The sun's breaking the horizon,
bringing each day anew
though it's always been there
we are just moving through
to meet this sun with glittering eyes
staring at its birth
mesmerizing
tantalizing
wanting more more and more
knowing this has happened
it shall come again
I am here to meet you
day after day
to learn your every crevice
your every crater and bridge
the sun is breaking the horizon
it shall be new today

There's a hole in my pocket
And the memory of who I wanted to be fell through and into the cracks in-between the floorboards
I can't seem to retrieve the concept of who I once was,

It's getting colder outside, and my brick walls have been crumbling as of late
And the inside of this house isn't exactly beautifully picturesque

The soul I've stolen for show and tell isn't my own and he's much nicer
than the thief underneath

So please, do me a favor,

And leave

I remember the innocence of my childhood
happiness.

It was before bracelets were used
for more than just fashion…
before they were used to hide jagged cuts

The days when I only cried for my
scraped skin.

Now I cry for heartbreak and the loss
of more than just happiness.

The days where pills were only taken
to make “the hurt go away”.

Now they’re taken to make me go away.

The days where Root Beer was the only
“alcohol” I drank.

Now I drink shots of hopelessness
in small glasses of heartbreak

The days where the only kisses I asked for
were before I drifted off to sleep.

Now I beg for kisses in midnight hours
where the only love I receive is the kind
where the sheets are terrorized.

The days where candied cigarettes were my
way of being an adult.

Now cigarettes are the way of keeping
me sane.

“Look, mommy, look. I’ve grew
an inch!”

Now I’m growing without you.

Gone are the days where I felt your kisses
planted upon wet cheeks,
The days where I beg for your love, mommy.

I beg for love in the form of moaning,
bed springs creaking;
where sweat caked into my pores.

The days where my life meant something to
someone.

If I died now, who would cry for me?

The days where happiness grew on trees,
and you showed me how to grasp them with
dirt-covered palms.

Look, mommy. I’ve grew an inch.

An inch closer to the bullet
awaiting in it’s home.

-DDF

Honest John waits In his car.
peaks through his rear view mirror at the glass door. watching.
The engine is off.
cold air nips at his nose and ears.
ice caps cover grass.
the night pitch black
No moon in the sky.
few stars due to the city smog.

A Dim glow from inside the restaurant
Casts shadows in the parking lot.
She hides in them.

Rolling carts march uniform right on schedule
hauling trash to dumpsters just outside.
Honest john watches her slip on a Latex Glove.
*** a cigarette.
She doesn't want honest john to smell the cigarette on her hands.
He doesn't know.

Honest John's Phone buzzes.
He answers.
Told that "work is going late."
She "won't need a ride tonight."
"Won't be home tonight."
Honest John asks where she's going.

"oh, out with my lady friend.
Sarah, haven't seen her since high-school"

"Alright." Says Honest John.
"Have fun." He bit his tongue for the sake of not seeming Crazy again.
It wasn't very honest of him.

She climbs up into red Truck with
The man.
smoke billows out the windows as they screach off howling in the rearview mirror.

Honest John has always hated her lying.

John Loves Crying.
It's honest.
Not just his own tears.
Being the shoulder to cry on is johns momment of ecstasy.
Tears are Beautiful on everybody.
Nobody cries without a reason.

Alone John Smokes Djarum Blacks.

They're the most honest of cigarettes.
Don't paint themselves White
Try passing as innocent or pure.
Just Blatantly say
"Hey, we're way worse for you then a normal cigarette.
"This is slowly killing you"
John appreciates that
even though they're slowly killing him,
At least they are honest about it.

John speaks his mind.
Just as he beleives it.
won't risk leaving words
unsaid again.
but there is one word
he's troubled being Honest about.

Love.

Everytime he doesn't say it.
It kills him slowly.
which would be fine,
if love didn't lie.

Imagine having as many hearts as you have hands.

Imagine one Doesn't Belong to you.

Imagine how easy it is to juggle two things

Imagine how hard it is to juggle three things.

Imagine catching three hearts

Imagine dropping one

Imagine picking it back up.

Imagine juggling four hearts.

Imagine being so talented you can catch two in each hand.

One day.

Imagine the one heart
covered in bruises.

Always dropped.
Always picked back up.

Imagine it doesn't belong to you