Stop trying to understand my mind as if its a math problem with a complicated, definant answer.

Its hard enough trying to make sense of it myself, I can't explain it anymore.

Let it be noted,
That the things you use to clean your messes,
Cannot be used to clean the mess in your mind.

Let it be remembered,
That poisons have never worked against poisons,
But then again, neither have the antidotes.

Let it be known,
That being numb for a while,
Doesn't make you invincible.

Let it be written in final print,
That you needn't read between the lines,
If it is repeated several times.

You try so hard,
And I wish it could be,
But my life's so off,
You wouldn't make it with me,

I'm too crazy,
And you're so perfect,
You'd probably hate me,
Me and my curses,

I'm so different,
I'm a little bit backwards,
So I'm keeping my distance,
No happily ever after-

I would say I'm only mortal
bitter winds bite
flower petals fall
I'm left with half of a silky rose
and I never know if I loved her or not

I'll only ever be mortal
my pain is not my gain
I crave
all the time
but not for time
not for forever
because the wind was once bitter
filling my soul with the litter
of human remains
the ones who stayed

I wish I wasn't mortal
fate and destiny mean nothing
I'd be born for something great
because my wounds would be soft memories
memories I needn't speak
I save that for the weak
and my weak days
...decades
if I wasn't mortal

It's tearful, this amount of joy
I am Mortal.
Time counts
choices matter
and my value rises

Faith is a fragile thing; it
wavers here and it tapers off there. Yet,
it is the most valuable object one can have.
Metaphorically, giving up your faith
is ending your own life. I can feel my
faith swelling up inside me, deep inside
until it bubbles up inside my eyes.
My faith will save me. My mind
sometimes fools me into forgetting this, but
keeping my faith means an everlasting life
with Him, everything I could ever want.
God is my everything and
everything is God.

Some people hate the smell of smoke
To me smoke meant early Thursday morning bongs rips
And the sun fighting it's way through the curtains
His 8 AM shirtless skin against mine and his face in my neck
The way our lips would play and tease each other, longing and smoke on our breath
Until we drifted back into dreams
Because we weren't about to let the morning win
To take that away from us

I'm thinking about you
I'm thinking about your smile
I'm thinking about your eyes
I'm thinking about your kisses
I'm thinking about your hugs
I'm thinking about your cuddles
I'm thinking about us laying on the rug
I'm thinking about your cockiness
I'm thinking about your hands
I'm thinking about you