I miss getting high with my friends,
and just people-watching.

I think they call it suicide
When you do it knowing you're going to die
But does it count
If you have already killed my insides?

How can I believe
by light of stars,
the things you speak?
I can see it in your eyes
the wine
makes inhibitions weak.

In this light
I'm special.
But this eve I know
that tomorrow
I'll be hidden;
nothing will show.

The faith you see,
the trust you feel
won't hang upon the wall.
By sobriety of sunlight
you'll have
no need to call.

Intoxicate my brain.
But fire in my soul,
is not as high.
When no one
tends the glow
the embers die.

You, master
teach me
what forgetting is.
My back is turned.
I have no need
and nothing to give.

I'd love to tell you
That when you
Light up
My phone's screen

I smile

And smile.

That when
You message me first
It makes me feel so special
Like you want to speak to me

That hugging you
When we see each other
Makes my heart flutter

That loving you
Is so much more
Than just a longing

Because I think you are The One

But I can't.

Because then you'd know.

Repulsive and cruel,
Laying with an arm round me
An arm that is literally spitting
False phrases one moment
as though I'm the king of the jews.

god is dead.
and my entire life you
will always be a piece of
the shattered boy

the one who used to daydream
of stories only told by hopeless cries.​
problem is you cannot hear the weeping
in their words that stream out their fragile hands.

Now spitting ugly and hurtful language,
That just tears me up,
And once you step out the doorway,
The saline filled liquid starts.

I'm trying to distance myself,
But how do I manage that?
How many more lies can you narrate
while you keep my loving heart?

Do you really think I don't recognize
and your love will bring me anything?​
After all I have suffered.​
How many more painful days

I simply wanted your dreams forever
but apparently my life isn't anything
certainly unworthy of admiration,
or unconditional love.

Ah poor thing
all scratched up
twisted and torn
held in rough hands
I doubt you can be repaired
I could try
for what its worth
but
those scars are forever
if it helps
they make you look
distinguished.

I miss getting up early for the practice of Cloquet Lumberjacks.
Helmets and shorts with no contact.
Airs fresh and chill got me fired up.
Lets go before season slips with no love.
The joy of two a days. Game days perfect each Friday.
Ready to hit at practice and ready to beat the team.
Win or lose does not matter I have my pride and a earned jeresey.
This Is Fall, We will kick off in time for 3rd quarter for us to have the ball. I a LumberJack I played For Cloquet and It's the beginning of Fall.
Small moments change a lot and brings the memories of comfort. I love the chills and gold colors.