I think I came to vent
release some frustration
whilst trying to obtain a little elevation
**** this alliteration

In all honestly I was excited to type again
to feel so real and know this is me in all my glory.
Or at least me in a pretentious state of enlightenment
or finding divine twilight?

Funny you might not see it
but the points feeling true to you,
so I continue like any fool would do.
Truth is I love all of you
You release your angst with me.
There is true love in that
to believe and bestow
whether out of desperation, condemnation or agitation
**** that alliteration
in all honesty
I have no angst
I just love the beauty that is truth
that is expression
that is youth
that is human.

I felt I had you
Felt a connection that seemed greater than my arrogance.
Like you knew more of me than I told you.
So I held off, hoping it would fall together.
So I held off but it fell apart,
So rapidly I found myself trying to be numb.
Writing now because it failed.

Now a process that seems familiar.
Acting cool again.
Like it never mattered
Like it never hurt
Like I never liked you.
Like I never dreamt of trying to wife you.
Of course as fantasy.
It just seemed promising.

Acting cool got me in this.
I thought it could stay like this.
I wish I could stop acting
and be honest
and be earnest
and just be more, you know.

Goodbye.
I'm acting to cool to say this to you
I'll really miss you.

When last did you relish in your sadness.
I mean felt it, till it consumed you.
Used you, ruled you.
I mean you let it take control
and you bathed in it.

You realised it then
The uncontrollable wave of happiness that followed.
Like a flurry of antibodies fighting,
fighting your self inflicted illness.
Moved you from stillness.

People keep themselves distracted,
they never really fully indulge in either.
But what is life without indulgences.
What is life without the extremes.
What is life if its always imbetween. Life.

Get up, move
run, shout, shake.
Do something.

Happiness we need it,
we want it,
we deserve it.
You don't have to earn it
but you sure as hell got to fight for it.
Get up and write your name on it.
Own it, feel it in your bones
till you scream from it.
Get so happy you feel surreal from it.

But you got to get up.
Forget fear for a second and move for it.

I hope your sad when you reading this
because I was sad when I started writing this.
The feeling faded within seconds
as I move my melancholy
with a flick of the finger
and a click of this keyboard.

You got to fight for it
the fight it joyous
the win ecstatic
the struggle *******
but you gotta fight!

Hey! You up there listening?
Where am I going wrong
heck where am I going right?
Is asking for clarity vanity?
Leaps of faith and bold moves,
seem the clearest languages you understand.

But it's so easy to get lost inside you.
I feel I've fallen to often to dare leap again,
the bruises and marks never fading.
My hearts stopped aching although
it hasn't really fluttered all the same.
Have I been bold at all the wrong places or times?
So whats your idea?

Where's my inspiration
because it's never matched my perspiration.
Now they seem to fight one another,
I'm afraid they'll become long lost brothers.
So as the Mother and the father of all
can I get a reunion for the two.
A reason to feel anew.

I still believe in better
and we haven't spoke much
but you said that would be enough.

Have you ever
read, seen, listened to something,
something amazingly inspiring.
Something moving and touching,
so true and timeless... that it depressed you.

Like glimpsing at God and knowing your greatness
but fear grips you like a disease
because knowing you're better is not enough.
When truth dawns on you, your lies are lifted, your image pierced
you see yourself in all your magnificence.
Magnificently doubting yourself,
as if it were possible that you were anything else than power.
Than energy.
Than love.
Than destiny.

So you sit and feel bad, suffering
from perceived suffering.

I sit with you, not as your coach
your friend
or an unexpected prophet
but as someone sitting on the same boat.

Why do looks matter so much
If all that mattered was how I felt
it would be a simple, but
I check and check, looking for a reason to like you less
or to like you more.

I sit in limbo, not allowing myself to want more
but gradually gliding, I know this can't stay the same.
Limbo is limited. It's comfort restricted.
At some point somethings going to give
Either I realise its fine, your fine because I feel it
or it's not, you're not because they say it.

Another story is why we, I mean I care that they care
it remains none the less.
Would it affect us, could it be perfect,
they would accept it, they always do.
Do they even care or is it just me
Is this all just a lie, is it me, is it I.
Am I the one with the problem, is it only my consent that matters
my disapproval of you and of me.
My disapproval of me.