There's so many emotions
        that are conveyed with ten words

sometimes i still have
to take a deep breath
and remind myself
that not everyone will break me
like you did.

I often build the house we could live in
With massive windows and towering ceilings
And an odd arrangement of candles that I'm so fond of
And you'll never see it but
That's ok.
And I do it all the hard way.
Because that's the truth about us.
It's hard and it won't ever happen but if it did
God wouldn't that be something

Hair pulling.
Teeth grinding.
Paper throwing.
Pencil breaking.
Heavy stressing.
Ugly crying.
Overly frustrating
Finals.
Man, **** this studying ****.
I'd rather have a beer.
Or 10.

there are two types of sadness

there's the kind that i can't bare
so i watch friends
and listen to happy music
and find someone to talk to

then there's the other one
when you know you're sad
but you want to isolate yourself
and just
drown
in the pool of emotions
listen to sad music
read quotes about life
and
basically
just feel empty

during my worst times
on the park benches
in the jails
or living with
******
I always had this certain
contentment-
I wouldn't call it
happiness-
it was more of an inner
balance
that settled for
whatever was occuring
and it helped in the
factories
and when relationships
went wrong
with the
girls.
it helped
through the
wars and the
hangovers
the backalley fights
the
hospitals.
to awaken in a cheap room
in a strange city and
pull up the shade-
this was the craziest kind of
contentment

and to walk across the floor
to an old dresser with a
cracked mirror-
see myself, ugly,
grinning at it all.
what matters most is
how well you
walk through the
fire.