to a place,
a time,
a corner
of my mind,
but so real.
Where the pain is physical.
A pain in my chest,
and a stomach ache.
I gasp for breath
while oxygen leaks
from the hole where my heart
ought to be.
Take me back to now please.

No,
I dont think we can
ever
be friends again.
The pain is too strong,
my memory too long.
When my heart went still,
you were always far gone.

Just imagine,
a world where all the hate
was replaced with love,
where absolute empathy
was inherent in all of us
where we comforted
the lost,
the broken,
the lonely,
where we realized
the universal connections.
Just imagine.

You did nothing
to deserve my obsession.
You do not deserve
this level of control
over my heart
my hopes,
my dreams,
my time.
Long ago you were injected
so deep into my bloodstream.
Everytime I think I've gotten clean,
flushed you from my system,
the toxins multiply and spread.
I wish I could extract these feelings,
with scalpels
calipers
tweezers.
Pull them from the fibers of my being,
and burn them in the fire.

The love hate relationship with food,
is so strong. It consumes your life. It is on your mind every second of the day. It becomes your only reason for it all. The only source of contentment, but also the source of your fear, your self hatred, you want it so bad but you abstain because you're scared of the guilt and the consequences you will subject yourself too. To earn your right to feel happy. You impulsively exercise to extremes. And your peers will applaud your dying body.  You have to keep the routine because without it  you are terrified of the free time without focus, because the cycle of hunger and hate will set in. Society has convinced you you're not worthy of love unless you are a *******. If my peers knew the state of my mind they'd ridicule me for not being manly. There are moments, everyday, when you spectate a battle of reason and anxiety in your head.
And all the while you're on a timer. Counting down as your heart rate slows, organs strain and cease, friends drift away from your inability to pretend you're ok, and you are left alone and family beg for your sanity, because you inconvenience them. Everyday, ending it all seems the best solution, but you know better than most, how hard you are to ****. You're also a coward. If there is no intervention you will die, slowly, but assuredly you will. You have the final say.

How could you?
Why would you?
Leave me with no au revoir,
no warning ,
no sign.
Standing here a fool
thinking you were mine.
You moved on to him,
without telling me
Goodbye.

I want to be good at this.
Good at life,
love,
fixing things;
kintsugi,
making things;
for this world,
for us.
Its a curse
to want what we dont have,
and I have
never been much good
at anything
for anything,
for anyone,
for me.
A swiss cheese self esteem,
riddled with inadequacy.

I keep dreaming,
hoping,
longing,
wishing,
that I could be trapped
in a moment,
a glance,
a blink
of time with you.
Where all is still not right with the world,
but we are fine
because it's just us.

Joy.
Fear.
Sadness.
Everything inbetween.
States of being.
Reactions to actions
Physical.
Described by synonym, and symptom.
What is all this?
Chemicals.
That's our reality really.
Perception and chemistry.
Driving existence.
Being alive.
I just wanna define
how I feel.