I'm forgetting.

Forgetting on sight.

Forgetting every night.

Something that was supposed to be important...

Is it really that important?



I'm worried that I'm sick,

Mentally, physically; what's my tick?



I'm afraid of ticks.



Forgetting the dark and finding the light.

But it's getting too bright.

My sight is it's own illusionist...

Pulling tricks to show me I'm losing it.



Threatening my anxiety and removing comfort.

Thoughts running up to the clouds and they don't come back down.



But when they do, it's all at once...



In fact, it's not good and pretty;

It's quite harsh and ugly.

It is decidedly so, it no longer bugs me...

If someone were to leave me...

I would still breathe.

I'm sure you'd think I would sob,

When really I don't have the time for it at all.



When I'm done, I'm done.



Know that I won't change, and I'm not sorry for who I am or what I said.

Sometimes you need to hear words that aren't your own.



I can be aggressive.

I can be weak.

I can be wise.



These are the things in which makes me strong.

I've started to find out how to despise.



I try and try; now it all sounds like a rhyme.

My brain is fried and this is what I write.

So, if you leave now, I think I'd be alright.

Love has been wasted.
It's been thrown around with ease,
Without even saying please.

Love has been torn.
People live with restless care,
leaving others unaware.

Love is strong.
For those who share it respectively,
Carefully,
Passionately...
You find that love is everything and everywhere.

It's one of a kind.
It's living fair.

A broken heart can be mended.

Even from the one who broke it.

There is always something to remind...

But the past is the past;

We can't rewind.

Don't flee,

Or live with despair.

Just know someone still cares.

It happened to me,

And here I am.

Alive and well.

Please understand...

(I'm hurt, help)

It hasn't stopped.

But I'm learning to mend myself,

It's the place to start.

Time will only tell,

The matter of my plans.

I'm so glad,

Try to comprehend.

I've never met a man named Mr. Herbert.

I have talked to him.

Talking to Mr. Herbert was easy.

He was probably just as sweet as sherbet.

I knew him from the other side of the phone.

I can't tell you, what he does alone.

I won't judge; because I don't know.

Just be kind and use a respectful tone.

Because one day your Mr. Herbert will show.

When he does, friendship is the way to go.



Sincerely; to my Science teacher.

"Never again."

I've repeated in my head a thousand times or millions.

I don't really see the point in crying.

The truth is I can't forget.

When I have you, I don't know agony.

All I know is stress.

I have a state in which I feel alone;

When really, no one's home.

You come around me and then I'm sure.

My stress is gone and I'm completely sober.