i really don't understand why i am this way.
why every day is a struggle, why i have to dredge up
every single ******* positive thought from the parts of my heart
that continue to beat and bleed.

i really don't understand why i can do this.
why i can sling excuses and *******, why i can talk away
every single ******* positive thing that could happen to me when
all i want is something to smile at.

i really don't understand what keeps me here.
what keeps me holding on to you, what makes me think of
every single ******* positive thing you did for me
when there was so much negative.

i really, really don't understand why everything i write
is so angry, so sad, so ******* angsty,
even when i've had a wonderful day and i could swear to you,
i could swear it doesn't hurt anymore.

nothing hurts anymore, and nothing makes me angry.
walk away from everything i felt for you
and everything i did for you
and all the tears i ******* cried for you,
and it won't hurt me, not this time.

She paints on that beautiful smile that you see
because she doesnt know any other way to be
Hiding and disappearing
has become her greatest game
Laughing and crying
are all one in the same
Sometimes it feels like she is running
but she is really standing still
no choice but to go with it
it was all against her will
She has totally lost herself
somewhere along the way
and uses her best defense mechanisms
when there is nothing left to say
Good times have come and gone
so many wasted years
so many empty promises
and so many Im sorry Dears

Grace Slick get over here
something seems a little queer
you know that rabbit in your song
well something has gone really wrong
seems to have spread to other kinds
or is it just inside my mind
but in the corner of my eye
a big white squirrel passing by
water with a tainted source
turned the poor thing white of course
oh well it could be worse I think
at least the squirrel wasn't pink
keep an eye on where they are
breeding spreading wide and far
then again how very grand
if  squirrels white come to Scotland

It is said
that if you have no rain,
then no rainbow

I look outside my window
at the wintry storm
and I see frozen rain
descending from the skies
like a flurry of furry butterflies

Inside my little, haven,
my humble home,
where I am safe and warm,
I see the snow
falling gently down,
like soft, white feathers from above
and accumulating upon the ground
like a collection of cold diamonds

What a dreamer am I!  

I guess it beats having the winter blues

Some movie on Lifetime
ends itself.
I feel like i should
push these keys again
and try to make
some sense of self…
but overall i’m disappointed
because I know that it’s not self
that i’m trying to make sense of.
I’m trying to make sense of this computer,
and the sewing machine
on the table next to it,
and the air conditioning,
and whether or not it’s acceptable
to mention modern innovations
in poetry.

For example, if,
in a poem alone
(because i can talk to you through other mediums),
i tell you
(we’ll get to who you are in a bit)
that i
(don’t worry about who i am)
texted a girl,
(and she’s just as nameless as you are)
does the fact that i mentioned something modern
detract from the significance of the poem?

Of course,
poetry is all about the use of words as well
(sometimes we hang them from the walls
just to see how they make us look),
so i guess really the question is
whether or not
you managed to make it all work
in a way that makes sense to you.

Because honestly it’s worthless what I have to say;
you’re constructing these phrases
piecemeal
(in your head)
as we
(yes,
i’m there too)
push the buttons
(ahh, can you feel it?)
on this computer
to make us
spit out
images.

Haha,
psyche.
these are just black specks
on a white background;
our mind only attempts to give them significance
because we lack it as well.