The moment you forget.
Mind wanders with regret.
Eyes blurred, lose focus.
“What’s my current purpose?”

Is spontaneous enough?
Chasing a dream, tough.
As a child we rushed,
what was all the fuss?

The lost moment finds.
The lost moment unwinds.
The lost moment reminds.
Messes with our minds.

In that moment there is clarity.
We connect with our reality.
Understand humanity.
Endless possibilities.
Test our comfortability.

A chance to breathe.
Rebirth and see.
Are we where
we want to be?

Take that lost moment,
to reset your focus.
To find yourself and
your new found purpose.

I have never felt more alive than when your hands glided across the curve of my waist and you were smoking your marlboro black 100's and I could taste them on your lips while the sky blushed pink and red when it saw your naked soul. I've always held onto the things that destroy me most but for once I let go and held onto you instead. I held your hand too tightly and I heard bones break because I was so scared to show you the parts of me that were dying and you told me, baby you control which parts die and grow, and that was the first time I felt some form of self love in 3 years.
I want to take your sadness and grab it by its throat until it bleeds all of the poison that has harmed your body, because baby, your body isn't at war with you but it braces itself against the bombs you throw at it. you try to cover up the battlefields like I've never seen them before but you don't have to hide the ways you try to **** your sadness. dollar bills, razor blades, straight lines, bottles, and colourful pills do not define you, you are made up of the deepest depths of the ocean where no one has been, you are made up of the metaphors in every love poem, you are made up of your first kiss with cigarette lips, you are made up of the summer nights spent making love to the moon.
you see baby, you scream at the shadows of your worst fears that lay next to you in bed until your throat feels raw, but they won't always be there. I will take their place and whisper in your ear that you are an entire galaxy trapped inside one body and the star dust in your eyes shines brightest when you laugh.
but most of all baby, I see you as a mystery waiting to be solved, a tormented piece of art that is worth way more than money could ever buy, a empty home waiting for someone to be able to unlock the doors and feel safe inside. many have tried to burn you down after you let them in and you've sealed the door shut and closed the blinds. I've been knocking on the door for days and I don't know if you can hear me, but you are the only home I've ever known.

The distance between  the sun and moon
is a straight line, a few light years, one shooting star
or however many you want.

The distance between the two of us
is silence, a pair of shoes untied,
a walk with too many steps back.

Tie my shoes,  hold my hand.  
              I will show you where parallel lines cross.

you never know how much i cared
you never even cared how much i did
it hurts, though i never asked for more
i still loved you anyway

but the countless nights end
when all sweet legendary tales closed
a hymn to wave sweet farewell then
i closed my eyes in breeze of pain

you are free; you are now
go and fly
be happy, and promise me
to never come back
ever again
just a lil favor on my side.

this is the last time
i will not write about you
anymore good bye

I want to correct what I did wrong.
Just give me this one chance,
A moment to tell you
What I really wanted to say.
To erase the error
That tore us apart.
Though I'm not completely sure
If this will restore what we were;
But I'm certain of one thing,
You will sleep one night
Knowing that I love you.

I think you refuse me simply because I don’t give you any reasons to.
I told you I didn’t care about your past or about your afflictions
I told you that I would accept your flaws and show you love because of them.
I told you that I would respect you unlike anyone who you’ve known.

And yet now I’m the imperfectd counterpart of whom can’t receive love.

I guess I’m oxymoronic.
Because I’m so eager to accept the flaws of people who won’t accept mine.

We are critical.

We find flaws in
everything we see
because nobody
wants to write
about perfection,
even though sometimes
we wish we could just stay
staring into that
unblemished surface.

2. We are never satisfied.

We live our lives upon
mountains of
scrunched up
bits of refill and
ideas we gave up
trying to
express.

3. We never forget.

We write words about
eye contact made
three months ago
that we replay over
and over in our minds
even though it
stopped
being relevant.

4. We are fickle.**

Our emotions flash
from one
to the other
like strobe lighting that
disorientates us
until we feel as if
the world
will never be still.

5. We are exposed.

We don't know how
to keep our feelings
to ourselves so
we'll write them
down for
you to find
'accidentally'.

6. We are vulnerable.

We wear our
hearts on our sleeves
and won't lift a
muscle to fight back
if somebody tries
to break it
because we thrive
from the pain.

7. We will never stop.

We will never stop
feeling and
we will never stop
hurting,
we will never stop
breaking and
bleeding and
loving
even though the cycle
is endless
and we know what's
coming next.


We are addicted
to agony,
but we agonise
for the art.

When I can't feel anything, I watch a sad movie or read the ending of sad books and sometimes I wonder why I do things to make me cry instead of laugh until I waste an hour and a half watching a comedy that isn't even funny to remember  that the easiest feeling to achieve is heartache. And maybe that's twisted but I don't even remember what twisted is because twisted is my normal.

Sometimes happiness takes place of the emptiness but once it's gone it's like stepping on something sharp on carpet and trying to find it. And that may sound odd because stepping on something sharp is painful but so is a happy person with an anxious mind knowing that in only a matter of time that sweet, warm feeling won't be there anymore.

If someone were to knock on my body, it'd be hollow and they would probably imagine it as cold and damp and decide that it's not worth their time. And maybe that's why I'm alone, because everyone is a little afraid of an abandoned house.