And I missed the warnings
The ones in the mirror
That tell me that the objects reflected back were depressed more than they appeared
And the parts of my life, the ones that move slower, are spent searching for "hellos" in the sunrise
Now, I didn't choose the sunset, but you chose the doorway and everything must end in the closing of this moment.
Cause people ask what it was like loving you
I just say "it was nice."
But the echoing silence that now fills my room is slowly tearing me apart.
I have dreams, dreams where I'm falling and I'm crying for help but only screaming your name.
Because loving you was my favorite song but I've pushed replay too many times and now the button doesn't work.
I'm told to look on the bright side, to search for the good, but I've been locked in the dark with a solitary moment of you.
Well, the song is now over and it can't be replayed and I'm stuck here thinking of the one who slipped away.

Hug me tightly, take my breath away,
From all the beautiful words in the world,
Pick the best ones and say,  
Stay with me everyday ,
Collect your trust and upon me lay,  

When you walk passed me smile at me,
To help me exist to help me be,  
Reaching you I would swim the deepest sea,  
We are young now and we are free,  

Your hug is home,
Your hug is fire,  
Without your hug I'm homesick,  
Without your hug I'm cold,  

My life was dark until you brought light,  
My life was wrong until you made it right,  
When you're out of my sight,
It's always night,
With you sun shines brighter than bright,  

I'll tell you now, I'll tell them too,  
My heart belongs to someone and that's you.


©2015-AROODY

I'm fueled by
cheap cold cuts
and cracked cans
of beans,
of beers,
and being below
the line of uneven
distribution//////

retribution.

There's a bit of execution
in the way a anti-institution
peels of its mask
and reveals revolution.

I don't know why the prism
is cracked
but
the shattered shards
glimmer & commentate
why we
can only see shades.

There's an anchor.
It's pulling me
closer
and
further away.

There are eyes that confront,
but there is no remorse.

Brown carries a negative connotation
and so the story carries on.
There will be eyes of this coloration,
but rarely a tale of happiness.

The theories behind formulas
don't take emotions into consideration.
It's kind of a misappropriation,
if you think about it,

We spend lives following
sequences, patterns, developments.
But we're only becoming dense
as we're hollowing.

I wish to love
as I wish to breathe.

I wish to love
as I want to believe.

This unreachable constellation
is a similar misappropriation.

I am a ball of yarn
hopelessly tangled
and
ignored.

You are a seamstress-
weaving optimism
and pragmatic emotion
for the forlorn.

and that's just it
the beauty in lies
the perception that everything's alright

like the difference between
looking at something
and looking past it

its hard for me
when i sometimes mix the two
and how it leaves me thinking
about the day
you ran away

how i spent the year in bed
when i was far too 'tired' to pick up the phone
cause i was under the assumption
that you'd come back
if i couldn't help myself

and im calling out for the paramedics
cause i drank myself blue again
sprawled out on this tile floor

when they found me
they started pumping up memories
pumping memories of the day when you said we needed to 'TALK'
how i spent that night on the bridge burning my throat

coughing up the day
that i saw you with him
how it started the cycle all over again

well its been a lonely year
one year too much
since the last meal we had together
in your favorite diner
with the juke box
and the old music
and how ive stopped singing those songs

i guess it's no coincidence
that the birds fly away whenever im around

cause i can't see you for who you are
if all ive know is what youre not

and as the words slip from my mouth
the rain begins to fall
as if God thought it necessary
to fill these wounds with more than just blood

someone was on the bridge the other day
they were close to jumping
with endless races of cars sweeping by
and its hard to look at something
when all im looking at is the past
and now that I think about it
i wish that was me

Amaryllis beauty left hid away
with bleak existence day after day.
Searching for the beauty that filled my dreams;
like golden arched laughs on twinkling sun beams.

I cut the fork in the road, left casually my blood it begins to flow.
Bleeding down into the ground Ive sowed,
wishing now my time was owned.

But as I look down at the past
I begin to see how hope trickles fast.

For In the ground a flower bloomed
blood rose as the rest.
Subtle with its deadly perfume
It's beauty as pink as breast.

For the love it gives with subtle hues
Always remind me of you.