It used to be they’d be together
All around town;
Down at the beach or out on the sound
Now she’s broken hearted, he’s no longer around.

Please don’t ask her to explain,
Instead she tells it to the rain.

He used to tell his friends
He was sure she’s the one,
for no one was more beautiful
or could be more fun.
But she won’t wear his ring,
Now that Love's come undone.

Please don’t ask him to explain
Instead he tells it to the rain.

Their breakup causes problems
Beyond their private pain;
When friends start choosing sides
things just won’t be the same.
I heard that she got jealous of
Some girl named Lorraine-

But please don’t ask them to explain-
Just let them tell it to the rain.

I don't understand.
Am I the only one?
Who doesn't agree with society
When the day is done.
Bulging hip bones are key,
With gaps in our thighs.
But have you ever thought,
Society lies?

"Happiness can't exist,
With out a man by your side.
And you can't get a man,
Unless you put down those fries.
But have a good time,
Go smoke and drink.
Have you tried this drug?
It's better than you think.
And don't get a job,
Or save all your money.
Just meet the right guy,
And there you go honey!
But he wants a certain girl,
Flawless and stunning.
So go buy this makeup,
And your in the running.
By the second date.
Open your heart.
And open your legs,
Your relationship will start.
He'll always love you,
And he says it all the time,
Luckiest girl in the world,
With a hot guy by her side.
All muscle and gorgeous,
It's just perfect,
No fights, just love,
This was totally worth it."

Really?
You you really want that?
Hate to break it to you,
But that's total crap.
Reality isn't this life,
It's fantasy if that.
Society is a demon,
That tells you your fat.
It's a size you can't fit.
It's a race you can't win.
It's a pathway death,
From girls dying to be thin.
No one can fit the standards,
That's how money is made.
Society feeds on that,
And innocent people that paid.
Guys and girls.
Of every age,
Feel the affects,
Of society's rage.
And yes I said guys.
They too feel the hate.
If they don't have the look,
Girls don't wanna date.
"Too fat, too thin,
Where's the 6-pack?
Yeah nice personality,
But who wants that?"
I want that.
Yeah I said it.
That's real love,
And that's where I'm headed.
I want a long life,
I look a head,
And yes I want to enjoy it,
Before I lie dead.
Your journey is not over
When your thirty or forty
You might have kids to raise,
You have to get up in the morning.
You get to grow old,
With a husband you love.
The one you married,
For the brains up above.
Not for the looks,
Because time fades it.
But for the personality.
That's what is truly infinite.
He should love the same way.
No pressure, no harm.
And if he ever does,
It should sound an alarm.
Because your better than that.
And don't compare.
I know its hard.
So be prepared.

I'm  here to warn you,
Of the road your traveling.
You will hit a dead end,
And life will leave you straggling.
Change your ways now,
Open your eyes,
To the truth of life,
Society lies.

I am a selfish poet.
I am a narcissist.
Yes,
I like to re-read my poetry.
Thinking to myself,
"Oh! You nailed it with that line!"
Then,
I won't write for months.
Don't want to give the people too much.
Keep them guessing,
wanting more.
What happens when they don't want more.
In a bright room,
I'm the dark center.
In a dark room,
I'm still the dark center.
That's the great thing about being a selfish poet.
I can always imagine being the center.

The chilly, late-Autumn day
Was just like any other.
As I boarded the yellow tin can
I grabbed the coat into which I would smother
My face, flushed and damp with the tears.
The tears that sometimes explode
Out of my eyes when something sets me
Over the edge, onto which I can no longer hold.
The edge that is the difference
Between falling into oblivion and sanity.
The edge that makes me question
My very existence in humanity.
Why get so hung up the things
That in reality, couldn't make any
Difference in the future of your existence,
Contrary to what was told to you by many?
Today could be the day
That I can honestly, without hesitation,
Say that the edge no longer runs my life
Like a convict on probation.
The edge that no longer runs
My life as I exit the metal can.
The freedom is what I have now,
That the edge is no longer better than.

We all have a past,
We all hide it well;
We all forget that
We all hurt inside.

The devil is whispering
through white plaster,
pock-marked walls.
The window's eyes are watching
every movement of the
hardwood floors, sending out
dust.
A front door with four locks,
but one is broken.
A back down with four locks,
but never opened.
The devil can't get out,
the demons can't get in.
Waiting for the chance
for redemption,
riding on the back of a cockroach.
Close the French doors to the bedroom,
shut out the world,
bathed in darkness,
hidden,
secluded,
perfect
for one more day.