What I would give for your attention.
I would give a lot.
What I would give to not have to give
for me to be in your thoughts.

What I would give for your affection.
I've given it much thought.
I would return the pencil you gave me
which doesn't happen a lot.

What I would give for you to look my direction
Without you thinking someone else it hot.
What I would give for an emotional connection
that would occur more often than not.

            What I would give to know what to give
                                           because I know your love can't be bought.

It was autumn,
or at least I think it was.
The leaves were changing color
as were you.
It's funny, the way memories linger,
associate and disassociate with senses.
Smells;
the wild flowers.
Colors;
the deep reds of a changing season.
Sounds;
the crunching of dry leaves.
Touch;
your hands.

It may have been autumn,
or at least I think it was,
but I'll always remember you as the Autumn Girl.
Not my autumn girl,
I was merely a vessel
while you were a lamp to be lit.
I was in the dark
while you crossing great expenses of water.

That pond was so small
and you were so magnificently
immense.

"Why is this **** man single?"

Why indeed?
He's tall and lean, nice but never mean.
He rolls in dirt yet always seems clean
to me.

Why indeed?
With soft arms that should hold
Only a girl who is beautiful and bold
like me.

So Why indeed?
Hasn't he let me
Tell him how good he looks
in his recessive jeans?

Why indeed?
Isn't he
with me?

As I feel your touch against my skin it reminds me of a warm summer day
Your kisses cover my face and wipe away my tears
This moment will only last a while before I'm alone again...
But I intend to make it last
So we stay in bed all day saying we will never get up but eventually we do
And sometimes you return but wen you don't it gets lonely for a while until a new girl takes your place
At first cuddling is uncomfortable and awkward...you keep asking if this is comfortable and I lie and say yes because it takes a while but soon when you get in bed you slide right in and it's perfect the bed is no longer mine or hers it's us...until you leave again and the whole process starts all over again

I'm stuck in a routine of being happy and then dramatically depressed life is just one big lie and happiness is an allusion

But finally I find that one...the first time we cuddle it's perfect not awkward at all...it feels like you were meant to lay against me and for those years I'm truly happy
Aging fast but forever loving you

And then that day you lay me down in that coffin I am in my final bed alone forever nobody's touching me I lay in box underground my final resting place is empty just like my bed used to be before I met you

She sits in the corner admiring her own artwork
Slowly sipping on her tea while a cigarette lingers between her fingers unlit

She sits alone because she scared to share her self with anyone because she afriad that they will judge her for her mistakes and scars

She smokes because she wants to be skinny...it's working but she's killing her self in the process

And when you see this girl in the hallway you advert your eyes because the littlest contact could infect you with her imperfections and you hold your breath because she wears to much of her moms Perfume because it's the only thing she has left of her

She goes through school with make up smeared and smudged around her eyes
She looks like a zombie
teachers and kids don't interact with because she's different because they all feel bad that they used to bully her in middle school so no one even smiles at her

So when she goes home she decides today is the day I'm finally going to be free...she slowly gets in that tub and grabs that razor from the hiding place behind the soap and begins to cut

Crying with every cut but not tears of pain or death but tears of happiness because her alcoholic dad will finally notice her and kids at school will finally talk about her

When her dad finally stumbles in to take a drunk night **** he's sees her smiling for the first time in a while and then he notices the pool of blood

And he finally realizes all the signs of her depression...the kids at school next day chatter throughs text and Facebook but soon there just memories and distant rumors of why she did it  ranging from that she was crazy and evil to dumb and pregnant

But the truth is all she needed was a smile a simple hi how are you today...and she would have made it...she would still be here...she wouldn't be a sad distant memory but a happy alive little girl like she used to be before her dad began drinking because of her mothers death

For he's a jolly good fellow,

adorned in yellow and love,
it was hard to see his face through the smoke of a three blunt rotation, but I could feel his heart beating from across the trailer.

Worn out eighties music was the unofficial theme of the night and I think we lived up to the expectations Eddie Murphy set for his.

God forgives all trespasses,
but can I?
What do I have to forgive?

I'll not forgive you because you have nothing to apologize for.
You've been absent, but you have your reasons. You have your struggle and I have my love.
For you, for her, for my little sister, for everything around me.
I'll be there for you always, I'll spare my bitterness that has so often been flowing out of my pores. You don't deserve it and it won't help.
Help?
If you need some, just ask,
I'll not pass judgment for I wish none to be passed unto me, God knows one could judge me, least of all you, for the way I've treated you.

I'll be there for you,
although it's hard for me to look you in the eye.

I've been finding it terribly hard to write more than disillusioned rants and I've been finding it even more difficult to sit still with my thoughts.

I think about you a lot and it never fails to make me happy. Never. But I can't think about you all the time, and those moments late at night when I can't see the moon for the ceiling and I can't hear your voice for the time negative thoughts linger. And usually I let them vent, like a man professing his love by writing it in wet cement, I put thought to hand and pen to paper but now... I don't know.

I can write about you and God knows I do. God also knows I have not and hope not to run out of things to write about you. But there are other things in my mind that I wish to let out but I can't. There's a purple liquid slowly amassing to a sizeable resivior in the bottom left corner of my brain; I can feel it. It's where I store my doubts and anxieties but it's been dammed.

Purely amazing,
is how you, I define.
I hope so bad
you'll always be mine.

sitting behind you on the bed
naked and trying not to cry
tracing the muscles on your back
in hopes that you'll turn around
and look at me like I did when I was 20
but instead you get up and leave the room
your ratted boxers sitting tightly on your bulging skin
the tears flow freely then as i stare at my loose skin
and my calloused wrinkled hands
i'm not as beautiful as i once was
i'm not as patient or as kind
and i can't remember where i went wrong
where we went wrong
you can't stand looking at me
or being in the same room as me
my naked body doesn't send waves of excitement
it doesn't even make *** worth it
our kids don't know whether to
hope we'll make it work
or
wish we would leave each other and start fresh
you're the only one i ever let myself love
and if you left i'm not sure where i would go
but neither of us are happy
you're phone is full of other women
while mine
well
it's full of pictures of our kids being happy
and work needing me to hurry over
i was, and still am, always busy
and i never gave you the attention you wanted
i hated you for not loving me on my schedule
while i never thought of yours
and tonight was the night where i would try
to win you back
but it's too late
and you're out the door
watching sports on the computer
and i'm still naked in bed
crying while looking at the spot you once were
but i'm a grown woman now
so i pick myself up
and head over to the shower
hopefully
i will get some sleep for tomorrow
and tomorrow maybe
something will change

but nothing does