I used to line my eyes,
Stained my lips red,
Picked a flirty dress,
And his day made;

I used to kiss goodbye,
Wake him with a smile,
Once I even made him cry,
But it was all worthwhile;

I used to write him love,
Long calls between hours,
For him mountains I'll move,
Just so the moment's ours;

I used to be a fool for him,
Put him first above others,
But once he cheated on a whim,
It was over in a matter of hours.

@byizn

Julia, if I chance to die
Ere I print my poetry,
I most humbly thee desire
To commit it to the fire:
Better ’twere my book were dead
Than to live not perfected.

I carry a notepad:  
                                    Not to
                                    Bullet point
                                    Out
                                                            My existence.

But to document;     Resilience.

We cannot take
a good, hard look
at ourselves
without help;
our own perception
a fun-house mirror,
twisting our foibles
into grotesques.
We become too big,
thinking we loom large
in the lives of others
who could not care less,
or we shrink into nothing,
disappearing from those
who miss us dearly.
Judge, jury and executioner,
we condemn ourselves
as not worthy of the air we breathe.
We cannot take
a good, hard look
at ourselves.
The look is rarely good,
and often far,
far too hard.

I have a dream
from which I refuse to wake

holding on to it so tight
that my reality is slowly fading
what drives me now
is what I see behind closed eyes

Titles do not impress me
what you do for a living
your bank balance or your car
the number of likes
or your amount of followers
these are lies that you regurgitate
to yourself that you've made it
self-approval for mediocrity

my question to you?
what does your heart ache for?

the more you focus on your dreams
the more the nine-to-five
only living for the weekend
paying bills
occasional holiday *******
becomes a sad existence on repeat

is this it?
each time i ask myself this crucial question
the lyrics from a song
the artist and title unknown to me
keeps ringing in my head
"there's gotta be more to life
than chasing this temporary high"

sadly I judge others
that doesn't see the world like I do
that fills their dreams with excuses
but I cannot be angry with them
since my life as it is now
is not what I wish it to be

as the bible say
"let he who is without sin
cast the first stone"

I have my head in the clouds
and my feet cemented to the ground
every part of my being
wants to throw caution to the wind
but whispers of doubt
painstakingly reminds me
I have studied so long
worked so hard
for this career
that is slowly
******* the life out of me

like a dying patient
hooked up on ventilation machines
who's heart is slowly giving up
each time I silently scream
do not resuscitate
i sadly ignore my own plea
and the shock of my responsibilities
brings me back... to this reality

and yet
I still have a dream
from which I refuse to wake

Beneath the heavens
Where stars once swirled
Do all now sleep
In death unfurled

Love lies on a razor
shoots through the clouds
as a lazor.
Please don't let me down, I look up.
Blink at the raining blossoms.

I convalesce in my self-made imaginary infirmary,
a red sphere floating firm above
a Japanese blotched black ink dove.
Blink up at the raining roses
Squint up at the blinking blossoms.

Love built the cross,
it also built the atom bomb.

Roses rain down in flurries.
Blossoms blink down in a hurry.

It would be sin for us to scurry,
even as the love spoken previous
beams down from heaven, is impossible
for us to bury.
If this is my truth, let it be conjoined, to become our truth.
And,
with outstretched skinny fists protruding out from the clouds above.
I watch as the Rose petals float fluttering down in a
flurry.
I blink up at the rolling, bowling, balling, beautiful blossoms....falling.

As the the is dawning.
As the sun is dawning