I am thankful death didn't let me in when I knocked at it's door, for I would have never met you.

I stopped wearing my seatbelt when speeding on the highway.
I walk into on coming traffic without bothering to look.
I text while I drive even if I struggle to stay between the lines.

I stopped caring about my safety.
I stopped caring about my life.
I suppose it's because I felt as if I didn't have anything to live for.

Suddenly, I was laying in your arms
Listening to music I've never heard before but instantly loved

Watching the flame of the candle flicker as the light danced across your cheek
Feeling your heartbeat become steady with every exhale

Now I wear my seatbelt.
I look both ways.
I put down my phone.

People think I am so strong.
"No matter what you go through",
They say,
"You continue to smile. You never give up!"

What they don't know, is that my 'strength' is a weakness.
My 'strength' is forgetting.

I unintentionally forget the words, the situations, the people that cause me pain.

I forget the good.
I forget the bad.
I forget everything.

That's how I cope.
That's how I move on.
That's how I'm still alive.

So no, I am not strong.

Im merely just doing what I have to
to survive.

We are the
       Awoken ones
       Our muse we hope to stumble on  
Lit only by
        Star-and-streetlight
        Somewhere between the dusk and dawn.

|b.g.|

I remember you when you were fifteen.
Holding your first cigarette between your manicured nails and smiling at the moon.
And through the years
I've seen you spend most of your time trying to escape your thoughts until six in the morning
With a book and a cat
The two things you called the greatest loves of your life.
I've seen you walk down flowery paths with the sun in your eyes
And through darkened forests, wondering desperately where the sun had gone.
I've heard you talk about death and God, your favourite whiskey and your dog. About the most shallow and mundane of events, and the deepest of philosophies.
And I see you now
In your plaid shirts and lace-up boots,
Trying to hide your face in your hair
Calmly turning away every chance at love you find
Searching desperately for distraction
In a gram of ******* and the pen and paper sitting by your bedside.