Did I tell you?


I’m kind of quiet… no, really, I am. You should see me around people I don’t know…. Ha, yes, I know you don’t believe me… I talk my socks off around you. But, you’re different. You already know the contents of me… I mean, you may not have read every page in detail, but you get the rough draft. Not many people get that. Man, what a stuck up ***** they say… Miss goody two shoes is too good for us… Not all of us are rich like you they say. Oh, how I wish I was any of those things…it wouldn’t sting when they mistook me for anything but the plains, but instead they see skylines and frosted mountains. I am not as complex, I am not as breathtaking, I am not such a climb. It’s funny. i have it together - it appears from the outside looking in. On the inside, I’m so tired. I know you know this - but they don’t. They don’t see 14 hour days, 98 hour weeks, 5,784 hour years… of on the go, here you can have my time, my peace, my arms, my legs, my soul. They don’t see that. They don’t see me helping the family when they need food that week..and me not eating. They don’t see my sore back, my restless nights, or the loneliness that follows endless hours. I’m the one missing out… and they think I am better than them. If they only knew how much I wished I could be more like them and less like me…. how they are the morning skies… and I am merely a spectacle to their bold colors. They’re outspoken, care free, sociable, …extroverted. I wouldn’t dare say a word. I know even then they wouldn’t get me… not like you do. I just sit back - quietly, watching, listening, absorbing…an abused sponge from one too many passes on the burnt pan. Ha, that’s me. Still giving my all - in whatever pieces are left of me, trying to shine the world. Silly I am. I’m ready to get out of here… or find myself again, and stop smothering my heart. It’s an out of control fire and my day to day has become the dirt. I think if I exhale in a week you may just see smoke pouring from my lungs… I’m burning out. Can you tell?

You wanna know what hurts me more than crying myself to sleep
because I think I'll never be good enough?

Knowing that when he talks he says no one loves him, when I
have told him repeatedly that I do.

But maybe he's right -- after all, I'd consider myself no one, too.

I always want
what I haven’t got
and I want it now.
I’m not sure exactly what it is
that I’m looking for
but I know that I want it.

Everyday
I wish
I’d made less mistakes,
and everyday
I wish
that I was strong enough to make more,
but I’m too scared
of getting hurt again
to take a chance

Regrets
ride on a wave
of loneliness
and broken dreams,
and I’m holding out for an extraordinary love
to brighten this ordinary life.

I think too much
and need time to complicate things
so that I can make them impossible.
I long for love and affection
but worry that I’ve spent too long
trying to be invisible

Perhaps
I’m just the selfish son
of a selfish man
and maybe
I need a hobby
so that I can think less about me.

Sometimes
it all just seems
so pointless.
Feeling as temporary,
as summer holidays
and the promises in love’s sweet kiss.

We used to be able to cause forest fires.

Nights like this I want to lock myself in my room & lay in bed.
I want to listen to Daughter & Adele.
I want to watch Forrest Gump
Then lay in my bed and cry myself to sleep.
-K.L.