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Daniel Regan Feb 2015
Can I lay next to you when we have a rainy day?

Can I say all my neglected words that I never got to say?

Can I hold your gentle hands in the way I always wished?

Can I tell you there was never a second that you were not deeply missed?

Can I tell you that the light today seems to hit your face just right?

Can I tell you that your smile glimmers more radiant than the stars at night?

Can I tell you of the kiss that I’m struggling to keep from you?

Can I tell you it’s not the only thing I never wanted held from you?

Can I tell you of my past regrets that hold me back from life?

Can I tell you that your unobtainable love is my greatest source of strife?

Can I let my emotions get the best of me without a judgment passed?

Can I step away from this tattered guise and show you everything I've masked?

Can I tell you of a time when you were simply enough?

Can I tell you that I loved you more than how our lives are tough?

Can I tell you that I loved you more than how our futures will be rough?

Can I tell you that I’d love you more than our accomplishments and stuff?

Can I tell you that I’d love you more than our life would get tough?

Can I tell you that I’d love you more that our future would be rough?

Can I pull you close with all my might and kiss your lips once more?

Can I hold you in my arms again and say it’s you that I adore?

Can I be the person you've always wanted while being faithful to my core?

Or will I forever be held at this distance and afraid to open that door?

Or will I finally be free of my in capabilities to see our souls finally soar?
Daniel Regan Sep 2014
It’s that rough patch, not to be confused with that soft grass. Where its greener on the other side they say. So I put that clichéd line on replay, as my mind wonders away from its looped track and I find my soul drawn to this one rough patch. The one where the rain forgot to fall, though my depression looms like clouds ready to burst at its red taped seems. Ready to break free and quench the forsaken dreams, of those entangled in its constricting theme and the lack of what should motivate them to break free from this quilted piece of the so called American Dream. But this feathered ideology has just as much rooted truth as the forsaken grass. Ripped from the ground and held up by the masses, YOU think this drought will force the skies to fall to its knees and weep? You think my rain dance of soft spoken discipline and firm handed compassion is enough for Noah to build the ark? Send them in two by two with their quilted grass and torn seams. Bound in red tape, tax payer hate, and a world on their shoulders that’s now forced to their plates. Where chipped out bricks and clothes with rips meet the checkered grasses and one way trips down potholed streets. Where ‘broke’ is the culture, ‘cracked’ is the future, and ‘shattered’ is a person’s understanding of their purpose. Built on burnt out grass, rusted out fences, and busted out dreams. Of NBA stardom and NFL leagues. Only to be replaced with NBA sneakers and NFL ****. But that grass is green, don’t get me wrong. There’s that other side that we all try to focus on. Where positivity pushes mowers and helps plant seed, were people are built up like stalks using Jacks magic beans. Only to face the giants of our new reality, as these 12 year old doors close with a bells final ring. Forced in the world full of giant inequity, but that nice summer breeze always put me at easy. As I tie up the silver lining of my last pair of torn up jeans. Squinting from the light reflecting off these sky scrapping beams, of that ‘pulled up by my own boot straps’ ideology. That keeps on ripping up grass in the place of their concreted schemes. A foundation built on an inherited legacy of rolled up cotton sleeves. Only to be replaces with shiny new cuffs, Italian fitted fiends, and a lack a communal understanding. For those without an equitable ground to plant their dirt stained feet. Whose souls lack the foundation of an inherited concrete. Whose footsteps find only patches with the occasional green grass, stemming from the rain’s 7-3 schedule that never seems to last. Void of enough time for their neglected patches to be sown, for their budding grasses to be grown, and misguided shoes to be souled. But the inherited rain continues to fall and some grasses remain green, enough to keep the majority screened to this water tower of inequality. Or at least content as their grasses get wet, cultivated by willful ignorance and an acquired colorblind sense. A sense of understanding as we judge our lawns the same. Remembering our own discoloration as our colorblind eyes takes aim. To pelt our vibrant lawn with the care it so desperately needs, making sure to fill in the spots where our grasses meet our weeds. Forgetting that our feet once stood in a plot of browned out patches, as we stand within the greener side not to be confused with the softer grasses.
May 2014 · 476
Why Love (5-18-14)
Daniel Regan May 2014
Oh sweet love, why do you hide in the shadows of my own self-doubt? Why do you torment me with images of perfection and perseverance when the human conditions stands in contradiction of cinematic flawlessness? How do I look beyond your digital providence when your organic counterpart lacks your provocative nature?
I follow storyline after storyline of heartache and sorrow as my heart fills with every beating note of your symphony of wishful yearning and lust. Oh you are my downfall love. You are my pain. You are all I have to lose and gain when the walls of my own sanity come crumbling down around me.
Love, your bipolar benevolence holds me up and throws me down. I look to the rain for sympathy but find the same disconnect I have with love as it has with the ocean. Your fickle grasp on my nights force me into days of ungodly self-loathing and pity towards my own self-awareness.
How I wish the elixir of forgotten memories and combustion of nullified senses were enough to guide me towards a lifetime of simplicity. But their medicinal and destructive nature hold only a reminder of my own impatience and impotence towards love. Numbing waves of philosophical hypocrisy banging against my brain in the hopes their square pegs and round holes can someday work out a solution to this ever-unsolvable problem.
Why can I not find you love? Why can I not find your ever-elusive shades of grey in the happiness of the common placed world? Why can I not find solace in your warm embrace and southing whispers of reassurance throughout my trying days and nights? Why do I look to you for understanding when it is the very thing I lack when chasing you?
Love, sweet love, I am tired. My boyish ambitions and mature desires are at war with one another. They strip me of sleep and forge images of my dwindling past and uncertain present. Merging forgotten losses and that which I crave in the present, only to show me how much I lack in controlling of my passions. You, my sweet love, are going to be my destruction.
You, my sweet love, are going to be my demise and my rebirth. Hope has no fullness or lessness in this illogical conundrum that has my mind spinning. You have no control over your influence and yet, influence my decisions beyond the scope of my understanding.
Love, my treacherous friend, how can you be unaware of your unpredictable power and remain a foreseeable authority over me?
Apr 2014 · 502
abc123 (April 19th, 2014)
Daniel Regan Apr 2014
aaabbbcccdddeeevery word, thought, feeling made simple by those and that which create it fffggghhhow am I suppose to find the bigger picture in this world of I SPY, CSI, and magnified screens, text, and images iiijjjkkklllet me suppose we do it without conscious regard for the bigger picture, but I cannot believe that when we scrutinize each other to the point of minimizing each other’s soul, purpose, and individuality mmmnnnooopppqqquite the notion when you examine the world around us and its ever outward expansion by mans technology, freethinking mind, and unquenchable reach rrrssstttuuuvvvery ironic as I focus on the letters that give me inspiration yet cling to the words that give voice to my every fleeting thought wwwxxxyyyzzzero chance that my message finds a bigger paper, forum, or world for the letters that make them up do not scream loud enough for the worlds magnifying glass to hear zzzyyyxxxwwwith ever black to white click of thought it becomes analyzed by the grammatically correct, socially adept, and economically sept vvvuuutttsssrrreveling itself in form, purpose, and motivation as my numbers climb with the amount of eyes that these words find qqqpppooonnnmmmy own ego lost in a numbers game and battle of the words, played against my own self doubt and an ever changing world lllkkkjjjiiilluminated by an audience whose thoughts are much like my own, who play under the same lights and are surrounded by the same dome hhhgggffforever screaming in black and white as the world spins in color, reveled in pictures but structured in letters and numbers eeedddcccbbbaaalone we must all feel as we stare at the big picture and the underlining letters, while our life moves beyond the sight of our glass
Daniel Regan Mar 2014
Stand firm young explorer, our reality is before your eyes. The path of least resistance comes and goes with the reading of the signs. Do not reach beyond their grasp dear astronaut, for you can only hold what you must. And your disinclined stance may start to sway, towards a book of spiritual trust. A compass of lost translation, which has been tattered by the evolution of our time. Sown together by imperfect hands and tongues, of the righteously divine.  Or instead you stumble towards numbered texts and the collection of mans thoughts. Classified, organized, and defined in complex logical knots. A thorn bush of intricate perceptions of our multifaceted human condition, subjected to nothing more than our screaming birth and our timely decomposition. But fear not my naive trekker, for the decision is yours to hold. Either with nail in hand or the hammer made ready, may your heart be ever so bold. And though the philosophical plates of these worlds seem to diverge from once connected fates, the heavens you come to find as a result may be behind different gates. Only you hold the key to open your ever changing mind, one carved by humble carpenter hand or molded by mankind. So step lively youthful sailor for the winds are at your back, and the house from which you build your truth comes of brick or with cross-bared plaque. Worry not of your inaction little voyager, for the world will not react. The world remains in constant motion, and will force you to interact. Whether several days of creation must pass or a bang of creative juice, it is you who must chose to dive in the water or walk above man’s made truth. So good luck my inexperienced hiker as the waves of decision roll in. May the solace you find in the choices you make be without regrettable sin. I pray the stars you look to at night point you toward your goal, and that you find a balanced understanding of the earth and your spiritual soul.
Mar 2014 · 439
Cliched Depth (3-18-2014)
Daniel Regan Mar 2014
Oh your face it does haunt me like all cliché lines do. Circling in my thought process as they find paper in reluctance but utter truth.  Destine as is the rain drop is fated to find the earth. And although its home is made for a short while, its energy is forever lost to the world around. Oh how I wish to be that rain drop. To carry weight and energy into everything I touch though my boundaries remain limitless. Unaware if I am to turn into a soaked sweater, a splash on a running shoe, a man’s’ blinding annoyance, or just another drop in the ocean. And though my clichés may never change the weather, I am praying that you and I might end up together. Hoping that my energy remains limitless and finds sought after boundary in your presence. Hoping to be a damp spot on your sweater is my comforting relief from the separation of the swirly storm I’m in and your forever distant shore. But I am a lowly drop and you sweater holds no warmth for me as our once connected past becomes nothing more than flooding memories now. Passing by as did the running shoe in puddled ground. Flung from disapproving eye and forever to remain amongst the waves of the unforgiving ocean. Prayer holds no weight here. Hope as important as the sand we all overlook and pass by without second glance. And though my present tides throw salt in past wounds, I look to the horizon in search of your coast. I look to the sky for my dove holding an olive branch and the sun to elevate me from my watery prison. With the belief that as I move closer to heaven, I move closer to you.
Daniel Regan Feb 2014
I am so miserably unhappy and i just want to be heard. I want more then your sympathy and a compassionate word. I want more then a sorry and a moment of your time. I want more then 'you'll be ok' and a few words that rhyme. I want more then a kiss in a sentimental place. Found just on my forehead, on the edge of my face. I want more then the struggle and to turn it all around. And I want more then your perspective on positivity and where its all found. Or when, or by whom, or how it comes to be. I've had enough of your words of wisdom and ideology. I want more then a quick fix from liquid memory loss. And I want more then a women's sheets who need a good toss. I need more then a hand and a shoulder to cry on. I need more then a day off and the coming of a new dawn. I need more then a far run or a weight to be lifted. I need more then a career change or my life to be shifted. I need more then you and I need more then me. I need more then I hold and more then I see. I need need more then i know so I can understand. Whether the life that I lead is one that I truly command.
Daniel Regan Dec 2013
It started in the night and continued through the day. The wish to find my running shoes and throw it all away. To head towards the setting light in search of a familiar face. Only stopping for a moment to check if my shoes were truly laced. Finding only that my soul continues to wear with every passionate stride. Falling apart to the rhythmic concrete as my laces became untied. Reaffirming my life’s simple intent with every double knot. To find the life my days and nights had truly ever sought. So with tightened lace and replaced tongue, I bandage my blisters and refill my lungs. Hoping their overuse will lead me away, towards life greatest intent found in my nights and days. And as my blisters bleed again and my soul starts to rip, my lungs begin to give and my tongue finally slips. The winding road roughens and the weather begins to shift, as the distance of my journey becomes my life’s greatest shrift. Persevering for the days and nights that I simply would not act, and would only settle willingly on my life's beautiful abstract. And so I struggle through the pain in search of my perfect pace, which could lead me to my destination and the life I seem to chase. But the journey itself does not begin until I abandon my old ruse, and replace them with the souls of my used running shoes.
Sep 2013 · 3.3k
Reafi (Sept. 15th, 2013)
Daniel Regan Sep 2013
I fear the light with the sun and the dew. I fear my echoes that they might wake you.

I fear last night and I fear today. I fear the word that my motivations make us say.

I fear my regrets and I fear their truth. I fear that your maturity overpowers my youth.

I fear your thoughts and I fear your mind. I fear my willingness to be unapologetically kind.

I fear the silence that always rings through. I fear the awkward smiles they force out of you.

I fear my affections and how I react. I fear that my actions wont leave me intact.

I fear the road and I fear its end. I fear the message my silence will send.

I fear your love and I fear my pain. I fear the stillness that comes with the rain.

I fear my inaction and I fear my lingering hand. I fear where my emotions force me to stand.

I fear your smile and I fear his too. I fear the backstabbing that I just went through.

I fear my relations and their impact on me. I fear their power to bring me to my knee.

I fear the future and I fear my heart. I fear not returning from what was my start.

I fear my life and the time on my clock. I fear there is no one who can listen to me talk.

I fear my words and I fear yours too. I fear I have lost all trust in me and you.
Sep 2013 · 813
Be my 180 (8/02/13)
Daniel Regan Sep 2013
I have to don the face of madness when I encounter your shadow. Held back only when that shadow pulls a 180. And though I cannot hold the hand of this shadow and spin madly on with it. I grasp unwillingly to the hand that catches my grip. Catches my palm, catches my five reasons for holding on. Because your shadow is the only shade of you I can seem to handle. The one I wait on to signal the coming of a new day. The only one I hold my breath for because it holds no breath at all. But rather the idea of catching up to someone whom I wish to see vanish. No, I hold no distain towards you and no pleasure in seeing the shadowy curves of you saunter off into the sun. No I do not hold regret in the distance found between your shadow and I, because that distance cant seem to multiply fast enough for my liking. And though the closer and closer you get to that sun represents sunshine entering my life again, it will never be enough. Because even when you walk head first into that sun I know your every molecule is still floating in this endless universe of ours. I will never be without your presence, I will never be without your shadow, I will never be without you haunting my every thought. For no matter the alcohol consumed, cannabis smoked, and concussions sustained I will never be able to put a scratch on the lyrical nightmare that was our song. That was our time together, and though I try and play DJ and put a positive spin on our song…Im reminded that it once was played. So I look for your shadow every night and every day. Not for torment sake but for the little sanity that remains to show me that the monster that was once my love can be slain again, and again, and again. And though it keeps returning I remind myself the difference between your darkness and my light is exactly 180 degrees.
Aug 2013 · 934
Till then (Aug. 18th, 2013)
Daniel Regan Aug 2013
My expectations take flight as we wonder through this once youthful and promising night. The only hope for a tomorrow comes with forbidden touch and a forbidden, connected sight. Longing for a quiet moment alone as your eyes slowly shift to meet mine. Connected hands pulling from considerable constrains as the clock gradually strikes nine. The world begins to slow as if to say there may not be another.  Or rather there may not be another one worth your passion now uncovered. Resurrected from our past as our softened minds are kept in a hazy check. By wondering eyes, unreciprocated passions, and friendly arm around our neck. And though instants stole in the shadow of the masses bring forbidden thoughts to light. Kinship to another uncovers doubt with a strong, unrelenting might. Unremitting hesitation as we’re forced to balance our duty and what we know as true. To those we brought to conquer the night and to our passions we wish to pursue. And as our night moves towards dawn we watch the other move along, towards a night of least resistance. With once promising passion now unwillingly forgone, and the other lost to the distance. Slowly awakening to our regret as the other does the same. Wondering if the night was different could our lust have been ours to claim. Would our desire to move beyond our duties have been made with worth and good intent. With others consent and no argument for the decisions we now circumvent. So with our train of thought chasing an end to our sorrow filled silence we search for just one more glance. Only to find remorse and a white flag waving reluctantly at our lost chance. And as the metal doors close on our promising night we wonder could this have been real. As I steal one more glance with the turning of the wheels putting miles towards our past so surreal. Hoping only for fate to smile again and give our passions a chance once more. Of a night filled with desire, lust, and affection that our destiny wishes to restore.
Daniel Regan Apr 2013
Oh, I got that feeling again. I’ve been staring at the ceiling again. Letting my heart take flight, as the music reaches its height, taking my thoughts out of minds’ sight. But this feeling I now fight, cannot be controlled. Cannot be moved, overcome, or even forced to fold. Gripping my ever-changing soul and forcing my hands. As my breath leaves my body and my feet forget to stand. Hands pushed to speak through the letters they find. Putting feelings to words that cant seem to speak my mind. Frustrated by my inaction, that passively takes form. In the words I now force to unwilling conform. To these one-inch margins that box in my thoughts, constricting my deepest feelings and simplify life’s plot. All perpetuated by the rhythm, of the ever-spinning fan. Mounted just above my bed, that seems to hypnotize what’s in my head. Threading image to feeling, and my feelings to my words. As the tapestry of us, now resembles fleeing birds. Each winged reminisce that has forever taken flight, a moment in time that will always hold spite. Towards cliffs edge that stands between what the heart seeks. And a mans inability to step beyond its daunting peak. So with time ticking down and our future running by, I stand at a distance and continue our little lie. One living in the shadows of nights eternally pasted on, when passions ignited without though of our coming dawn. Only of the connection made with courage in hand, liquefied to motivate beyond what history had banned. What allies once forbid and witnesses cheered on, inhibition finding wind and politics forgone. Now forced to be nothing more then memories in the sand, as our hourglass approaches empty and my thoughts continue to be fanned. Continue to find rhythm as the blades spin madly by, ticking down to a day when I cannot take the lie. Cannot take this falsehood that pushes me from behind, as I approach that daunting edge of my own terrified mind. So with time in short supply along with my pride, I put black to white and our segregation aside. In the hopes that time stands still for just a moment more, to help you understand that it is you I adore.
Daniel Regan Mar 2013
I have read my last cliché line, and spoke my last ambiguous truth.  I’ve found the lack of principle in mankind, comes in both old age and in youth. One born from lack of days, passing beyond so few a night. The other hardened from too many wrongs, being passed along as ubiquitous rights. Truth finding no firm a ground, to grow without contempt. From those whole look to yield its might, and twist it with malicious intent. Those footed in ill-fated hypocrisy, both by practice and in speech. Principle scorn from lips once pure, forged by what life’s path can teach. And though the values of an honorable man preside, at the conclusion of every poetic line. The truth that’s found between each word, can make a man think he is divine. Spoken with word as sweat as red wine, he believes the world drink with thirst. Or so thinks the man who speaks frivolously, without hearing his own words first. So he drinks in his own narcissism, as his words ring forever true. In his nostalgic mind that never changes, or lets in sound anew. And that once juvenile and prospective boy, whose suns were few to shine. Has become a toughened old man, whose life has yet to be defined. By a principle worth shouting, to the heavens and beyond. Beyond his many nights and far more days, who hold to him a bond. Of servitude to his truth, regardless of its legitimacy. That which forges what will be his legacy, for everyone to see.
Daniel Regan Mar 2013
Sparks begin to rage, and cluster on my skin. Scars begin to form, as my demons begin to win.
The pain begins to bubble, blistering from within.  Scabs begin to show, as I bleed forth all my sins.
Evil finds it breath, and a fire now ensues. Throwing water on a blaze, though I know I’m going to lose.
Burning deep within, as my burdens begins to fade. Though the wounds are in the past, the coals become a new shade.
Glowing florescent green and blue, with intensity brand new. As gasoline is thrown unknowingly, by the choices I pursue.
My misconfigured body, has taken on new shape. For the blazing inferno controls me now, as my body is relentlessly *****.
Scorched by my own hand, as no bandage can be of aid. Praying for the ashes and the shimmering remnants to fade.
Clutching to my body, and holding to what’s left. Fragments of a soul remain, as the fire plagues me with theft.
Taking from me my sanity, and all hope of escaping hell. And leaving my charred remains, in this blackened and empty shell.
And from darkened knee I arise, with embers still alit. And dust from me an ashy cover, though my eternal sentence not remit.
Feb 2013 · 1.0k
Shot in the Dark (Feb. 7th)
Daniel Regan Feb 2013
Silence between my ears, it’s this pause that I fear. Rubbing my eyes in disbelief, hands shaking with no relief. Heart pounds with no end, racing thoughts I try to fend. Patience seems to hold no grip, pain coursing through my bottom lip. Words becoming hard to write, anxiety filled as I try to fight. Apprehension is keeps me on a high, feelings of sanity passing me by. Silence broken by sudden shock, body begins to come unlocked. Senses heightened to every sound, words being to bring me down. Expectations start to crack, feelings of insecurity I do not lack. True emotion comes over me, afraid of what the world might see. Back behind my guise I go, true passion I will not show. Afraid of what just happened now, no emotion seen upon my brow. Hidden behind my darkened hood, strength gone from where I stood. Hope for another possible try, may come again under a different sky.
Daniel Regan Jan 2013
Can I borrow your voice, because I’ve seem to have lost mine. In search of a purpose, that I’ve found in a line. About love that’s been found in a place without hope, that oppresses its people without shackles or ropes. In a place with a light that shines in the dark, that echoes of praise, music and baby shark. Where the youth of tomorrow step for what’s right, in the name of equality and justice with unwavering might. A place where we have all given so much, and received even more from the people we’ve touched. But our yesterdays have passed and out tomorrow is today, and I struggle for happiness as Selma drivers away. So I stare out the window with my mind in a daze, as this once alien scenery catches my gaze. And the trees pass in rhythm as I fall victim to sleep, with only one thought on my mind…the company I keep. For I have been blessed by the company I hold, the experiences we’ve had and the stories we’ve told. By the games we’ve played and the relationships we’ve formed, by the tears we have shed for weathering the racial storm. And as I stir from my sleep I wake without fear, because the people I’d bleed for are sitting so near. So with my voice fading fast I say to you all, if the road gets too hard, don’t be afraid to call. For your callous hands look exactly like mine, from the work that we’ve done to make Teppers shine. And if you need a wise word or a shoulder to cry, I can be there for your lows and even your highs.  This trip has meant more to me then words can express, and its you with my heart that I choose to invest. So with these last and final words, I compassionately say to you. Keep you minds always open and your heart will stay true. Because our world is always changing no matter what we do, and it is you whom I love that will bridge the old and the new.
Daniel Regan Jan 2013
We pick and we choose in a fit of immature hope,
Though the effects of our choices are beyond our very scope.
Driven by the soul and its insatiable need,
To fill itself full for that which we bleed.
For that which we fall and get up again,
For that which cry and put paper to pen.
All for the sake of our insatiable thirst,
That some see as a blessing and others a curse.
But the game must be play with all that we hold,
With our hearts and our honesty and we must be bold.
To look defeat in the eye and never say die,
As cliché as it is…it isn’t a lie.
So open your eyes cuz you have never been blind,
What you see in your heart is the same in your mind.
And wait not for fate to come stumbling by,
For you hold the key that opens their eyes.
Daniel Regan Jan 2013
Tattoos covering a man that speaks of his soul
A dog with a playful heart and loving tongue
Miles of dandelion covered fields and poison ivy infested forest
Mud covered boots and worn out running shoes
Smoke rising from a chimney and an open door lifestyle
Swings swaying in the wind connected to a cat-**** infested sandbox
A pond with fishing poles in the dirt and a splintery dock
Paint stripped basketball hoop without its net ripped and torn
Rocks and logs surrounding an overused fire pit
A lush garden with every kind of bug and animal
Another dog with his wise years found spotted on his nose
An old, leathery glove with its seams falling out
Scratched and scorned arms from 4th of July bottle rockets
Mom and dad a quick walk just a mile down the road
A 1962 Corvette Stingray parked next to the dusty van
Two cats sleeping the day away on the porch
A trampoline with rusted springs and a sprinkler underneath
The grill cooling from an afternoon of burgers and hotdogs
The brother flying in from Colorado after a week on the slopes
Rock and roll blasting from the house that can be heard for miles
All the windows open to take in the summer air
Every pillow and blanket carefully positioned to make an epic fort
Bikes hanging in the garage next to the bin with every ball you can think of
An over used washer and dryer next to the hallway with endless pictures
Half finished schoolwork on the table surrounded by the crust of a PB&Js;
Rooms with unmade beds and works of art mixed in with stuffed animals
A sister biking in from the town just beyond the nature reserve
Wrinkled hands and dirt filled nails contrasted by a gold ring
Nerf bullets covering the floor, windows, and fridge in the kitchen
Chalk covered black top from the garage to the street
Lego towns and spaceships covering the coffee table
A whiteboard with math equations and tic-tac-toe fighting for whitespace
A wall full of board games missing a die here or a figuring there
Newspaper clippings, pictures of nephews and nieces, and report cards on the fridge
Coffee *** half gone, cereal bowls in the sink, and the oven on for some reason
Bike ramps with caution tape and under construction signs scattered in the garage
Firefly nights that have to compete with the millions of the stars in the sky
Flashlight filled ghost stories in the family tent with mallows and chocolate bars
Lazy afternoons with a good book ending with an even better nap
And a mailbox, surrounded by tulips, on my little patch of heaven.
Daniel Regan Dec 2012
Strip me not of my dignity, as i have little to give. When i stand before your gaze, i yearn for you to forgive. My juvenile past that became my beginning, of a lifetime of worrying in this world that is spinning. Standing before you now with my world upside down, afraid of the pain that is causing me to drown. In this purgatory of uncertainty I hold no control, of my pulse that has quickened and my heart that you stole. Of the pain in my stomach that has begun to take wings, and my sleepless nights where your voice continues to sing. I’ve given up hope to find my lost lucidity, as my words and emotions find some validity. In this meek commonality on this once black and unscripted page, set free from my insecurity and my cognitive cage. You are what set me free and caused me to write, to hold back no longer this wonderful burning light. That has taken control and forced me to be, overwhelmingly and uncontrollably happy. I smile when you smile and laugh when you laugh, waiting patiently to see you through its only a second and a half. And though I see myself as completely lost without you, I wish to not be found if you are lost too. But lost I remain as I search and I search, not for my light but for the courage that remains perched. High in a tree and just out of reach, as I stumble over myself and search for my speech. Hoping one-day to climb that daunting tall tree, and show you the happiness you bring out of me. But for now I stay lost and sitting in plain sight, tirelessly afraid to express that which I now write. Looking for the time when I can summon all my strength, and become more then what we hold at arms length.
Daniel Regan Dec 2012
We as humans define our fears by that which we can’t control. Those things that stand just outside our physical grip but lay within the range of our persuasive comprehension. For control translates to security in whatever realm of life we seek, and many hold to that security as a lifeline for social and personal survival. The same survival techniques that have dictated our every move since the dawning of our time, but now finds reformed salvation in the egocentric world that we humans have so maliciously conquered. And though the means by which control is obtained changes from era to era, the quest for it still holds the same aggression and ferocity by which we have pursue it since before mans evolution. Holding complete disregard to everything in our path if only for the pursuit of this so called happiness. Perpetuated happiness that has been malevolently twisted and manufactured to fit the fantasies of those who deem it worthy. Regardless of the overt subconscious damage being done to those who adopt these practices. Regardless of our fellow man who gets forgotten and dismembered in the dust. Regardless of the destruction that is then committed upon the earth itself. All in the name of perceived happiness and an unwillingness to accept change into our lives. And though this phobia of what we cant control dictates the steps we take and mistakes we make, there is still hope. Hope for free thought and disconnect from the need of control. An acceptance of a blind destiny. Not a destiny for those unwilling to take the reins of life and influence it as they see fit, but rather one who understands that the reins are not theirs to control. And though control might be had from time to time, there is the awareness that it is fleeting. That it is always in flux and though the heavens might smile in your favor today, tomorrow they might turn their back to you all together. So rather then embracing that which we can control and discarding that which we cant, shouldn’t we be accepting that by which we cant control and forgiving ourselves for clinging onto the momentary continuity within our lives that is control? Or are we doomed to always put out mental, physical, and spiritual wellbeing on the line in order to obtain that transitory sedative that quells our animalistic needs?
Dec 2012 · 514
Painful Sip (Sep. 9, 2012)
Daniel Regan Dec 2012
The room begins to spin as the night takes me away. And the pain of tomorrow becomes a forgotten yesterday. Slowly coming to as my blood begins to clots, its replaced by the numbness as I take another shot. One to the chest and one to the head, as the reminder of forgotten pain flows from where I bled. Reaching for a needle but only finding glass, the numbness becoming my pain with the hope it will not last. Perpetuated agony forces me to feel, the numbness of the liquor or the pain that will not heal. Afraid of feeling too much or feeling not enough, coming face to face with my demons or being perceived as tough. So I drown in my self-loathing as I empty my ****** cup, knowing the hole I’ve landed in goes down and never up. Hoping for the night to bring about another day, when my pain becomes my motivation to help me get away. But for now I fill my cup and hold tight to where I bleed, knowing a day will come eventually when I will finally be freed.
Dec 2012 · 790
Today (August 6th, 2012)
Daniel Regan Dec 2012
Oh how life changes. We take in the scene and tell ourselves this moment matters most. But another comes just moments down the road and as we take it in and we let it in almost simultaneously. As if we know to hold onto this fleeting feeling for all it’s worth and to then make room for its coming brother. One we embrace. Repeatedly. And without hesitation. Hoping for that same momentary high that came with the last inhale. Oh lord what a high. But we realize after one too many moments that our high probably wont be ever high as that one that dictates our intensions. The one that points out subconscious and predicts our every move. And at that very second, it’s as if the hands have been taken away from our eyes. Though we have never been blind to it, we recognize our lack of understanding of our very own human intension. Disillusioned to the highs of our society, family, and world we simply mover more towards our goals now, rather then our childhood highs. Taking a second look at that candy bar, episode on cartoon network, and fresh snowfall. Replaced forever with books, relationships, and a pocket full of security. Establishing ourselves, at least that is what we tell the little man in the back of our mind. Not realizing we have sold our soul to our worlds expectations. And in fact have lost ourselves more then we have intended to. Where have those days gone? That moment when the sunshine on our face felt better then the crisp 20 in our pocket. When pursuing the beautiful girl you saw only once was the only thing that mattered at that very moment. The second the cold rain felt more like rebellion then the onset of the flu. God I miss you moments, childish moments, ignorant moments. At least I lived once. At least I can say I lived once. And at least I can look back on my failures, successes, and missed attempts with only minor self-loathing.  Holding back my tears because that’s what we have been conditioned to believe as normal. Even if we realize that’s what makes us want to cry even more. Hoping for that moment when the tears dried and emotions felt free to the world to see. Where you felt heard, understood, and simply there. In the vision of someone other then yourself. Other then the smoldering presence of your own detrimental perceptions. But we grow up, told to, expected to. So that we can get ahead, not fall behind, keep ourselves striving for a sense of perfection. Though we contradict ourselves with our mantra. “I’m human,” “Everyone makes mistakes,” “No ones perfect.” Oh just shut up already. As if the perfect Greek bodies weren’t enough to make those with delicate self-esteem wish for a dotted line to cut across. Hoping the pain can draw out those forbidden emotions, those shunned feelings, those ostracized outburst. WELL ******* WORLD AND **** WHAT IS EXPECTED OF ME. Because this moment right here, this high right here, this moment of purity will forever symbolize freedom. Suicidal ecstasy from a reality that I never wished to be a part of. A world and way of living that gives nothing and expects more then ones soul is capable of giving. NO, I will have my moments. I will have my sunshine and rain.  I will have my candy and first days of winter. I will have blissful, childhood ambitions and breath in that moments that gives me a high only life can offer. And when I release it, it will not be with the expectation that another will follow suit. But rather with the intention to free.
Dec 2012 · 393
Summer Thought (07/15/12)
Daniel Regan Dec 2012
Oh sweet perfection, you will always be just out of reach. From my grasp, from my sight, and from my mind. And though this thought begins to settle in my mind, the simple knowing keeps me forever at the mercy of my dwindling hope. So maybe one more night of stringless commitments or drunken stupors may help to mask the relentless pain that stabs at my oversized heart. One that has been shapped by your ever lack of presence in my life. Molded by the hope that my once ignorant mind could actually hold you in hand and in spirit. But like my hope, my ignorance has vanished from my childish mind and i now see not only the error in my ways but the politics that i will forever battle in the hopes to find the next best thing to perfection.
Daniel Regan Dec 2012
Oh love struck heart, how I’ve missed you. Your quickened pace and weightless feel. As my eyes meet her gaze your once firm stance is forced to kneel. You cause my hands to shake when her voice finds my ear. And the smile on her, releases all of my fears. But my once lonely friend, you have invested too much. This love cannot come true, though you yearn for her touch. Her caress and her kiss, you will never call yours. Not now and not again, regardless of moments behind closed doors. I know you hurt and this pain cuts deep. Knowing you cannot love her and take that faithful leap. But love like this comes and then it will go, one moment you’re high and next moment you’re low. And then one day your feelings will flee, from the once cavernous chest found deep within me. Filler with these emotions that now distort my sight, force my hand to write, and makes my chest feel tight. Making me clench my shirt to hold in the butterflies, and force a friendly smile filled with those harmless lies. Towards a person whose beauty knows no bounds, whose gentle personality makes my heart relentlessly pound. And someday I promise your pain will be no more. And your heart will again heal where it has now been tore. We will stich you up again and move on as we always do, and convince ourselves once again to search for a love so true.
Dec 2012 · 513
Wish (June 13, 2012)
Daniel Regan Dec 2012
And sometimes I just wish…knowing full well that the stars above hold nothing in store for my empty plea. But still I wish…not because I am ignorant to the inner workings of man or the forces that control the cosmos, but because my soul demands it. It demands that I look beyond the forces of logic and reason to acknowledge the wonder that is our world, universe, existence. That is the heartbeat, the flower blooming, the sunrise. That is our skyscrapers, our mountain ranges, our river streams. That is love, compassion, happiness. Rationalize this world however you like but when we becomes desensitized to the awe of everything that is around us, then we have lost our connection with each other, ourselves, life. We have lost our connection with love, that sunrise, and our own heartbeat. When we cannot even recognize the amazing power that is simply a wish…then my friends how are we able to harness the power that is within our very souls. And so I wish. I wish upon candles and that shooting star. I wish when the clock turns 11:11 and I wish when I throw that penny in a well. I do this to remind myself that I am connected not simple to others by blood, skin, and bone…but by an idea. One that resonates with both young and old. One that reminds us that we are not alone and that we stand with billions of other feet planted firmly to the same dirt. A wish…hope with wings. And may it travel beyond that which holds us down to the ear of our destiny.
Daniel Regan May 2012
No one ever tells you how to avoid that painful fall, or how to pick yourself up once you’ve hit that daunting wall. No one ever tells you that regret stings like hell, and no one ever tells you to beware of where you fell.  No one ever tells you that sleep is hard to find, when regret is the only thing running through your ever-sleepless mind. No one ever tells you that your mistake will haunt you for good, or that you’ll see her face in places where both of you once stood. No one ever tells you how to make everything right, and no one ever tells you when it’s the right time to fight. No one ever tells you when sorry isn’t enough, and no one ever tells you that saying more is tough. No one can ever tell you when you’ll finally make peace, and no one ever tells you the right time to use some elbow grease. These lessons go unsaid not for simple neglect, but because of the uncertainty in life and when they take effect. They are lessons learn not through book nor are they taught at any school, but rather learned through scrapped knees and those times you’ll play the fool. And though you may kick yourself repeatedly and wish to start anew, the cliché you’re only human will simply have to make do. Because solace isn’t found in holding to your past, it’s found in in knowing your limitations and proving they wont last.
Daniel Regan Apr 2012
I have given up on you, for better or for worse. As I reluctantly recognizes this new reality, in another selfish verse. I’ve been screaming my tired lungs out for you, in this poetic sort of way. And now my voice is not the only thing, that has a debt I now must pay. You were the only thing my soul cried out for, as I navigated this life. But I found poison to fill my empty soul instead, as I traded you for a knife. I did not hesitate at the task in hand, for I believed my compass pointed straight. Unaware that the everlasting cuts id make, were guided by the hands of fate. And now their icy grip holds me down, to a road I wish not go. Down a lonely path I refuse to travel, though I started down it long ago. Confused and immature I was, to the workings of the mind. To the social cues of this two-step mentality, that has me emotionally and physically blind. But past describes that hopeless place, where no return would patiently wait. And welcome me with open arms, to a place I can’t mistake. A place that holds familiar shadows, and my reoccurring nightmares. It has been my home for quit some time, though I’ve been consciously unaware. Walking with these shoes I wear, that are stained with countless wrong turns. Unaware of all the bridges I’ve build, and then simultaneously burned. Just to lead me down this rabbit hole, with no escape in sight. Holding onto this naive notion, of you as my guiding light. But that was before the endless darkness, and before the poison set in. And now no return has me forever, forever abducted by my sins.  I’m staring hopelessly at my compass, as its needle spins madly about. And I hope the image of you etched in its back, never begins to wears out. For my shoes remind me of my faults, and my cuts reflect my sins. But your picture is the happiness I had, for a compass that did not spin. You were what pulled my soul forward, and kept my compass straight. And now no return points my way, towards a character I will desecrate. One that was build up so high, and held in such regard. Only to be thrown hopelessly aside; forgotten, burned and scared. So reluctantly I drag my feet, into this world I helped to make. Praying someday I see you again, and from the darkness I’d awake.
Mar 2012 · 648
Choose Wisely (04/04/12)
Daniel Regan Mar 2012
I am looking for a purpose behind all the things I do, maybe not a definite answer but possible a clue. To the direction I am heading and where fate may lay me rest. Is this constant confusion punishment or some kind of playful test. Am I merely a worn out puppet trying desperately to put on a show, for the entire world to see as my movements’ ebb and flow. With the intentions of my creator who smiles down at me, or chuckles at the torment that no one cares to see. Or is choice the only master that my world has yet to know, between divine books and holy scriptures it seems to be a no-show. Silently sitting in wait as the world screams madly on, crying softly to itself at human intelligence forgone. For as we take up arms in the name of what we think is right, we wildly swing our blades as we’re blinded by the light. And we forget the choices that sit there right before our eyes, and then we claim selfless ignorance as our actions cause us surprise. Blaming it on divinity as we fall helplessly to our knees, a deaf ear is where you’ll find all our hollow, empty pleas. So as the blade is forged in fire so too is justice born, and we must answer for our actions and the allegiances we have sworn. And know thy wrath is what they scream in the name of what they think, and the answer to my questions are then found in a momentary blink. As once blinded eyes go dark to the uncertain world around, true understanding of our purpose may finally be found.
Feb 2012 · 633
Rough Morning (02/20/12)
Daniel Regan Feb 2012
And when your days are short and your nights are long, you realize your faults and everything you've done wrong. You cower in fear at your own selfish demise, as you stare into the mirror at your bloodshot eyes. Stricken with the pain of all that you’ve lost, as you share a bed with agony regardless of cost. Regardless of all those you have left in your wake, for momentary pleasure and sanities sake. And now all that you’ve gained has become all that you’ve lost, as the lines you have draw begin to be crossed. Begin to be erased so that the world can make sense, of a society of people corralled by their fence. All different shades of shame and insecurity, with a height only determined by their childish maturity. But you scale all these fences and let yourself in, hoping for comradely or a moment of sin.  Anything to give meaning to your everlasting nights, and your constant stream of tears that you continue to fight. Night after night and day after day, insanity taking control in the worst possible way. Losing your grip on realities small weak hand, darkness taking over the lonely place you stand. All has been lost in this uncertain world, as you embrace the cold porcelain where you had just hurled. Another night of regret to make up for the pain, that never seems to end as its pumped through your worthless veins. Time to sleep away the day in the hopes of worthwhile dream, that can take me away from reality and a world that makes me scream.
Feb 2012 · 684
Restless Night (12/05/08)
Daniel Regan Feb 2012
A simple truth haunts me every night. The thought of what i am and what i should be fight for control of my every thought, smell and sight. Im stuck in a realm of insecurity and doubt, clouded by the notion that i should stand out. Out amongst these people as a leader and a free thinker, a poet, and a key speaker. For i see my life as incomplete. I've been robed of my dreams and stuck in this place of unforeseen things to be. My purgatory is the action of my inaction. Its the reaction of my inaction. A fraction of my life, plagued by distractions and the misconception that i was in the clear. The clear of my future, when really i was no where near. So my once dear future vanished like those who i once held so near. Those whom i shared many tears and my most humbling fears. So with an unforeseen future in front and a shattered past in back, i keep on moving forward and i keep on the attack. Because i know nothing else but to keep on the move, to stay in the grove, and forget all the rules. Because everything i once knew is lost to that which is my reality. The reality in that the person i once was and the person i should be, will never be born from what is me!
Feb 2012 · 469
They Say... (12/15/08)
Daniel Regan Feb 2012
Stay positive they say, when all else is lost. Never look back, no matter the cost. Keep your head straight, and continue the fight. Never give in, and keep your goals in sight. Take one step at a time, and never say die. Always show love, and always ask why. Remember those before you, and beware of those to come. Never show fear, and always have fun. Wake with the early birds, and sleep with the sun. Keep your enemies close, and be ready to run. Love with all your soul, even when it hurts. Give everyone a smile, and don't be afraid to flirt. Study hard every night, and let loose when you can. Give help to the needy, and your fellow man. Stand for what you believe in, but compromise if need be. Show everyone your worth, even if they cannot see. Defy all the odds, and be someone's inspiration. See promise in everyone, and never loose your concentration! Life is full of lessons, some short and some long. But one lesson remains certain, life will always go on.
Feb 2012 · 406
Who Are You (01/23/09)
Daniel Regan Feb 2012
Describe yourself in one simple line. Forget all the poetry, rhythm, or rhyme. Focus on what you feel, and not what they see. Forget everyones looking, forget even me. Don't worry about your image, your facade or that mask. Forget where you're going, where you've been and everything past. Describe yourself as if no one was there. Don't try to get around it or try to be fair. Say what you feel and not what you see. Focus on the hard truths, and not what they appear to be. Be honest with yourself, and say how you feel. Look deep in your soul, and find what is real. Because the day will come, when you'll have to face yourself. Be it before your family, or when no longer in good health. Are you happy with you, or what you appear to be? Or are you sad by your reflection, and what it is you see. Because you are the critic, there is no one harder. Time to face your demons, and stop running farther. Farther from the truth, farther from what's there. No one said this was easy, or going to be fair. So stop and take a moment, a moment for you. And look deep inside, it something you need to do. Reality is knocking, its finally here. So gather up your courage, and forget all your fear. One simple glance, thats all it will take. Because you will finally realize, you need a change for your own sake.
Feb 2012 · 599
Conflicting (02/08/09)
Daniel Regan Feb 2012
I wake up every morning, wishing you were here. But every time I'm with you, you always feel too near. I love the funny jokes we have, between the two of us. But every time i hear your laugh, my head is going to bust. I love it when you dress up, and look so beautiful for me. But when i see you in the morning, i tend to let you be. I find myself at war, with everything you do. Im always contradicting myself, whenever I'm with you. Your voice is so annoying, whenever you start to sing. But i love it when you scream my name, i love to hear it ring. I love everything about you, from your head down to your toes. I love looking in your eyes, and i love your little nose. But i can't stand your smile, or the way you do your hair. Or whatever you call your style, they're things i just can't bare. I hate the way your parents are, and i think your church is wack. Your family is always so cold, there is many things they lack. I love that you're religious, and how you speak your mind. Unfortunately you tend to be drowned out, by whatever is on mine. I wish i didn't feel this way, and loved you through and through. But there's little things that **** me off, and there's nothing i can do. I wish that i could love you, with everything i am. But we've hurt each other in the past, and I'm not sure that i can. But there's something about you, and something in my soul. That keeps you always on my mind, and so i can't let you go. So I'll go to bed tonight, and have sweet dreams of you. And I'll wake up in the morning, wishing they were true.
Feb 2012 · 695
One Sad Day (02/11/09)
Daniel Regan Feb 2012
There's a song in my head thats been in there for days. It wages war on my every though and causes me rage. Its the song of the love birds, and the words of the love struck, the melody that gives you butterflies, but their songs are simply all lies. Lies drowned out by the world and their relentless sorrows. Sorrows that plague the world and make you hate tomorrow. Its the theme of the heartless, soulless and loveless. The ones who know no warmth, and make me regret saying this. I regret to inform you that love is just a lie, though up by hollywood who doesn't tell the other side. The side of those who have loved and lost it all. All their hope and their fire, lost their passion and desire. The desire to love and be loved until the very end. All hope lost, like a gust of summer wind. For you see you can not win, in this epic game of love. Every thing's against you, its impossible to rise above. Above all the hate and above all the sorrow. So just take off running, cuz you wont feel this tomorrow. So think of love as simply empty cargo, not meant to be given, received or borrowed. Because love is impossible to find, impossible to get, and impossible to show. Just remember that, the next time you feel low. And when you're down there, and cannot climb out. Just remember, that love isn't what it's all about. So forget all the hallmark cards, candies and flowers. Love isn't for everyone, its meant for the cowards. Those who can't make it through life, and need someone there. They tend to see life, as not always fair. But when is life fair, when love isn't real. So take it from me, and just forget what you feel.
Feb 2012 · 645
Babe, I Miss You (02/23/09)
Daniel Regan Feb 2012
Babe i miss you. Like the night misses the day, like a swing misses its sway, like a flower needs the suns rays. I miss you babe, and I'm not afraid to say, that my head is finally straight. And I'm sorry i made you wait, but i know its only fate, that we be together once more. And i know we're both sore, from the games we both have played. But Im done trying to ignore what is now behind closed doors. But Im finally awake, and I've taken too much time, and i think its time we find, that fire that was once mine and yours, yours and thees, we need not be, apart for you see, me and you, you and me, we are simply meant to be. Free to be, you and me, together and once again we. Can't you see? Im putting it all on my sleeves. No smoke, no mirrors. Just me being real, telling you how i feel. Hoping that you'll take me back. Back into your life, back into your arms, back into your trust. Im trying not to rush, but enough is enough. Im tired of staying hushed. I just want to scream, scream until my lungs bust...!!!!I MISS YOU!!!!...but i know its not enough. Because I've been to rough with your heart, and your heard may be too tough for all my words to penetrate. And i know Im saying this late, but Im going to say this...I miss your simply bliss, and I wish with all my heart, that you hear my plea and find your way, find your way back to me. I Miss you Babe.
Feb 2012 · 764
Scratch That (02/28/09)
Daniel Regan Feb 2012
My mind is a blank, and i cant find the words to write. Scratch that, i cant find the right words to type. Scratch that, Im just going to try and keep this light. Scratch that, Im just going to say what's right. Scratch that, i have a feeling Im going to be here all night. So lets just try this again, from the top they say. Just let my hands type, let them go on their way, way, way, way....DAM IT!! Im stuck on way. Just start typing something. Down by the bay, where the buffalo roam, down to my home, i dare not go. Just go, just go. Take off from here. Let the words flow, let this writers block disappear. I CANT!! Im forever stuck, with my gears caught in this muck. The muck of what to write. Cuz what i want to write, i cant seem to keep right in my head. Its impossible to focus, i cant remember what i said. Something about love, or something about hate. Scratch that, it was something about fate. See what i mean, this game isn't easy. I can always right about that, or reeces pieces. Scratch that, Im not talking about that. This is a poem, i need to bring it back. Back to my topic, scratch that. Back to my focus, scratch that. Back to....scratch that. Im just going to leave it at that.
Feb 2012 · 489
Holding On (03/11/09)
Daniel Regan Feb 2012
Its hard to find the right words to say. When your head is a mess, and you're always this way. When you're torn for the present, and ripped by the past. When your days are nights, and your nights never last as long as you hope, and as long as you need. When you feel like a failure, and can never succeed. Indeed you are stuck, and down on your luck. But don't be reluctant to try and find your way. Look to the future, look to a new day. Look towards the light, adn just start walking. Its time to stand up, and to quite all that sulking. Take one step at a time, and just keep going straight. Dont wait for the world to catch you in stride. Keep it in your mind, that you're one of a kind. So here it is, the big FINALY. The part where i give you wisdom, and act all happy. But the truth of the matter, is its going to be tough. Its going to be rough, and every step that you take, wont feel like enough. So **** it all up, and get ready to fight. Keep your goals in site, and use all of your might. Cuz the road is quite dangeous, and will kick you in the ***. You might even question yourself, are you up for the task? So take one, long deep breath. Take two if you need. **** out all your fears, and focus on success. And pray to god, your situation doesn't regress.
Feb 2012 · 507
Obvious (03/12/09)
Daniel Regan Feb 2012
There is a truth to your lies,
behind those walls i see your eyes,
your eyes are wide open,
as well as are mine.

I can tell what's on your mind,
for once in my life I'm not so blind,
but i choose to keep away,
forever scared of yesterday.

It holds me to truth,
and keeps me in check,
never again will i feel that regret,
regret that caused me so much pain,

but the pain has left,
and has been replaced,
with another soul eating emotion,
that can be seen on my face,

but no one can see it,
not even you,
im like a brick of ice,
i always play it cool,

But forever ill stay,
behind these four walls,
with all eye on me,
and me standing tall,

but you make me feel small,
like im 3 feet tall,
me you could never see,
always over looking me,

but we play our parts,
in our three ring circus lives,
battling with lions, tigers and bears,
oh my,

and we keep on our mask,
and we keep on the paint,
acting like clowns,
never revieling what we feel deep down,

and we smile and wait,
with short words,
and laughs that are fake,
and hoping the other will break,

because then the day,
when one of us does,
the other will be there,
to help us rise above,

and then...maybe then,
the walls will come down,
and i will be close enough,
to hear your heart pound,

but that will take time,
so here ill sit and wait,
hoping and pray,
and leaving it up to fate.
Feb 2012 · 448
It's... (03/21/09)
Daniel Regan Feb 2012
its you,
that makes my heart race,
that makes my face blush,
that makes my speech rushed,

its me,
that always makes things worse,
that feels like he's always cursed,
that feels his heart about to burst,

its they,
that say its not meant to be,
that cannot see us as we,
that doesn't understand me,

its we,
that know true love,
that can rise above it all,
that has fallen but will stand up tall,

it is forever,
that we will be,
side by side,
for eternity.
Feb 2012 · 799
Separation (03/29/09)
Daniel Regan Feb 2012
I want you to live free, in a world free of me. I want you to forget my face, forget about the place we met, forget about my family, siblings and pets. I want you to forget about me, forget about the thought of us as we. I need you to cut the chain, that forever haunts us of our pain. We need to stop this game we play, always pretending to be ok, but hide what we really want to say. You need to think of me as gone, and hope to never see me again. Then, with a little help from god, maybe we can fall back in love. But until that day, you need to stay, far, far, far away. Because once i am erased from your mind, you will find time to be, someone you have never seen. Time may make the heart grow fonder, but distance will make our bond grow stronger. But in order for our hearts to grow, you simple must walk the distance, and go. The distance that neither of us know, the distance that i may one day forgo. So get away and stay away. This is hard for me to say. But harsh is what i need be, if i wish us to someday see, a morning light through the same glass. A sunset over the hill tops grass. A night that turns into day, and a breakfast in the door county bay. I wish for us to someday be, forever linked for eternity. But in order for this to be real, i will throw out how i feel. Become numb to the love i have for you, and pray to god im not being a fool. But with this goodbye i hope and pray, i see your face another day. and i hope you save your heart for me, because here i will stay, forever yours, until eternity.
Feb 2012 · 2.1k
Call me an Ass (03/31/09)
Daniel Regan Feb 2012
If nice guys finish last, then call me an *******. Im done being the nice guy, im done playing that role. Because society doesnt care if you can save the human race. All they seem to care about is stuffing their own face. With fast food, and expensive gifts, with cool gadgets and lavish trips. This world is selfish and does not care for you, so you might as well loose the nice guy attitude. Your friends may say they like your nice guy ways. But lets be honest, love and affection cant get you recognition and fame. Life is cold, life is bleak. Like having no paddles going up a muddy creak. Love is blind, so you will never find, that special someone, that someone to call mine. So why be nice, when no one cares. Why be nice, when life isnt fair. Why be nice, when no one sees you. Why be nice, when no one cares what you do. So call me and *******, call me a ****, call me a huge, monsterous *****. But dont call me the nice guy, you'll only make me sick. So here's some advice, if you want to get ahead in life. Forget about fairytale endings, forget about the lavish white weddings, forget about being nice and allways doing right. Cuz life ***** and blows, like a five dollar *****. So get use to those sores, cuz thats what lifes for. ******* you from behind, when you've been nothing but kind. Giving someone your heart, and getting nothing from start. Working your *** off for that spot, only to loose what you got. So **** it all, and **** my life. Get use to these phrases and get use your strifes. And get use to never being right. Cuz when life kicks in, you've already lost the fight!
Daniel Regan Feb 2012
I've hit that wall, I've lost my stride. I cannot breath, ive lost my mind. My heart starts to hurt, and my pulse starts to race. My mind draws a blank, i turn red in the face. I close my eyes, but you're still there, not the image of you, but what we couldn't share. I hit the wall, and slam my fists, the pain keeps me focused, i can't feel my wrists. You've denied me my right, a right to normal life. You think you've done nothing, but you know not of my strife. My insatiable thirst, that cannot be quenched. You've caused me great pain, and you don't have the sense. The common sense to see what you've done, you're too caught up with life, but you know not of the knife. That sits in my back and digs deeper everyday, it causes me pain in so many different ways. You've done this to me, and i can never be fine. I can show you the scars, but you're too dumb to sympathize. So i sit here in pain, shaking from rage. Not wanting this poem to end, for fear of my home page. My home page is a reminder, of where I have failed. It's a reminder of my sickness, and the scars of the nails. The nails of your beliefs that were drilled into me, that haunt me to this day, and will not leave me be. For it was these beliefs that caused me great pain, that could not let me continue and have maid me insane. It is because of your docility that i could not advance, with me you never did take one single chance. You were always just there, never wanting anything more, always happy with me always opening that door. Until the day that i closed that door. You never took any risks, i couldn't take it anymore. i was sick of giving it all, and getting nothing in return. I was sick of always taking that step, and never getting a turn. But I was the one hurt in the end, stuck with my life broken, and unable to mend. Not because you left....No, thats not why at all. Broken because forever i will fall, into this never ending cycle of being the nice guy. Never acting out or letting my emotions fly. So thank you so much, for making me this way. But with this thank you, i have one more thing to say. ******* i say, with my emotions set free. Im done faking a smile, its time that you see. You should see all these scars, and this sickness that plagues me. It's the price that i pay, for being the guy. One helping of insanity, with mental problems on the side. So how about this, to make everything fair. When you get a white envelope, with a large bill in there. Take a look at it, it will most likely be from me, along with the money i owe from my insanity. So just take care of my therapy and we'll call this fair. And hopefully someday your face will be something i can bare.
Feb 2012 · 490
Something New (04/29/09)
Daniel Regan Feb 2012
It is something new, like a breath of fresh air, i didnt know if it could last, but i dont really care. i wanted something new, and then you happened to me, you walked into my life, like it was simple ment to be. You entered my life and never looked back, youve changed my world, and you always make me laugh. What is this thing, we have between us two? You always make me smile, whenever i see you. I cant be away from you, for more then a single day. Otherwise id start missing you, and feel like im wasting away. You seem to be my sunshine, my light in the dark. i loved spending time with, like taking walks in the park. I love holding you in my arms, because you fit so well. i love kissing you each day, like you really couldnt tell! I love your crazy family, they are all so much fun. Except for yours pshyco dad, and when he pulls out that **** gun. What can i say, youve changed me in a way. I look at my life differently, and how i spend my days. I wake up every morning, wishing you were there. And close my eyes each night, knowing no one else compares. Id say my lifes is blessed, and i thank god for you each day. I may not be fond of religon, but im religious in my own ways. im happier then ive ever been, and i dont care what they all say. I didnt listen to them to begin with, be it as it may. So here i am, and here i stand, bearing my soul, holding my heart in my hands. Not caring about the future or looking at the past. Only focusing on us now, and knowing this thing will last. Im scared to even think it, but i think it just may be. Could it be possible, am i in L......O......V......E??
Feb 2012 · 542
Hide (09/02/09)
Daniel Regan Feb 2012
Im not who you thought i am, im not who you think, even though i look the same, evertime you blink. My name is the same, but ive changed once more, become who you want me to be, but different to the core. You may look twice, and see the same guy, but im truely not the same, what you see is a lie. Im not the person, who you thought you met. im someone completely differnent, and its something i regret. I wish that i could show you, who i truely am, but the really me isnt pretty, and isnt worth a dam. My true colors always fade, compared to yours that shine, and i feel myself not worthy, with every passing line. I dont deserve to have you, now or at any time, im sick to my stomach, as i continue with these rhymes. Becasue i know ill never tell you, and ill never let you in, ill keep my real self locked up, hiding behind a fake grin. Ill keep up this grin, and keep up my lie, ill pretend to be perfect, untill the day that i die. So what do i do, and how can i be free. I cant be honest with you, i cant show you the real me. The real me would loose you, and thats hard for me to bare. But keeping you is selfish, especially when you're unaware. Unaware of the truth, and unaware of the true me. Unaware of my true colors, the ones you will never see. So do i pretend to be perfect, or do i give myself up today? Do i risk making you hate me, and having you go away? This is eating away at my soul, and will be keeping me up all night. As i battle with my deamons, and contumplate what is wrong and right.
Feb 2012 · 431
Let Me (08/29/09)
Daniel Regan Feb 2012
Let me be your everything,
the one that gives your heart wings,
the one that makes you want to dance and sing,
the one who makes you smile when your phone rings,

Let me be the one to show you beauty,
Let me be the one to show you love,
Let me give you the world,
and all the stars above,

I will be by your side,
when all you have is nothing,
and when nothing is everything you need,
let me be your everything,

Let me hold you when you cry,
and when life doesnt seem fair,
i will never let you lie alone,
i will be the one who is always there,

So let me be your everything,
every second of every day,
Let me be your entire world,
in every single way
Feb 2012 · 418
For Her (Summer '09)
Daniel Regan Feb 2012
Its as simple as a smile, or a passing glance. Its as simple as a goofy laugh, that makes you take that chance. Its as simple as a phone call, in the middle of the night. Even if you dont remember what you said, by the break of mornings light. Its as simple as a car ride, that seems to go no where. These simple little things tell you, that you've found someone rare. Someone who is perfect, in there own sort of way. Someone who can make you smile, no matter how bad your day. Someone who makes you nervous, every time they call, but someone you feel comfortable with, even when you fall. Its this person in your life, that gets you up each day. Its the same person that gives you butterflies, no matter what they say. Its this person that makes you leave flowers, when they are at work. The same person you write silly letter too, and hope you get at least a smirk. She's the one that makes you realize, how good life can really be. And you quietly hope to yourself, thats how she feels about me.
Feb 2012 · 559
Scared (09/10/09)
Daniel Regan Feb 2012
Im everything im not. Im everything you see. Ive become someone i told myself, id probably never be. ive become conflicted inside, by who i was and who is me. You have me questioning everything i am. And everything i can be. I always held myself back. Never giving more then it took. Making things simply work, even when thats not how it looked. I always hid behind a mask, and played them for the fool. Always careful about what id say, always keeping my cool. I never gave more then i need to, and it always came at a price. I always waited for them to make the move, i never rolled the dice. I never took a chance, or let it all hang out. Everything i did was calculated, never showing any doubt. This is how it was, and how i wanted it to be. It kept me from getting hurt, it kept me from really seeing!! So i kept up this game, and never let them win. Never let them get the upper hand, and thats how its always been. Because i never wanted to have, my heart ripped in two. So i never let anyone know, what i really felt was true. I never told them how i felt, or anything inside. I never let them understand, and always told the lie. Because pain is worse then guilt, and its something i could bare. So i put up with it my whole life, and always played the game scared. And scared is how i feel, now that im with you. but Im someone completely different, you've made me into someone new. I dont want to play those games, and im done being scared. Im done hiding behind those masks, im done not showing i care. You've done this to me. Made me a better man. Brought everything i knew i could be, out in the open. You make me want to love, like there is no one else. YOu make me want to speak, when my voice has escaped itself. YOu make me want to sing, when my voice has no tune. You make the impossible possible, like snow in the month of june. You make my mornings full of hope, and give my nights reasons for dreams. YOu make my worries go away, and make my insecurities nothing it seems. THe new me is sick of being scared, and sick of the old me. and the new me wants to say those 3 little words, instead of 143. But i hold my tongue and bit my lip, always afraid, that ill let it slip. holding it back, waiting for the day, i can finally tell you what my heart has always wanted to say. like how ill always be there for you, and never make you cry. Ill be your everything, ill be you stars in the night sky. Ill be your remedy, when nothing else feels right. Ill rock you to sleep, when the sun turns to night. Ill show you love, when the world shows none, ill be your everything, when you feel like there is no one. I want to show you, the love you should be shown. I want to give you, the love you've never know. The kind that you dream about, and pray to god you find. The kind you see in movies, the kind of love thats blind. But i shut my mouth, and say even less. Afraid to move to fast, and making things a mess. So instead ill tell you ur amazing, and how i miss you so. Hoping to see you soon, and see your beautiful glow. And you'll say sweet dreams, and ill answer 'of you,' and know that when i close my eyes, what i said was true. And pray that in the morning, you get my 143. And maybe silently hope to myself, that you send one back to me!
Feb 2012 · 738
Fighting Through (03/31/10)
Daniel Regan Feb 2012
It's hard to watch your world sink, right before your eyes. To watch everything you worked for vanish, like the sun from the evening sky. It's hard to watch your dream fall through, and keep yourself together. It's hard to get through the rain, when you can't see past the weather. It hurts to feel your world unravel, like a ball of yarn or string. It's hard to humm the right tune, when you've forgotten how to sing. You swim against the current, and pray to god that you will survive. Only to find yourself question your motives, and why you prayed to be alive. You walk in circles everyday, following the path you did before. Working towards a better life, but what is it all for? To strive and fail, to stand and fall. To fight the wind and stand up tall. To find yourself on the grond once more. Your height only measuring how far you've soared. Straight to the ground, where you've been many times before. Holding your head, but only your pride is sore. So you ignore the pain, with all your might. Your put on a smile, and get back in the fight. The fight for your sanity, the fight to keep you sain. The fight to keep depression out of your veins. The fight for your happiness, the fight to fall in love. The fight that keeps you hopefully, no matter where you're shoved. Because at the end of the day, or the end of your life. When your heart cannot carry on, or hand the strife. You'll look up to god and say with your last fighting breath. I know happiness, I know love, and now I know death. Because the fight is over, and your out of the game. No score board to show you who's the winner in lifes punishing game. Because the end prize isn't money, cars, or fame. But whether you enjoyed life and danced in the rain. Whether you laughed with friends, and love with all your heart. Whether you've showed compassion, and weren't afraid to let out a little ****. Whether you took chances, and had a few to drink. Whether you've partied to the break of dawn, even if you woke up next to the sink. Because when it comes down to it, we're all scared inside. But it's how we control our fear that makes us invincible, even when our whole world has crumbled around or feet and died.
Feb 2012 · 1.3k
How Dare You (09/21/10)
Daniel Regan Feb 2012
How dare you! Call me 'friend' with no intent of a relation.
How dare you! Ask for generosity without any hesitation.
How dare you! Ask more of a me then ive asked of you.
How dare you! Think of me as part of your 'old crew.'
How dare you! Come to me, as if there is nothing to forgive.
How dare you! Pretend there is nothing I havent relived.
How dare you! Shut out the world, and those who really care.
How dare you! Only show your face for those in despair.
How dare you! Talk to me without a passing glance.
How dare you! Then go back to your 'avoid me dance.'
How dare you! Not speak a word to me, and hide behind your wall.
How dare you! Even ask me at all.....
Daniel Regan Feb 2012
Put a gun to my head, go ahead and pull the trigger. Lifes to short to focus on forever. I find myself questioning everything in my core. Only to be brought back to earth, regret pressent ever more. Following ever little shadows down every single corridor. Avoiding those ghosts, like a movie full of horror. Their faces ever present, in my book filled with lives. Defining themselves by a bunch of silly headlines. Where has my character been and gone, to have made me become this cold. Funny how a few pictures can begin to make you unfold. So you play cat and mouse, with those who got away. Filling your half empty cup with those you met today. Lighting a match in places where ash has begun to pile. Throwing sticks at your past and waiting patiently for awhile. But the past has done just that; left you in its wake. So you drop your board; this is as far as the ride will take. Looking at your watch and wondering where the time has gone. Only realizing your watch is in the entirely wrong time zone. And now your jusy behind on the wishes of today. To busy focusing on the memories that have left and gone away. So you take the next step to getting over this ****. And you write a few words and throw them in a lump. Making sentence begin to ryhme and words begin to sway. Giving credit to the rappers who have paved your lyrical way. And your mind begins to run with voices of today, only hearing the next line and what it is you want to say. So you bleed for your words and make then all come to life. Every cut you have for them, is a lifetime full of strife. So you take a single memory and hold it to the light. And your rip it in half and hold back your feelings with all your might. For your words are all you have in this never ending game. Of photo albums and picture frames, lost numbers and days filled with shame. Shame for those you  meant to call, and still wish it to this day. But understand that god has come and had the final say. So you look at those you've lost, and those you can still save. And wonder if those memories should be left in their own grave. And fight back the feeling of betrayal and hate. And remind yourself each day that it will never be too late. To you show those whom you have lost that there is still something there. And you honor those who are gone, with love and an evening prayer.... Life is to short to focus on forever. But never is life to short, to write out something clever. To stir the emotion of human intent, and show those who matter you are done being silent.
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