i want to write out what this feeling is like but i’m so ******* sick of my own metaphors
i don’t want to write about how deep the ocean is or how i can feel this and that in my bones
i don’t want to be that kind of writer, i don’t want to be cliché
i just want to say that i’ve felt so detached lately, like i’m made of different parts taken from different junk yards and i have a feeling in my gut that i’m either going to be a really big nothing or a really small something
i want to be good at something
writing and being poetic is too easy
why are we so easily fascinated by someone who can compare two unlikely things and talk about how the sky bends and how your fingers tremble at the thought of being destructive
this is too easy

the waves in her mind
crash against her trust issues
as if thoughts of heartbreak
rest along the shoreline

painful memories from her past
live in her head like lyrics from love songs
she'll never forget the melodies of

skeletons in her closet, are catching dust
next to broken dreams of a perfect relationship
with someone who won't let her fall flat on her face
when she falls madly in love with them

reality keeps her up late at night
forever reminding her how fatal love can be
and what can happen if she loses herself
trying to find someone
who will make her heart beat right, again

Rains
And falling rain drops

Breeze
And  slowly moving crops

Eyes
That have so many dreams

Smile 
that never ever stops

You & I 
Whenever we meet

Hearts
Which dance & happily beat

The story of love is not that long
Its Music like a beautiful song ...

I try to shine
toe the line but
mine is a rocky road.
My modus operandi is
to get by
the best I can and
that's the best a
man can do

"I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead;
I lift my lids and all is born again.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)

The stars go waltzing out in blue and red,
And arbitrary blackness gallops in:
I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead.

I dreamed that you bewitched me into bed
And sung me moon-struck, kissed me quite insane.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)

God topples from the sky, hell's fires fade:
Exit seraphim and Satan's men:
I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead.

I fancied you'd return the way you said,
But I grow old and I forget your name.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)

I should have loved a thunderbird instead;
At least when spring comes they roar back again.
I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)"