There are always rings left
after the cool drink sweats
leaving his mark to be seen
a blemish, a scar, an unlovely ring
that my mom would always get mad about

but being a child
my mind ran wild
and time after time I would forget
and sit
my glass on the bare wood

and time after time
I would run and hide
hearing remembering what I did

I live in fear
every time I hear
your voice growing in anger

don't yell at me.

I'm here sitting
alone,
the smell of coffee runs through
my veins,
some music i probably will forget
in a few years arguing with
the thought of you,

But I'm here,
I'm here,
writing about what's happening

pretty boring huh?

i call myself a poet
but i can't use high metaphors,

i call myself a poet
but i can't describe fully
how you make me feel

i call myself a poet

but what am i?

I'm just a kid
scared of life
finding new ways to cope
searching for someone to love,
desperate,
not holding unto my dreams
how can i choose with my mind
what's right for the heart to choose.

and you see?
don't you see?

don't worry i can't either

i can't see how great i am
i can't see how other people see me
i wish i could.

i want to believe this was a dream
or
a nightmare at that.

But at last.
I'm here wishing that in another life
i could be with you,
or
maybe in other deaths,

i crave your touch,
i crave you..
with coffee waking up my senses
like a kid in summer waking up early
to go play with his friends.

i wish things were different,
so i wouldn't have to wish.

Maybe your jokes aren't that funny..
But I laugh anyway..
So now you think you have got the way to my heart...
Maybe I modify the thoughts in my head..
When I tell you what I like..
So now you think you can certainly make me happy...
Maybe I dont miss you that much...
When I tell you my feelings resonate with that melody..
But now you think I think of you most of the time...

Desperation breeds creation
and I cannot forget
that beyond a desperate plea for elation
hides a concurrent twist

An overview of hidden views
never seen in daylight
Is impossible because they're often skewed
but beg for some kind insight

I see a scatterplot of scattered thought
and try to find the truth
But I grow weary within weathered thought
though I remain still in my youth

I do not struggle
With the concept of trouble
I often chase it

I brush away rules
Just like a hardheaded fool
It's time I face it

Vividly aware
I stop full pace and I stare
At only a thought

Thoughts that hold the world
My small mind races and swirls
Ensnared, trapped, and caught

But I think too much
Often I spit and I cuss
Knowing I fall deep

Please try to give me
The rich bittersweet release
To finally, breathe

I´ ve lost the count
of sleepless nights
when dark window
mirrors my face
I no longer recognize
without you
I am nothing