Your laugh
Your eyes
You’re majestic hair
Your courage
Your strength
Your passion.
I wish I could have these things.
However these are qualities I don’t think I could ever possess
You know how to make people laugh.
You care.
Your brave.
However I fear you are not willing to try again.
And I don’t blame you.
I’m just as scared as you are.
There are many truths I have not shared with you.
But the time will come.
To tell you how I really feel.
Long story short,
You’re my everything.
You just have no idea.

Pencils
Pencils are just like people.
The harder you push, the darker and darker the lines get.
The harder the imprint is.
Sometimes, those imprints last forever.
But once you push too hard.
They break.

Holding hands.
Hugging.
Kissing.
Sharing memories together.
Love.
Love is a beautiful thing.
Until it’s isnt.
The fights.
The struggles.
The sacrifices.
What were they all for?
For someone to leave you in a pile of dirt.
Throw you away like a piece of garbage.
Forget you.
They always say, “ Love makes you do crazy things.”
But I disagree.
I don’t think love is what makes  you crazy.
It’s the part where they forget you.
That’s what makes you truly crazy.

The people you think care.
And love.
The people who are always there.
For no one other than you.
They always remember your birthday.
Take care of you when you’re sick.
Never miss a holiday.
Would do just about anything for you.
Sometimes I like to beleive these people exist.
Even beleive that they happen to know me.
But caring gets people hurt.
It messes them up.
A lot.
It hurts them.
And twists them.
That’s why people are bitter and sour.
To protect themselves.
From those types of people.
The ones that care too much.

The trees you see outside.
So pretty and green.
They grow so tall.
Some of them have a lean.

The smiling faces across the street.
Inviting and warm.
Some, bitter sweet.

The kisses and hugs and love and cheer.
Trust me, it won’t last more than a couple years.

The kids outside.
They’re all fake.
They’re inside, online.
Looking for friends to make.

This world in general.
All sorts of messed up.
If maybe, just maybe, someone would look up.

And see all the hate.
All the ****.
All the drugs.
All the violence.

Maybe someone will realize.
It’s all bullsh*t.

There’s this lovely little thing.
It’s called being sad.
For some people it *****.
For others, not that bad.

Here are some symptoms.
I will give you a list.
And I will do my best.
To make sure none are missed.

Your chest feels hollow.
Then it’s hard to swallow.
Your eyes begin to tear up.
Then suddenly you can’t get up.
You’re huddled in a ball.
More likely against a wall.

But don’t worry you’re just sad.
If you make it fun, it’s not that bad.