Let me hold you once
Before you told me to let you be free once

The poet lives two lives.
One on the outside,
And one in their mind.

When you look in their eyes
You could see an abyss.

If you looked long enough
You could sink into it.

But most people don’t see it.

Take the time to read the words, though,
And you would know for sure.

The poet lives in two different worlds.

and
just like
   tree buds
    in the
  spring,
i have been
     granted
  a season
     to grow

People see me,
And they see,
A losing battle,
Or so I think,

People see me,
And they see,
What once could've been a masterpiece,
Now shattering,
Or so I think,

People see me,
And they see,
A fool in wise man's clothing,
Or so I think,

I could be wrong.

I see with my eyes,
Critical eyes that cut through the lies that I tell myself daily,

I don't have 20/20 vision,
But my eyes slice through with precision,
All the walls I've built to hide behind,

I know my own mind,
Too well to begin to pass judgement,

Maybe you have different eyes,
That look at me and see clear skies,
And spring and new beginnings,

Or perhaps in me you see,
The vastness of a salty sea,
Or the violence of a hurricane,
In its spinning,

Yet in me,
There may only be,
A sort of everyday plainness,
And nothing particularly exciting,

I could be wrong.

I can only write what my eyes see.

Call me heartless
if it helps you feel better

keeping me locked in a memory
of bitterness
dragging my name through the dirt
as you tell the next girl of the one
before

I can keep your kisses pressed
against my heart
and pretend the sweetness lingers

if it makes you feel better
be cruel and not kind

I don’t mind