growing up you had told me
that i wouldn’t amount to anything
just a lazy *******
my existence meant nothing more
as inconsequential as a lonely ant

ive looked for validation from you
in the forms of other people
a boss, a lover, a friend, a hook up
ive traveled the globe
and even signed away my freedom
to find it

and finally after ten long years
i think ive figured it out
you can go to hell you
******* *******
i don’t need your *******
validation anymore

letting people in is such a scary thing
my mind becomes occupied with the thought
that i might be too much of
whatever i am
all of the
“what if im too talkative?”
and all of the
“is it okay for me to feel this way?”
and then the thought if it’s okay
to ask for validation that
i truly am loved for what i am

it turns out
all i needed to do
was ask aloud

walking through the halls
analyzing each painting i pass
wondering how someone could have
such skill

what a surprise when i read the
signature as my own
when could i have created something
so lovely
and why don’t i remember how
to do it again

“i just want to live!”
the scream echoed through the empty halls
as if i was the only soul around

i guess it might be time
to open the castle gates
and start letting people in again

im haunted by guilt of
something i could have never prevented
the last message sent to you plays out
a broken record that can never be fixed
wounds that will never be healed by words
things i wish i could have done
but now can only play out as fantasies
your corpse rotting in the graveyard we used to play in
this is something i never imagined as our future
and you’re somewhere i can never visit
we’ll never reminisce on old times
and ill never hear you again say my name
there’s only so many times i can apologize to the sky

how does it feel knowing
that this has all been done before
just in different places, with different people?
life is just repetition with
slight adjustments, history repeating
over and over until time ends.
different voices, different kisses,
spending irrelevant time over
things that shouldn't have mattered
that much.

what have i been doing with my life?
i know who i was when i was younger,
full of life, wanting to get out of that
little town, just wanting to travel,
see the world, didn't matter if i had the money.
full of dreams, ready to take on the world
didn't matter what i was told.
what happened to that spark that was
lit inside? been told so many times
that things like that just aren't possible.
memories like a movie reel,
running from the cops at midnight,
losing the smokes in the bushes,
tripping on acid through the park,
breathing in the sunrise behind the apartments,
feeling peaceful.

help me fan the flame that
i know is still inside.

you're doomed
once you've realized.