I'm only human
and I break down and cry.
I'm only human,
my flaws reach the clouds.
I'm only human
and they keep ripping me down
I'm only human
and my words have no sound.

I'm only human
getting up off the ground.
I'm only human
my hands reaching for the clouds.
I'm only human
lost but now I'm found
I'm only human
and you can hear my voice now.
I'm only human
and they can't take me down.

He wakes up everyday with a bleeding case of amnesia.
Now remembering new thoughts he didn't seem to know.
He'd loved before, and had been loved.
He still thinks about her every night now.
Maybe he's just reminiscing on past emotions,
Still so raw like a fresh cut on the skin.
When that light gets low he's invincible,
But not anymore he now lays in bed
All in his head.
Enough has now been said,
But he's not ready for the end.
He thought he was lost,broken,invisible.
But "he'll get over in do time" everyone said.
He didn't listen anymore,
He's barely left the house.
Just laying there quieter than a mouse.
All because he missed his spouse.
Head now in the clouds.
"I sometimes stare out my window as i lay, and i must say the sunset no longer looks the same my love."

lost in this jungle
of thoughts, I wander
and search for a
clear path to reality.
I am entangled by
these vines of wonder
they hold me tight
with no sign of surrender.

trapped in this prison
of a mind, cut off
from all truth.
Walls surround me
closing me in.
I am in search for an
escape route
and finally it shall end.
I have found a door
although it is locked.
And who should have
the key?
Nobody, but me.

Meditate.
Breathe in,
Breathe out,
Relax.
.....

How easy is it to meditate?
How can it be that easy to calm down all the atoms in your body?
How is it so easy for you to not want to touch every molecule that moves differently than all the others?

To calm down Avogadro's Number,
to the steadiness of your breathing, and the low bass of your heartbeat.
.....

Taking in the sound of crickets chirping,
even though you comprehend on a whole new level of understanding that you absolutely hate that sound.
.....

Instead of erasing, you cross things out because you now all too well how much of a perfectionist you are with a completely blank canvas.
.....

You don't like the way your hand shakes with anticipation when you feel that spark of inspiration to write.

You're just so eager to tell everything that doesn't make sense in an antique notebook.
Just until you get to the bottom of the page.

Hesitant to turn the page because you don't quite know if you want to keep writing your nonsense pieces of art.

You don't quite know if your inspirations of originality disappeared for vacation,
Or if it's attempting to find a new ****** expression to wow it's crowd.

But you're only trying to fill in spaces,
Not with just words that oddly mean something to you,
But to get your point across.

If you are going to write a poem about me
Write it for your own therapy
Write about my flaws and insecurity
Write about my lack of love
and addiction to fantasy
While suppressing my reality
Write about how I’ve been lost romantically
Like seriously hopelessly I am romantic
Especially when these emotions keep abusing me
Write about how I have been chasing who I am supposed to be
But running into who the world has chosen me to be, stuck in a box sealed with no identity
Write about the freedom which I have been chasing
but never having the ability to grasp
as it has simply eluded me