No
You say "you don't know her
She's brilliant
she's understanding
She's the best person I've ever met
she's my hopes
my dreams
(gone)"
A fantastic character

I hate to always be the bearer of truth,
But, I've read her cover to cover
She's shallow and superficial
She puts up a facade of a unique individual and yet she's just within the boundary of normalcy.

I've examined all of her (superfluous) pages of work
And they only skim the surface of humanities skin
Circling around the moles and scars that pucker truth-
Brail for the the blind

I've dug deep within her words and read between each space bar
And there lies no feeling- no emotion...
Sheer unintended apathy

Still-With many attempts:
She doesn't capture the essence of regret or sorrow
She merely spits at its feet
And it shows
Because the pain she displays vanishes
From her readers
From the pages
From the words
From the letters
From the simple spaces
From the idea itself

And yet this somehow captivates you
Yet unbeknownst to you- you are not regret, nor are you sorrow,
You are simply embodying what she barely grasps in hopes to find what lies beneath for yourself

But you're burrowing into someone who hasn't yet lived or loved-
Who can't describe the burning bubbles that pop in your eyes from the tears of contempt
Who can't fathom deflation of breath in your shallowing lungs, nor the dam constricting your veins' blood at loss

She can't break down completely with you dangling along
So
She
Keeps you just within reach to describe something she encounters
Something she caused
Something she can never embody  because  her "emotions" are a half lie:A secure defense
For power over others

As I lay here,
With my head on your chest,
Our bodies entangled,
You've got me wondering.
You've got me wondering,
Just how many girls
Have laid here before me,
How many girls did you talk into bed?
Do you use the same lines on all of us?
Did you tell them what you told me?
Or is it really different with me?
I lay here with my head on your chest,
My eyes wide open,
These thoughts racing through my head,
When you ask me,
What's on your mind?
But I keep quiet about this,
Mumble nothing to you,
And as you drift off to sleep
I grab my things and leave.
I grab my things and leave,
Just like all the others did before me.

today
is all I have

yesterday
is worlds away

tomorrow
never comes

it was in the year 1901
when I stopped at Gustav's
from the raging storm
in the street of Paris
i looked up in the morning sky
blocked by the unfinished building
stood long and tall
in the same spot where
we used to lie under the shade
of a sycamore tree
oh im drifting since you walked away
the sound of rain
and the silent pain
im waiting for a clear day
to take my baggage for the next train

Your eyes laugh
     as loud as
           Your love,
                                                           ­        So I can't
                                                           ­              hear anything
                                                        ­                        else.
                                   ­                                                                 ­ I'm deaf.

Your whispers overcome
     screaming colours, slogans, labels.
                                                         ­             
                                                   ­                 Worthless, hopeless,
                                                       ­                   impossible, hurting,
                                                        ­                        fallen, broken.

"Courage, dear heart",
       You only ever expected me.

                                    

                    ­                Everything beautiful I ever saw,
                               *was preparation for the beauty of You.

I heard a loud crash,
As my prized hour glass landed with a smash,
And shattered into pieces on the floor.
I looked at the mess as I tried to envision,
Tried to remember the way it had looked before.
I stuck my hand into the sand
and held it up to my face.
It could never be the same,
It was something I can never replace.
The wind began to blow the sand away,
So I grabbed on tight and begged it to stay.
The tighter I gripped,
The more it slipped
between my fingers.
Each grain slicing my skin as it went,
Leaving me with wounds and self-doubt.
And before I knew it,
All my time had run out.