Eating my meal at the usual fast food spot,
Public intimacy at the counter,
That love bird love,

Seeing person after person walk in,
So many memories in this very seat,
From back then,

Some moved on, some still in touch,
Those days when adrenalin was frequent,
The blood, my heart, would rush,

I still remember sitting on that hill,
In isolation staring out,
Into the stars and clouds,
Wondering what life's about,

This poem, written on a fast food napkin,
Concentration clouded,
By the noise of laughter and a screaming kid tantrum

The skate home that night,
My jacket shielded the cold from my neck,
It was 1 o'clock, no people, no cars in sight,
Except,

That one police car flying by,
Colors of blue and red,
With it sirens ringing,
Past my head.

Perhaps the reason I hate myself so much,
                        
                                                                 is not because I am a horrible person..

                        but because I have given my love to everyone else

                                                                                                                     and left none for myself..

You can only keep a cracked mirror so long
                                                                                 until you grow tired or it's imperfections.



I guess you could say the same thing about me

I've been sitting here,
for what feels like days,
but only a few hours,
have wasted away.

The doctors said,
you would be okay,
but that doesn't mean ****,
we're back here again.

I never thought I,
would get that call in the night,
saying you were here,
fighting for your life.

But I knew you weren't,
fighting at all,
because I think this is,
our third trip this fall.

I don't want to see,
you have to leave,
but it's best for you,
and for your family.

I'll visit everyday,
until you come home,
and when you do,
it'll be forever, I hope.

Oh how I wish,
you'd rise from that bed,
and say everything,
felt happy in your head.

But since that is not,
the case here tonight,
I'll sit by this bed,
and hold your hand tight.

Do you remember when we were young?
we didn't listen,
we never held our tongue,
now those times are old,
and these days are dark,
as dark as a coal miners lung,  

Through thick and thin,
we found our way,
whether it be grim,  
or just the darkening grey,
on those dim, confusing days,

We lay'd in the park,
i gazed upon the stars,
you rolled and i remember every time the lighter would spark,
everyone would share the cask,
of cheap wine,
and speak about the past
just to get the troubles out of our mind,

Those times are more valuable than anything locked in a treasury,
lost in time,
but never lost in my mind,
forever in my memory.