His eyes glared with my reflection,
His eyes are deeper than the ocean,
His eyes are darker than the night,
His eyes are sharper than the knife.

His hands were moving, approaching my body,
His vanilla perfume linger around me,
He whispered, "It ain't my fault, right?"
He smiled, his smile got my tongue tied.

"What do you mean?" I asked,
He answered, "I don't love you anymore,"
As he said that, he pulled out a gun from my pocket,
He pulled the trigger and a bullet cut through my heart,

He is right,
He is innocent,
It's my fault,
I let him got too close to me,
I let him broke down my wall,
I let him came to my life,
I let myself fall for him while he's falling for somebody new.

Ask yourself sometimes
How guilty you feel at times
Since you want to correct your present
Thank yourself at bedtime
Watching the moon crescent
How you rate your errors
Realizing your mistakes like horrors
Your charred dream would visualize
Making you realize
Your crumpled ambitions
With lots of inhibitions
Sun of civilization
Smiles at your assimilliation
Of future steps trending in your imagination

My last words to you were “I’ll see you later”.

Not “you mean the world to me” or “I would die for you” or “I love you”. Nothing that mattered, nothing that was real.  

I wonder why we say that. “I’ll see you later”. It’s a promise. A ridiculous vague promise that we know we can’t always keep.

I want to try again. I know we can’t rewrite history. I know that no matter how loud I scream you will never hear me. But I cannot say goodbye until I have let these words out of my aching soul. So here they, far too late.

I understand why you’re leaving. I know it’s selfish, but I wish it was me instead of you. You were always stronger, more equip for this life. You always  lead me through pain, how am I supposed to face it without you?

I’d give anything for you to stay for one more moment. To make one more snarky comment. To hear your voice just one more time. We didn’t get enough minutes, but I suppose even forever with you wouldn’t have been long enough.

I love you far more than I love myself. It doesn’t always seem that way, but you have seen my heart and held it in your hands. Didn’t you notice how it beat for you, spelling out your name over and over again? Did you realize I love you unconditionally? Did you know that I would burn down the entire world for you?

I want you to know, that all those years ago when I told you I hated you for making us walk away, it wasn’t true. In fact, I knew in the deepest part of my soul that it was what needed to be done but I didn’t have the strength to do it myself. So, when I said I hated you I actually meant that I hated me.

As these words come off of my lips I am starting to realize that I cannot do this without you. Please don’t go. Don’t leave me alone. I’m not going to make it. I won’t survive.

But if you must, I hope you find peace where ever end up. This life took so much and made you so **** tired, I hope you can finally rest.

Before you go, I have one last thing to say:

You mean the world to me, I would die for you and I love you.

Philosophers, poets, and parents alike
Will advise you
to stay focused on the future
To not stand rooted
with one foot in the past

But how can I walk forward
When I am anchored to the ground
Drowning in my anxieties and doubts?

Guarding my heart and head
Like a snake slithering around it’s nest
One wrong step or misplaced sound
And the vicious bite
will take my life

So I bury my head in old photo albums,
re-read books that once made me feel free,
And wash my sheets every Sunday
So that the smell of lavender and linen
never leaves my skin

Then I wonder to myself
Why Christmas doesn’t warm my heart anymore
Or why the water at our lakes edge
for once in my life Feels cold
why I don’t
laugh as much as I used to

I trouble my mind so much
That I have to distract myself
Just to stop worrying about wasted time
And to rid the recurring realization
That at this moment I am oldest I have ever been
And the youngest I will ever be

When did getting older become so complicated?
When did it start to feel  suffocating
Instead of liberating.

how can you call yourself a king
when you're not even living in a monarchy?

how can you call yourself a king
when you treat everyone like they're peasants?

how can you call yourself a king
when your heart is made out of fool's gold?

and how can you call yourself a king
when you don't even know what it takes
to be one?