If you told me what to do.
I'd do it all  and more.

It's the way I've always known.
It's the way I've always been.

From the school bells.
That used to ring.
To the parents that preached.

It seems I'm good at.
Listening with open ears.

Tell me what to wear.
Where to go,
Who to be.
What to say.

Tell me to do your bidding.
I'll bury your bodies.
Hold your secrets close.

Nobody will ever know your damage.
They'll only ever really see my own.

If you told me what to do.
I'd do it just for you.

To be praised.
To be thanked.
To be yours.
To be loved.

It's the way I've always been.
It's the only way I know.

What to do.
Who to be.
How to love.

I met my younger self for coffee.
That morning.

Only I never liked the taste then.
Like I still don't like the taste today.

I sit across from a wide eyed girl.
Dressed like she was attending a funeral.
With big dreams to become.
Everything they never thought she could be.

Her smile filled with hope.
With a single question in her mind.
"Did we make it?"
She's too excited to stay still.

I sipped the tea I ordered.
While she is served hot coco.
That reminds her of better days.

She thinks she knows everything.
So it's hard to tell her she doesn't know enough.

Her smile I know hides.
A million secrets.
She puts on a good facade.

It would **** her if I told her.
All things they did.
The men she met.  

Yet if I told her we went to a theater in london.
With friends we never thought we'd find.
She'd scream out with glee.

But it's not my place.
To mess with time and space.
So I saved the good stuff as a secret.

All I whisper.
All I can say.
"We made it out alive."

She stares out of the window in disbelief.
Wanting to have heard much better news.
I take her hands in mine.
"Your better days are still to come.
We have so many more dreams than we did before."

She smiles through the disappointment.
As her phone begins to call.
We still keep our phones on silent.
Because we never liked the noise.

My mother used to say.
You catch more flies with honey.
Than you do with vinegar.

She never taught me.
That the same principal.
Would apply to men.

Like how they craved affection.
Just as much as they craved sugar.

That their jaws would gnaw.
As they took bites out of my skin.

Causing me to bleed out.
Till I've been drained.
Of everything I ever was.
Or will be.

That this world.
Has taught me.
My pleases and thank yous.

That the sour words.
Have no place in a women's.
Vocabulary.

That sentences like *******.
I don't give a crap.
Get the hell away from me.  

Offends a man's ear.
Just as much as the word no.
No ******* way.

So the next time they order honey.
Give them vinegar instead.

How do you grieve for the living?
Knowing that they live under the same sky?
See both the sun and stars shine?
Looks at the world differently than you do.

How do you grieve for those that have lost their way?
The ones that never wanted to stay?
Those that made homes out of your souls?
Those who slipped and fell?
The ones with their wings clipped?

There's an ache in your heart that makes it hollow.
Where that person used to be.
You walk the hallways of the house,
Reliving every memory.
Every hazy daydream.
Every Late-night conversation.
Every fight and fallout.

How do you continue on?
When pieces of themselves are scattered.
On the floor like a jigsaw puzzle.
Only you can't put the pieces back together again.

Each piece is a reminder of the way you laughed.
Each piece is a day you hold on to.
Each piece was a thought they had once.
Each piece is now a little bent and broken too.

How do you undo this kind of damage?
When it was never yours to fix in the first place.
How do you grieve for the living?
As their name gets stuck in your throat.
As you think you see them in strangers on street corners.
Capture a whiff of their scent.
The colour of their hair.
An outfit they would have picked.

Everybody talks about the dead with such respect.
What about those that have slipped through the cracks?
Became somebody nobody no longer wants to know.
With nobody to be there when they cried.
What happens to these lost souls?

Misfits?
Troublemakers?
Escape Artists?
Criminals?

All are just labels.
As you try to tear them off.
Showing society who they once were,

Nobody cares.
Nobody listens.
Nobody wants to know.
Nobody but you.
Can see their potential.

How do you continue living?
When you're not grieving for the dead?
But somebody else instead?

All alone.
Breathless and confused.
Looking at a photograph.
Of a person you once knew.

~
Unusual and cloudless

This slippery world

Today is still contagious

Here is heat, here is rain

Here is love, regardless

Shadows in the scaffolding

Look like a broken alphabet

The sun in its anger

Just won't set

Life and how to do it

Perfectly absent
~

They say you can tell,
A lot about a man.

Based on the company he keeps.
If it's sour or if it's sweet.

You can tell a lot about a man.
Based on what he has in his wallet.

Maybe it's a note or two.
Something sentimental.
Or really rather special.

I've met many men you see.
Still I have not met all.

Some are kind and  clear.
Like water or fresh air.

Others are clever like a snake.
Twisting around your mind.

You can tell a lot about a man.
By the company he keeps.

By the wallet he holds.
By the light in his eyes.

Still with all of this.
You'll never truly know a man.

Until you look at the girl,
He's in love with.
Then do me a favour.

Go talk to her instead.

She'll tell you everything.
You ever needed to know.

Sometimes there isn't a reason why.
Sometimes you just have to sit in the pain.
Let it wash over you like rain.

Sometimes the villain wins.
With no justice in sight.

It's hard to watch a person that hurt you.
Get everything you want.

Sometimes people are people.
With their own flaws and faults.

Some are bad.
Some are good.
Sone stand in between.

You never know which one you'll meet.
Till they show the running colours underneath.
That you wish you would have never seen.

Some goodbyes are sweet.
Wishing you well.
Others are bitter.

Leaving scars in your memory.
Sometimes just sometimes.
People are people.
They can't help who they are.

Sometimes you can try to change.
To rearrange them.

Sometimes you just can't.