You’re striving to inspire

The world with what you do

In turn do not forget to let

The world inspire you

Here I am, looking up causes for headaches
at 1 am
when I know it will always come back to you.
My hands found the bottom of the ocean
as I cleaned old movie tickets out of my car today.
I can see your honesty from here.
It took my composure on its way out the door.
I’m not bitter anymore.
I’m just tired.
And I’m tired of being so tired.
I’m sorry you didn’t stay.
I’m sorry that I apologize
for all the times you didn’t.
I keep forgetting these things
are not one-sided,
and so,
I’m sorry I gave you everything
for nothing in return.
You tasted like love,
and I was parched.
Still am.

After years of fighting
I've learned to retreat
at the first sign of love.

If a tree is never given a chance to take root
it will not grow to bear poisonous fruit and if words never proclaim love,
then love can never be lost.

paint the world with colors make them nice and bright
add some decorations  to fill it with delight
make the world seem happy if only for awhile
fill it full of laughter make the whole world smile
make the world seem free.  joyful and so gay
paint the world with colors and make the dark side go away

I sit holding my aching head in calloused hands
experiencing ‘forlorn’
a worn soul aged beyond the calendar
dreary eyes look upon the state of humanity
irradiated babies trading rabies with deviants
live on pay per view
seeing the shape of famous faces
manipulated flesh blankly posed
only desperate oculars show the truth
darting frantically form mirror to mirror
attempting to validate existence through reflection
but not like the monks in Tibet
regret fills bent cheekbones
spackled with Botox and raspberry jam
thinning peak aligns with the occasional grey strand
and I sit wishing only to see people love themselves

I wanted to believe my love was enough
to rid you of your demons...
but even if it was a good idea,
it was never enough.

Let me
trace your collar bone with my finger,
and then let my finger move to your neck
and linger,
if only for a moment or two.

Let me
feel your shoulder blades
as they sharply cut out of your back,
and confess to me
all that you lack.

Let me
put my arms around you
one more time
and tell you that I love you.

Let me
take in
the colour of your skin.

Let me
count the days
I've wished for this.
I'd trade them all for you anyways.

Let me
kiss the scars,
wish them away on stars,
and send them out to sea.

Will you let me?

Sit up straight,
you're not pretty when you seem so relaxed.
Suicide season only comes once a year,
there's no other time for sadness here.

Never spend any money on food,
buy expensive clothes to please everyone else,
even though you live all of your life in solitude.

Spread yourself too thin by biting off more than you can chew,
keep reminding yourself that discipline is a virtue.

You're becoming so distant from the rest,
and the finish-line is blurry now.
You're not sure if they're overlapping you or you're the one that's winning,
yet you feel it is both somehow.

Make it through another Autumn and fall into Winter,
and maybe this time you can walk alone in the snow without leaving a footprint.
It will be beautiful,
it will be pure,
it will be worth it,
I am sure.

An abominable thought comes to mind:
You can crash your car violently enough so that it will ruin your entire face, it will be a blank slate, and then no one can judge you for getting plastic surgery.
You might actually look better that way.

A cognitive distortion
blown out of proportion,
it haunts my mind every day.