i wish to be apart of your universe
not the whole of it
i wish to be a passing thought
even if it's just for a little bit
i don't want your world to revolve around me
i'm content to be a star
a name you think of within your day
even when i'm far
as long as i'm apart of your memories
it will be all be fine to me
and as long as when recollecting
my face is one you'll see
even long after, i'm no longer here
i hope my voice is something you'll hear
i hope i'm not this passing voice
a distant call or a fleeting choice
i don't want want to be a shadow within your mind
i want to be vivd as you are in mine
i'm not asking your world or even your love
i'm asking if my presence will be enough

will you remember me?

tell me something sweet to hear
play that music that drowns your fear
play that jazz that swings and slides
and the rock n' roll that never dies

we can listen to the classic songs
by the Beatles and Elton John
just pick your poison and album too
whatever it is I'm down to do

no matter the soundtrack, I want you here
I'll be singing the words if it keeps you near
so roll down the window and let down your hair
let's never forget these nights we share

oh look
how cute
you actually think that people like you
that people want to spend time with you

do you really think you're that special?
you can't possibly be serious
nobody likes you
you spend your days whining and feeling sorry for yourself
who would want to be around that?

you're ugly
and alone

maybe if you work at it
try to hide the hideous scars

maybe if you change yourself
become someone who's more fun  

maybe if you never say no
maybe if you give them everything
you can't be disappointed
if you don't expect anything

than maybe
juuuust maybe
but i don't know
perhaps some people are not meant to be loved
or even liked
and you are one of those lucky few

but keep playing at it ***
it's sure entertaining to watch

You’re almost there
You’re almost pretty enough
Almost funny enough
Almost lovable enough
But
Not quite
Keep working
Keep selling your soul
Keep running till you can’t stand
And maybe
Just maybe
You’ll get there

Almost

A friend asked me
how to be a writer.
I wanted to say,
lock yourself in a room,
scream until you have
a poem and no voice.
Open your veins and bleed
until you know that your bones
are pure words and sorrow.
Act as if you slit your own throat
and all you can bleed
are your own regrets
and all of the darkness
you boxed up for inspiration.
Write your mom a letter,
tell her you're leaving
and you won't be back for awhile
Because being a writer is traveling
through all seven layers of Hell
and denying anything is wrong.
Forget loving yourself
when all you have is a pen and paper
fused to your wrist
and Jesus is tapping at your skull
saying turn back now.
Warn the neighbors that if they smell burning
It's just your soul
clawing at the front door trying to get in.
Learn how to be alone.
Learn how to lose everything you have
in order to feel release,
learn how to only feel deceased
from now on.
A friend asked me
how to be a writer.
All I said was
don't

two people
sit across from each other
they act like they're in love
but they are not in love
two children
who try to be adults
attempt to listen
but they're not listening
two lovers
struggling to live
take it one day at a time
one son
one mother
try to understand
but ignorance is not given
to those who won't understand
one dreamer
young and naïve
she's gonna change the world  
she just doesn't know it yet
    the man in the corner
    is sipping his coffee
    but he doesn't like it
    he prefers tea
        the woman over there
        is writing a novel
        she's been writing
        for three weeks
            the elderly woman
            is always alone
            almost as though
            she's waiting for another
               and the waitress
               is just trying pay
               the bills that are due
               the next day

every life is a movie
and everyone's got their struggles

but it's just another day
at the Blueside Society Cafe