It is in the small hours like these
that I feel like destroying myself. You
all think you want to die, one of you calling out
to me in your pain, the third one of you in
few weeks. I beg and I plead and I shout and
when you cannot see me, after (or maybe
in the middle of) guiding you through this crisis, I
will break down and sob in terror and anger
at my helplessness. The glue I use to hold
you together is harvested directly from my own
disgustingly weak being. As I am trying to solidify
your world, I myself am dissolving. Please
don't die, none of you, your loss and my failure
would create a monster to devour and utterly
destroy what is left of me.

How will I get home from here?
Back to my sweet serenity I love so much
Where does this stop
Is there an end??
I feel like I’m falling down a spiraling shaft
Plummeting to my death in the rocks below
There’s no fix for this, at least it doesn’t feel like it…
I need a hand, a strong place to be
I need that glimmer of hope
And out of nowhere…. I see it
Tall, dark, and handsome just jumps in and saves me
The spinning subsides; I can see walls and clear shapes
He’s there and waiting- holding my hand till my head clears
The dust settles, he pulls me in
That warm embrace is all I feel
A soft landing I’m looking for
All the searching, all the heartache
It can all stop now; I’ve got my safe haven
My beach in a snowstorm, the moon in the dark night sky
My strong tower that keeps me going
Protecting me from the woes of evil
Pushing me forward- urging me to continue
I feel safe and happy
I can relax, all is well, the spinning is over
Forever more I can breathe

i may have moved on
from so many things
moved on from searching the phone early in the morning just to say good morning
moved on from waking up late just to say good night
moved on from thinking about puppies and mini coopers

but in soo many ways i have not
i still cant help my self and flinch at the site of you
i still cant control my self from looking at the direction from where your name was called
nor can i forget the times we spent in the places we went

we may not be what we used to be
we may not see each other in the same light
but you better not think that i have antipathy for you
because we both know im still your friend

My cause of death won't be
A physical ailment
I won't have a heart attack
I won't get heart disease
I won't be plagued with cancer
I won't die of old age

The cause of my death will be
The fact that I give all of myself
I stop whatever it is I'm doing
To help those around me
I listen to and advise my friends
I assist my family
While no one does that for me
I am left alone 99% of the time

The cause of my death will be
The fact that I must internalize
Whatever emotions I feel
Because nobody understands
How deeply they go
They judge me and find me crazy
There is no one out there
Who is as equally emotionally strung
I am alone

The cause of my death will be
The fact that when I get sick
Or when I am hospitalized
Like I was earlier this month
No one seems to think it's a big deal
My mother doesn't pay much mind
Not even the one I'm in love with
Said one word to me
I was alone

The cause of my death will be
The fact that I don't see hope for the future
I see ignorance all around me
I see laziness and poverty
I don't see any opportunities
For me to get out of this place
I am wandering aimlessly
And alone

The cause of my death will be
The fact that I hate myself
For allowing my heart and my soul
To break as they both have
I am hypersensitive
I feel abandoned
I am weak and fragile
Even in a crowd of people
I always feel alone

No, I will not die from something physical
I will die from a broken heart

I have learned,
people leave you
cold and broken
like my youth
and the only thing
that will ever stay
in my life
is that pen
and that pad of paper.

because my sanity
means more to me
than pleasing others
and my sanity
can only stay
if that pen and pad
are next to me

so take away my
so-called friends
lost inside
never empty pill bottles
and always empty
bottles of sorrow
and remind me why
this is what i cling to.

this is my far few in between
this is my light
at the end
of a never lit tunnel.
This is where misery
and it's company
join hands and dance
in the moonlit
darkness of the past.

The only thing
I've ever held close to me,
was anger and resentment
for those who i'm supposed to love
I find fatal flaw
where there isn't any
I look for wrong
in those who try to do me right
which is why I write.
because the only form
of therapy available to me
costs sixty bucks an hour
and that hour
holds more secrets
than my mind
will allow me to speak.
So I bleed ink
and hope that some sense
of relief
flows through my fingertips
like the weight upon my shoulders

and the only thing
worth fighting for
in my eyes
are the things
that are fighting with me.
Which is why people
come and go.
But blank pages
are always meant to be filled.