I always start with a bang
Watching the fireworks display

And the one person I speak to
At exactly midnight
Is the one I least wanna lose

Some mind altering substance
Is usually tradition
Along with watching the ball drop

When it finally stops
I get my chance to restart

This year starts
With a broken heart
A broken home

And a soul left
All alone

And instead of kissing
To start the year off right

I'm left wishing
And a simple "goodnight"

31 october 2014*

There will come a day
education, career, kids, love
after,
when all the feelings in the world have
allready been felt.

On that day
there will be so much, still
but all is old, recycled, outworn
Like that old sweater you used to love,
only wistfulness keeping it mourning in its drawer.
One day you will find it
recognise it, smile
only to put it back,
never wear it again.

There will come a day
laughter, tears, irresponsability,
later,
when we will live but not.
Routine kills the reckless,
only absurdity fills their lungs.

On that windy day
there will be so much, still
so please,
don't tell me about used up feelings.
Please, I beg.
Tell me I’m wrong.

Love, love is a verb.
She was a bullet
Headed straight for my heart.
She is heavy.
She made bad ****.
Tell me something. Something more.
My life hurts.

when you say that
you're not worth anything
no offense here, but
i kinda wanna punch you in the face
so hard the amount of chemicals in your brains
corrected themselves
and you could love yourself
as much as you should.
baby, i would never lie to you
please believe me when i say
that you're beautiful
that i want to be with you
that i love you.
baby, if it's not healthy to want you
then i'm in and out of the hospital
if it's not healthy to want you
i'll be homeless in the winter
because i'm addicted to the drug that is you
hell, i'd go broke
and i wouldn't give a ****.
baby, if it's not healthy to want you
then i'm lying on my death bed
holding your hand.

And I'll admit I don't really like the rain,
Despite the beauty of it that people speak about.
I don't find it all that great.
I've been lying and trying to understand it's warmth and
Embrace the cold droplets that somehow singe my frail skin,
But whenever the world cries I can't help but feel sad.

Must we all lie and claim that these tears bring joy?
Because when I see her cry I don't smile and call her amazing.
I feel myself cry a little, too
And realize that she is in fact beautiful.

With this I realize we live in a world of lies.
We lie about our feelings,
Our experiences,
Our tastes,
Our professions.
We lie about religion,
And expressions,
Knowledge,
And passions.
But sadly enough we lie to ourselves about these things and give ourselves headaches,
And look outside just to see we're not the only thing crying.

Make a difference?
Be the difference!
There's the difference
For me.