Do you even bother
To look for the signs?

I play my music louder
These days
I don't listen
For joy
But to drown
The world out

I'm never without long sleeves
These days
I don't wear them
For warmth
But to protect
My secrets

I feel ill more often
These days
I don't feel sick
Because of a physical illness
But a
Mental one

There are thousands of signs
That I am dying
Yet you never notice
Do you even bother to look?

Hi,
I'm Nicole
I'm still young
Only
16 going on 60

I've seen so much
I can never go back
I got more regrets piled up
Than stars in the sky

I've been told
My eyes look older than my body

And
My soul seems older than my age

That's because
I'm just
16 going on 60

She seems nice.
If you’re into one word responses,
and silent, bored stares.

She seems nice.
If you’re into lackluster smiles
and unenthusiastic vibes.

She seems nice.
If you’re into rants and complaints,
and acerbic comments.

She seems nice.
If you’re into rolled eyes,
and, “You’re not funny,” replies.

She seems nice.
If you’re into judgmental glances,
and not taking chances.

She seems nice.
If you’re into insecure hand holding,
and constant reinforcement.

She seems nice.
If you’re into that.

Had I known
That I would miss him this much
I wouldn't have left

Had I known
That it would hurt this much
I wouldn't have let him go

Had I known
That I would fall for him this much
I wouldn't have started loving him


But the truth is I have known

I have known all along
I knew so well

I knew I would miss him so much
But I needed to leave
'Coz I knew that it was wrong for me to be with him
I knew it would hurt me so much

But I needed to let him go
'Coz I knew that he was not mine to begin with

I knew that if I would fall, I'll fall so deep
But still I let myself fall
Hoping that he would catch me

But he didn't

He was already at someone else's embrace when I started falling

The fall hurt
It hurts so much
It left my heart shattered into pieces

But what hurts more is
Knowing that I am still clinging to those shattered pieces
Hoping you'd want it.

Two blind men met. Said one: "This earth
Has been a blackout from my birth.
Through darkness I have groped my way,
Forlorn, unknowing night from day.
But you - though War destroyed your sight,
Still have your memories of Light,
And to allay your present pain
Can live your golden youth again."

Then said the second: "Aye, it's true,
It must seem magical to you
To know the shape of things that are,
A women's lips, a rose, a star.
But therein lies the hell of it;
Better my eyes had never lit
to love of bluebells in a wood,
Or daffodils in dancing mood.

"You do not know what you have lost,
But I, alas! can count the cost -
Than memories that goad and gall,
Far better not to see at all.
And as for love, you know it not,
For pity is our sorry lot.
So there you see my point of view:
'Tis I, my friend, who envy you.

And which was right still puzzles me:
Perhaps one should be blind to see.