I saw you standing in the rain
I saw your eyes with feelings I can't contain
Maybe you're thinking "I'm the one to blame."
Oh darling please put that thought away
Like the dust from a cigarette in the ashtray
Let your doubts fly away
Give your heart a break
Because someone will take ache will vanish
Like a water in the lake
And I guess it's me who's
Comin' your way
I am obnoxiously loud
But at night, I am increadibly sad
Sometimes I think about my
Flaws a hope for a better ME,
A good looking ME and show everyone
what they missed out.

Just hold me

I don't need you to promise that you'll love me forever
Or that it will all be alright.
I'm not a child, I understand that the world is cruel and we don't always mean what we say.
I understand that people grow up and grow apart.
I don't need to hear a happy ending
Or a perfect dream.

Just hold me and be silent.
Let me fantasize what it might be like to live in that moment for infinity with you.
If I could exist in a dream, that would be it.

There is a place
in you
that needs a name
but you're an absolute beginner
at naming things.
Centred in this pathos, I've never known

whether to create stillness or bitter passion.
In this, there is a sacrifice,
something to see through to the end.

The openness I sometimes extract
can break me down.
Is it better
to find a way to say it?
Would it be better to hang for it

or to forget
how the fig is fertilised?
In its sweetness,
to forget
the distaste of undermining friendship.
I have stretched myself into the past.

I have stretched my body
to see the places it could end.
Vein bubbles
from where it started,
wet bloodgasps;
sorry smear of a poem

they write your name next to.
History repeats, all that's left;
neutrality at the cost of
a better passion,
and the count of
how many ribs you have and how many you've lost.

I abuse my fingers
and still expect them to carry me through.
There's always a way
to see trauma as something to crawl into.

If God had to go back
to work on Monday
Bet he would have invented, then rested,
More days than just Sunday.

I'm cursing my alarm--
Using, in vain, the name of his son.
Wishing that God would have rested
More days than just one.

If
          You are always sorry
When
          You think back

And
          You only worry
When
          You think ahead

Then
          You will only find
Your
          Peace of mind

After
          You are dead
WIZDUMBs BY JA 414

Midnight cries
Midnight goodbyes
Midnight full of lies
As the time flies

The moon is blue
That fits in this scene where nothing is true.
I was crying for you
For you made me blue

Too many words to keep
Till the clock strikes 1 till the clock will beep
And right now I cant barely sleep
With the darkness of your words you buried me so deep.