You are teaching me
Like you have every day
Of my life
Only now you are teaching me to live without
you
when I was young it was all lessons
in dependence
I guess its funny how things worked out
just right
for you
you don't need me
and now as
the initial prickles
followed by spikes
followed by twining branches
and finally by stone
cover and protect
me from you
I find you.
slowly
gradually
leisurely
leaving
my heart
my mind
alone  
losing power over me

IT'S NOT MY FAULT
i don't have any regrets

it's not my fault and i don't have any regrets

Because you are awful
you act like a terrible person
and you've been acting so long that maybe that's what you've become
I wish I could say to you what I've been thinking quietly in my head for years.
That if you really wanted to be connected to me you would have
Made room in your life for some other than yourself
You would have bought an apartment that could fit more than one bed you would have cleaned up your life and sacrificed a bit of your happiness for mine
But you didn't you stopped listening
To the point were talking isn't even worth it
You stopped wanting to know me and tried to project what you thought should be real
to the point that in your eyes i am two dimentional
You have broken me so many times
to the point were I'm surprised there is any of my heart left to love you
You have never been there
Never cared for me while I was sick
Never Taught me the lessons you should have
Never cared for me in the way you should have
But beyond this you blame me for all that happened and you tell
me that I will regret it
You threaten, belittle, and guilt me until I'm shaking
and even the words and tears are try to escape
I wonder what you think after these talks of ours
Do you think "Ah well done, you've successfully convinced her of your kindness and love, charitably and insurmountable generosity."
I wonder how far below football and laundry I am on your list of things that matter
It would make no difference how much I tried because even then you would go back to your despicable, insignificant, and hurtful ways just the same as it's ever been
How many times are you going to blame her you our problems
While you put in a half effort she gave everything she could give and more
She is by no means perfect but she never has put me down or let me down like you have and
You will never be one thousandth of the person she is
You horrify me
I am grateful that I'm an only child and that you have no friends because I would not wish your treatment on anyone
So as I sit here trying not to cry because of how much I would love to be able to hate you I think what I've been thinking for years when I'm around you
*******
IT'S NOT MY FAULT
I HAVE NO REGRET
IT'S NOT MY FAULT I HAVE NO REGRET.

We learn from the time that we are fresh and impressionable like wet clay, that every morning when we wake up the first thing we do before we thank god we woke up at all, or before we groan and turn off the alarm, we don our safety goggles that shield our eyes from all the pain and suffering in front of us allows us to cope, blinds us to the truth and reality of the depravity that encases us, in addition these handy dandy safety goggles keep us complacent and resistant to change and improvement. As we go through life the lenses change, affected by the influences we fall under, sometimes a moment of understanding hits and we see it all...Pain, all consuming soul eating grief, mourning all that has been lost or has disappeared...But at that moment I think it is the only time the true beauty of the world can be appreciated, because without the pain the beauty fades to the background unnoticed unappreciated...So now all there is to do is to wake up every morning and see everything all at once and fight against the ingrained blindness and the delusional desire for "pure and simple happiness hold the reality please "

I want to get lost and never come back. I want to not give a ****. and be high as a kite and fly above everything so far away that all that can be seen are crop circles and property lines breaking the world into a million puzzle pieces that will never quite fit together just right again. But that's not how it is I'm down on earth shacked by the knowledge that I must do something. Knowledge. the difference between a carefree bird flying unaffected by the world below and a dog with the choice of wondering the hopeless streets unsure and alone, or being chained in security day in day out

pick your poison.

Once upon a time…by chance a common girl met a common boy
after one night she told him that she knew
knew what would happen:
In a few weeks they'd be in love hopelessly and then as they grew together so would their love then they would get married

but thats not how this story ends

instead of growing together they grow apart
they break up but still care for each other
he tries to **** himself
then buries himself in drugs

she feels like the life is ****** out of her
then buries herself in solitude
ignoring and spurning all attempts to help

months pass

she finds someone to desperate or too stupid to see she's still in love
with someone else

Then once again they find themselves falling back in love but this time
this time…
everything is different

after burring themselves
they have changed
have built walls to cower behind

Neither of them see it
He was the fuse lying in wait
to be touched by her fire
the only possible result
was for everything
to explode
leaving nothing
but ruins of memories, and confidences
shared at the cost
of two lives once intertwined

I don't. Really. you broke my heart. but not only that you broke it in a way that will never heal. Not only that…the fact remains that I let you do it. twice. I forgave and forgot and let myself pretend. Green grass. Long days in sun. Belief and trust, in our power to overcome, in you to be different. But in the end all is done. note to self: he is the way he is and you are you that won't change. not if he changes his friend group. not if he quits smoking. not if he flies from the cage that is his baggage. Never. So after all I Don't Give A ****. If your life's equation adds up to getting high and being too cool to care. great. But my life equation is filled with real love, happiness, and family. I'm past you now. You are the shiny red tricycle that I once depended on but have out grown now. Now you'll be in the backyard, rusting dreaming of the good old days.

Name it.
It's on the tip of your tongue.
don't worry I won't tell. I'll keep your secret.
I'll help you solve the riddle. well, the old ones are white. the young ones are a raw pink. and the babies are blood red. all in different directions. road maps. showing roads, streets, alleys, and avenues of pain. hidden well and undiscovered. well almost. but it's ok everything can be blamed on the cat or maybe just extreme klutziness. this is the first and last time.......that someone will find out. Locked away with a plain key. one that will never be beautiful or extraordinary never hung on a delicate chain for everyone to see. keep yourself close and your pain closer

all jingling together. one for the house. one for the car. one for the truth. one for the secret never told. you keep them close to your heart. these keys. like the skins of an onion.one tearful layer after another must be peeled to find the center. like tiny bells they are constant reminders of commitments and promises. So which one is the key. which one do you what? The key to happiness? Or the key success? pick your key. choose wisely.

Believing what they told her. Fat. Stupid. Slow. Being what they expected her to be. Just to escape the torment. Resorting to the sidekick position. The helpless follower. Never equal. Always to slow to be worth it. The fat kid in gym. The last one to finish the math problem. Blamed on dyslexia on big bones. Then it happened like a caterpillar her shape morphed became something that might be desireable. But by then her wings were riddled with the holes from past abuse. There was no confidence only anger and defensiveness on her horizon. In an attempt to salvage what was left of her she flew away to a place she thought was beautiful. A place she could start new, fresh. A place where she could hide the holes. But in the end winter came freezing her keeping her from moving while she was attacked over and over by new beasts who tore the holes open and gradually made them into bottomless pools of sorrow... When summer came she rested and patched over the holes to try again somewhere new... How does the story end? Thats up to you.

Somewhere far far away
Over the rainbow
Its 5 o'clock
A family is waking up hungry, to the sound
Of gunshots
A young mother cradles a baby
She doesnt expect to live
Like so many others she waits
For an end
Any end

Across the world
The illusion is correct
The grass is greener
Life easier
Its five o'clock
The mother is cooking
While her children set the table
In their perfect home surrounded
By a picket fence
In their gated community
Where the only screams are
Those of children playing

Would that change anything?

Would you change your mind?

If I picked the right song

Sang it.

You might think you want to hear what I have to say.

You are wrong

If by chance you convinced me to

My song would slowly break you down

Down to the basics carbon, oxygen, nitrogen.

Maybe you could be recycled

All of your good qualities used for good

And your bad qualities?

I would capture them in my song. absorb them. Candy coat them for someone else's benefit.

thats the thing about them they are so small hardly anything to complain about but at the same time so painful. bright vibrant blood holding the secrets of our beings spills carelessly no one can see it there is no scar left behind to prove anything only the dread remains fear every time you turn a page insignificant yet we still grant it a band aid we recognize its legitimacy because these small trivial cuts are the ones that get to us that continue to eat away at us even after the self pity you expect to be hurt by the sticks and stones but in the end its the paper on which we place our words.* Thats what gets you in the end

can you solve me?

unfold me expose my problems.maybe not. a simple bow slowly becoming a masterpiece of interwoven components. pick up sticks. twister. limbo. on the brink of collapse. one. two. three strikes you're out. those are the rules, are you ready? go! drugs. depression. disability. drinking. dementia. blasting any sound to keep out the shouts. deceit. lies. regret. abuse. curses spilled out. carful you might trip. Or maybe you already are. like I said, a bow, so easy to undo, so simplistic, internally it becomes equivalent to rocket science. Where's the key to success? the missing puzzle piece? buried in as-seen-on-tv purchases and old moldy mattresses, children's toys and croc pots. smothering the pain of a loved one passed. is he dead or alive? who knows. Is she going to make it to 50?unlikely. suicide just in time for a birthday. unfair exchange.continuing pattern. someone has to make up the hoi palloi no one can or will solve it.you can take that to the bank...just wait a couple weeks

Sharp edges made of metal

This may be your perception

Of a weapon

But the weapons that are mental

The ones a broken soul make

Love and Hate

Decide your fate

Hate might your bones break

But love is the weapon that will

****

One gave a necklace
One gave a bouquet of flowers

One will last forever
One will be turned to dust by now

If given the choice what do you choose?

The one that will be a constant reminder of first intense love then unimaginable pain
Or the one that will in time become a funny anecdote at dinner party over cocktails

All I want to see is a young couple, happy, and oblivious to the world

All I want to see are the delicate pink pads of my cats paws

All I want see are wide open spaces that promise endless possibilities

What I do see is one of the local **** heads smiling to herself as she nears the liquor store

I see people walking alone with headphones in looking at their phones instead of the sunset

I see a broken world inching closer to the precipice of no return

walking in perfect temperatures

taking a deep breath and thinking

air like this deserves a poem

a poem not depicting drama, deceit, death or doom

but a poem that expresses the beauty seen in one set of eyes

and shares it with others using only words

beautiful words meant to create joy and love

a poem meant to remind everyone that

sometimes life gives you lemon drops

numb
everyone unfeeling
following the predestined path
everyday the same
striving constantly for normalcy
the result of a childhood
suppressing individuality
then sometimes there's
that one person who
is so desperate
just to feel something
they listen to what the movies and music tells them to do

drugs

pretty soon
the drugs are the only thing
That makes them whole
happy
some survive it and some don't

Cause of Death: Ignorance

A thumb placed on the top. flicked down in a careless and familiar manner. the hiss of gas and burst of flame. blue. orange. yellow. flowing around white. inhale and exhale. the smoke rising peaceful and abstract into the night sky up to the stars who look down seeing a girl young but not naive. living in a world of her own. and despite endless prayers, finding herself alone at the bottom of every bottle with no god to guide her, friend to keep her company, or genie to grant her wishes.