Who would've thought that
You are still held responsible
For the way you behave
In times of great sorrow

Who would have thought that
The death of a great man
Would also bring about
The death of two great friendships

Boy did I **** up....




                                                      ­                         Oh man I ****** up


                Regret is a living breathing thing
                
No one told me I was doing wrong
Not even when I got so bad they all left

                                         And now that they are gone, now that they have left me here,
                           Now I just think of how much a summer of grief can lead to a lifetime of regret

A friend asked me how I always managed to stay so happy
                    And my immediate thought was 'they think I'm happy?'

So I start to think how I can be so depressed
               Yet appear so happy
While pondering this misconception
           My thoughts stumble and stutter to a stop
                                         I seem to have a road block in my mind
                                urging me to turn around and never look back
                      So obviously I surge forward and find
            A wall that I have built in my head that is clearly labeled
"THINGS TO PRETEND AREN'T HAPPENING: BEWARE"
       This strikes my interest even more.

So I step forward....

As soon as I near the wall it starts to rumble and shake
I reach forward and lay a hand on the wall
                           The stones
                                   start
                                               to
                              fall
                         And the sturdy wall
                         Starts
                                                   to
                           Crumble

and the memories surge forward
A tidal wave of suppressed stress, and pain

Is this what it's like to drown?

How much of my life don't I remember?
How much of those forgotten things can I actually handle?

Is this what it's like to drown?

These memories range from minor to major
And I have no time to sort through them
As they continue to assault me
I can't breathe

Is this what it's like to drown?

I hear a voice say 'hey are you okay? You don't have to answer me.'

I look at my friend who asked such a simple question
      and received such a complex response
             and manage to gasp out

'This is what it's like to drown'

This rain is cold and it just started to pour but I must brave it
I look in the back seat for some sort of protection

     I can't help but grin as I uncover a large dark blue umbrella.

I step out of the warmth of my car and start the trek across campus.

this umbrella is an old one
I remember this umbrella at the bus stop in elementary school.

                                                               ­     I stare at my feet as I walk
                                                            ­        left
                                                    ­                                                   right
                                                           ­          left
                                                                ­                                       right
                                                           ­                                        and suddenly I am back in elementary school
                                                                ­                                                                 ­    at the bus stop in the rain
                                                                ­         with an umbrella big enough to shelter me and all my friends

                                                     on days when it rained bad mom would let me use her big blue umbrella
                                                        ­                                                                 ­   it always made me think of her

                                                            ­                                         think of my mom at work safe from the rain
                                                            ­                                                    think of her coming home after school
                                                                ­                                    making her first drink and going to her room

                                                           ­     she did so much just for us to get by
                                                              ­      I always knew the little things
                                                          ­                  like giving me her umbrella
                                                        ­        were all she could manage

                                                         ­         I step in a particularly deep puddle

and now I am a college student again
thinking of my mom at home safe from the rain
while I scurry across campus in the middle of the night

back then she couldn't handle much more than an umbrella and a kiss on the head

when you're depressed everything is overwhelming you know?

Now I'm the depressed one, and nothing in the world sounds better then my mom giving me her umbrella and dropping a kiss on my head.....

When human beings were created
I wonder how emotions came into play

did our mysterious origins start
with a group of soulless people killing each other?

when did our happiness become a factor?
who was the first one to 'love'?

who in their right mind thought that relationships were a good thing?
who decided that caring for ones family was what should happen?

as the time ticks on and I learn to laugh at the cruelty of emotion
I also come to understand that

being able to love is both a
gift
    and a
curse
that we must deal with everyday

Religion
is a private experience.
I will be the first to admit
that we all do it differently,
which is why it increases
the emotions involved with
Politics
that shouldn't be this serious
I will acknowledge that
these laws affect my future
but I would rather not have
an opinion on my fate
if it meant saving this
Broken Family
from your hidden tempermant,
that I know is not this bad
you just aren't feeling well
and don't know how to cope with
the pain of your cancerous burdens

But when do we stop making excuses
for your morning ritual of coffee,
fox news, the tears of my family,
and the lost love of a generation.

I fall asleep at the zoo,
        and wake up on the other side of the glass.
All of the snake-like eyes staring at me through my translucent shield demand a show,
         and even though I've performed my entire life,
this pane of glass separating us makes it so much more real.

It's as if I can feel the weight of their penetrating gazes,
        I can see the glass start to crack under the pressure,
            I can feel myself start to forget the words
                 I misstep, and this "same old song and dance"
                        turns into "the mistake of my lifetime"

I want to do this for the rest of my life,
but how do I know that turning it into a profession
won't make it it into something I hate?

Whether it was the right decision or not,
           I have based my entire life on hope

I know that it is better to depend upon it,
           then not to have it at all.

I also know that if I learned anything from my mistakes,
            it would be that you must have hope.

The minute you forget about it,
          is the minute you condemn yourself.

You are so much more then your current situation,
          and you must always remember to carry your
                                                                                                 hope
like a beacon to safe harbors.