stuck in the past
but the past doesn't want me
thinking of you
its no surprise that i'm lonely
i need to find a way out
but i can't breathe
and i keep stumbling back
on our memories
you've moved on long ago
and i rolled on too
seems now that he is gone
my mind wanders to you
but its been 5 years
and i haven't heard from you
its pathetic
that your face keeps coming into view
i need to run
and seek the future round the corner
cause thinking bout the past
is my old self, its the former
and its only cause i'm alone
yes, i'm a loner
that you drift here
you should stay a goner.

i have depression
and i don't want to be that person
that is disappointed at the end of their life
because half the time they didn't get out of bed
or sat in the shower for 2 hours
because it felt good to feel warmth for once
but its been running my life for so long
and i have been letting it win
letting it surround me
and its so hard to take back control
when i have to walk 1,000 miles
to get a shred of that control back

no one really gets it..
can you really expect it??
there's no real way,
you can always have your way.
and yet we always try
pursuit of perfection til we die
not a smudge nor misplaced hair
no of course, cause somebody will see it there.
could you put down your shroud
and let someone see that you are proud
of who you are, no matter stain nor scar
cause living life on par is what most people are
or are just trying to accomplish
and some people wish
they could have your face
and are ****** with disgrace
because they can't get their blush exact
or keep their tan intact
please tell me this isn't fact
and i will prove you wrong each time
i'm done with feeling undermined
each time i go out
without make up on
because i want to feel beautiful, myself..
in my skin without your help.

the way the light brushes the white of a wall
at mid day when the sun is highest
and the smell of your home most familiar
the way he accepts my palm unyielding
stiff backed, and expectant
not wavering or wincing backward
soft furr tousled, and shiny grey in the
fingers of light through the window
the way your pillows feel in the morning
arms escapsule the cushiony fluff
and the scent of last nights smiles
the silence of your own space
serenity in the quiet against the warmth of your own skin
reminiscing along with swirling cloud like
memories while you watch your cat snooze
serenly on a windowsill..

truth can come in many forms
it's been said that everyone has their own forms
for me
truth comes through my poetry
if you're looking for "believable"
that's not something i can give you
belief comes from yourself.
could it come from fancy words
and flow of the prose??
cause i could sling some vernacular
that could positively represent my
acuity of the english language,
but i'm afraid your ineptitude would be
too staggering for you to hilt.
i don't need big words,
or ornamental text.
you need an open mind,
because my truth is for me.

i wish she knew
how much i need her
to see me,
and let me in.
i wish i could show her
how much good
us being together would be
but she refuses to listen
i wish she understood
i don't want to be mean,
or seem needy, i'm not..
she made me
i wish i didn't have to
but i'll keep waiting for her
until she gives up
and let's me win.

i wish i had someone
to cradle my head
and whisper in my ear
that life isn't as bad as it appears.
i wish had i someone
that would come over
in the middle of the night
to let me cry until its alright.
i wish i had someone
that i could speak to
about anything and everything
and i would listen to their everything.
i wish there was someone
out there waiting
for me
like i wait for them.