I find the glass to be half empty,
He finds the glass half filled,
It's the same thing,
Except it is not literally,

Each one of us forgets, conveniently
That the glass can be refilled
Just as easily as it can be drained empty

And it's up to us
But we are too busy clanking the empty glasses together
Till they shatter,
Or, try to drown ourselves,
When they overflow.


I take a step in,
He repeats,
We both try to co exist in a way,
That neither of us are actually leaning,
Both trying to be friends,
With strangers' acceptance of how one is
I like to chatter, he wears a cloak of silence,
Except there's not much difference between either.

And it's up to us,
But we are too busy screaming to override the unwelcome words,
Or try to dance our imagination on the tune of silence,
Away from the cruel intentions, camouflaged with soft words
Except there's not much difference between either,
We both are shaped by our hurt, and undone by happiness.

I find the life to be a continuation of misery,
Add in some whining and self deprecating poems
Different faces, worn by the same ghosts
Different paths, same dead ends
Pursuit of ever evasive happiness,
Life is never changing.
You think every thing changes,
It's just me who is always going to look the same
To you at least

And it's up to us,
Whether we remain the same or not,
To grow up and grow apart,
Or to Shrink in and fade away
Except I look around,
And I know for you, it's always me
And you look back
And know I'm the one who has always been there

I find the glass half empty,
You find it half filled,
It's the same thing
Except it's not literally.

some people
are just
not very smart.

i'm talking adults.

they just don't have the
it, the
thing
that all the smarties
seem to have.
but they do seem
to talk a good game.

a key component is missing.
things don't add up.

and it's a
strange thing to witness,
to come to terms with,
to accept.

but let me tell you
the strangest thing
the most maddening of things:

observing other people
who you otherwise know
as smart people
fall prey
to one of the dummies.
the liars.
the snakes in the grass.

observing you
in this state of
sickness
and dementia
and delusion
is unreal.

you don't seem to be aware
that you are sick at all.

and in watching the
contortions you will make
for this fraud,
i see that stance
you have taken
on me.

If you haven’t existed I would have created you
Written you word after word
With blue eyes and red lips
Like the dream I had that day
When my heart started beating again
As the rain whispered you exist

If you haven’t existed I would have created you
Written you row after row
With curly hair and invisible wings
So we could fly together above the clouds
Embraced as now
Day after day waiting for the sunrise

If you haven’t existed I would have created you
Written you page after page
With smiling eyes and gentle soul
Painted you in the colors of the light
So I could find you when it’s dark
And you could kiss me when it’s hard

If you haven’t existed I would have created you
Written you poem after poem
Drawn you line after line
Until my mind went completely blank
For you have countless rainbows inside your soul
Without which the world would not exist

you're wrong
she is not understanding
she is of gigantic question marks and
she sleeps on a bone-numbing hard mattress of whys
she is in the sweat-breaking comfort of her lover's hold but she never told anyone how she made a commitment with a what ifs two years ago

you're very wrong
she is neither calm or kind
you can't really call a crying hurricane a calm and kind thing
her facade is smiling with a turbulent anger
but never to anyone, only her own
and she never leaves anyone's home without a gentle au revoir
but her room is just an empty, vacant loony bin
you can't really call a ghost a living thing