Deny the fact
Live in a dream...

The reality was not meant
for some of us.

He sits by the stop  
But never boards the bus
Smoking sweet smelling
Cigarettes
Fingers yellowed.
Drinking straight from
The can
Under the midday sun.
Beads of sweat on the brow.
People get on
And people get off.
Never him.
He tells me that
Sometimes
The greatest joy in life
Is watching others make the journey.

It was written in the sand
But the sea washed it away.
It was written on the cliffs
But they crumbled day by day.
It was written on the sun
But the clouds did claim the sky.
And then we wrote it in our hearts
So that it will never die.

She sat in her kitchen in her underwear, eating left over Chinese food contemplating when life got this hard.

She couldn't remember the feeling of skin against skin or lips against lips. She couldn't remember the heat of someone else's body touching hers or if there was more than just involved.

She sat there with a blank piece of paper and a purple pen in hand... Contemplating if she should write a poem or her final goodbye note.

She couldn't remember a time where she didn't feel undesirable or ugly. She couldn't remember a moment where self hatred wasn't causing nonstop fear of being alone forever.

As she sat there in her kitchen, eating leftover Chinese food, staring at blank papers she started to cry. She started to wonder when things would eventually look up.

Within the
Wilted leaves
Of the
Forgotten garden,
Where the
Weeds strangle
And the air
Is still,
Lies the
Faintest scent
Of sweetness,
The dying
Breath of
Honeysuckle,
The whispering
Promise of
A better
Tomorrow.