There is no finish line
you run and you run and you run
your legs get tired
you cross that line
you collapse
in a combination of exhaustion pride and excitement
a euphoric happiness i guess
you're done
but then the finish line moves
and you're still miles and miles away
you have to pick your exhausted body up
and keep moving
or you don't
so many people don't
but there is no finish line
there is no first place
and there is no winners circle
you just keep running
until one day
you don't

Because I will never leave
Maybe I won’t be standing right next to you
But I’ll a piece of every blooming flower on an early spring morning
I’ll be in every raindrop that lands on your skin when you don’t want to live anymore
I’ll be in the rays of the sun shining down on your brightest days
I’ll be present in the slight chill of a fall breeze
I will never leave you
I will always be here
I will always be so close
no matter how far away I feel
telling you how sorry I am you can’t feel me beside you
But I’ll be there

If I had 1,000 years I’d spend them all terrified
I’d spend them counting down the days
I’d spend them fearing the end
and wishing wanting and praying for 1,000 more
I’d spend them fearing the end
I’d spend them fearing the end
and I’d be relieved the day my time was up.

nobody likes me when I'm happy
when theres a smile on my face
when I  feel whole
when there's substance
it's when I'm empty
drained of all the substance
it's when I have nothing left to grasp at
that you feel best about yourself
when I have nothing left to brag about
that you've got the world at your feet
you've got the world knocking on your door
and i've got no one crying at me feet
I could dissapear
and the only difference it'd make
is there's more mail for you to toss away

i stick my head out the window of speeding cars
to know what it's like to fall without a parachute
to no freedom
no responsibilities
no plan b's
no safe way out
to know it's over
to fall and know the only thing ahead of you
is the ground
I call the shots
I decide when it's over
I fall when I want to fall
I hit the ground when I want it to end
My life
I didn't decide when it started
but it ends when I want it to end
I hold the trigger
where the period goes is all my choice.

"It's all I've ever known" she sputtered
but she's 34 years old now
the scars on her wrists aren't liberating
and the cries for help aren't cute
the self destructive girl
isn't going to be saved by a white knight on a noble steed
her nights of feeling incomplete
alone
empty
and unhappy with every moment of her life
from her wedding night
the birth of her son
the day she met him
none of it had ever gone right
and no matter how hard she fought to destroy herself
there was never a white knight on a noble steed coming to save her from herself

If this is how it is
how it's going to be
if this is all we are
all that we were ever meant to be
then you can bury me now
we are not whole
maybe we never will be
but then you can bury me
because i'm too tired
tired of fighting
tired of looking
tired of feeling
bury me now
I could use the rest.

"Just breathing is exhausting" she muttered it under her breath, but I heard it. I can't say I was surprised, I would've heard those words regardless, she had them written on her face and all throughout her body. The way her bones cracked when she stood up, the way the whites of her eyes had been swapped out and tinged by a glazed over yellow. She moved like each finger lifted, each muscle contraction was oh so intricately planned but oh so poorly executed. All the color of her face was drained to an empty hollow grey. Nothing in her life had gone right. I couldn't blame her for pulling the trigger, I still can't, but I'll never stop blaming myself for teaching her how to hold the gun.

Keep striving
work your *** off to be unhappy
be incomplete
hate yourself
hate your fellow man
hate the walls you surround yourself with
the people on your day to day commute
the people that smile at you
the people that frown forever
**** them
break things
hearts, promises, faces
get ******
be honest
especially if it'll hurt
be erratic
but no matter what you try to do
don't you dare try to be happy
nobody writes about happiness

I grew up in a house full of tension
and bad words meant in the sincerest of ways
the kinds of words that leave bruises
worse than a fist
and cuts
deeper than a butchers knife
the tension you could wrap up in a blanket and take to bed at night
those cold feelings that grew to be so familiar that you welcomed them with open arms
not because you wanted them or even enjoyed those emotions
but because they were all you had ever known
and when you take away the only constant in your life
no matter how much you despised it
you're still left with nothing

I can tell you that you're beautiful.
I can tell you you make me feel complete.
I can tell you that you make every dysfunctional piece of my life & myself make sense.
I can tell you that I love you.
But I'll grow old & tired & weary, & I'll forget,
so will you.
I'll forget how you looked in my eyes.
I'll forget how you pulled me back together.
I'll forget how you brought order to a confusing world.
I'll forget just how you made me feel.
Time will pass & these will be nothing but empty words & jaded memories, & neither one will be worth a **** to either one of us.

I know you
and you know me
we've been here before
yet nothing has changed
neither one of us knows what to do
neither one of us knows where to go
so we wander
we drift apart
we fade in and out
and we go back and forth
that's how it is
and unfortunately
that's more than likely
how we'll stay

Can we take a night off?
Can we forget that I didn't pay the bills on time?
that I burnt dinner last night
that the laundry's not done
that the dishes are *****
that the toilet's stuffed up
that the roof is leaking
that we can't afford hot water
that the mirrors are *****
that I'm always running late
that I always forget what I'm saying midsentence
can we forget the fighting
and can we remember
just for tonight
that we love each other?

It's hard to write about what I'm feeling inside
when I'm not sure what that is myself most of the time.
I never like to talk about myself
about how I feel
about what I'm thinking
so I don't.
I'll avoid questions
I'll change topics
I'll prematurely end conversations
and I'll shut people out.
I've done this so often that I think
I somehow got lost in the shuffle.
I've put up walls I don't even think I can climb.
You ask me how I'm feeling & I don't know.
You ask me what I'm thinking & I don't know.
Somewhere along the way I forgot the combination
and now I'm locked out like everyone else.

I don't know what it feels like to be whole. I've always felt like there's something missing from me. It's like I'm a 1,000 piece puzzle put together on a white carpeted floor with one piece left out, but the piece that's missing is a snowy white piece in the middle of a blizzard, so no one seems to notice that this one piece is missing. No one seems to notice but me, and with every day that goes by that one little missing piece seems to become more and more integral to the overall landscape that this puzzle tries to piece together.

Somehow, someway, in some alternate universe
I'd like to think you're reading this
I'd like to think you're thinking of me
I'd like to think we're together tonight
keeping close to stay warm
taking comfort in one anothers embrace
laying in the dark staring at the stars
that illuminate the sky
going on long pointless drives
at 2 am to nowhere in particular
drinking early morning coffee
only to spend a lazy day in each others arms
somewhere I'd like to think things are different
but right here I'm stuck on repeat day after day
and every 2 steps forward is 4 steps back.

She sees blindly, selectively.
She sees the man whos arms are the only place she feels safe, not the violent brute who beats her if she breathes to loudly.
She sees her friends who care about her more than anything, not the people who complain to her constantly, as if they've forgotten they have working ears.
She sees a job she loves where she gets to help people, not the one where her boss feels her up & tells her if she says or does anything, she's fired.
She sees the man in the elevator who says "good morning ma'am" every morning & "good night" every night, not the man who stares down the revealing shirts her boss makes her wear to keep her job.
She sees the man who helps her wash her car, not the man who spits at her window & calls her a ******* ***** because she accidentily cut him off.
She sees freedom & a way out, not the gun.
She sees blindly, selectively.

So he asked her why they'd even moved
to California in the first place
if she hated the heat
so ******* much.
She looked at him and said
"I hated the heat,
I still hate the heat,
but I loved you more.
I LOVED you more".

I've been living my life without you for so long
that I can't seem to remember
what it feels like to have you here.
Sometimes I forget you even exist,
not that you're no longer alive,
but I forget that you were legitimatley ever here at all,
but I always seem to remember you
here and there.
I'd like to think this life would be easier with you here,
to help me through the days like these,
to tell me that I'm important,
to make me feel there's a meaning to this,
all of this,
any of this.
You are the reason I can never bring myself to say
any of those words
I always wish I would've heard from you.

I saw you today for the first time in years.
You were stopped at a red light
and I pulled up behind you.
You were driving his car with him
in the passenger seat
due to his dui arrest
from a few weeks ago.
Your windows were rolled down
and I could hear him
screaming at you about some nonsense.
You were silent as you looked at him,
eyes off the road,
hoping for an end to the noise.
I saw the tears streaming down your cheeks
in the reflection of your rearview mirror
and watched as you put your head down on the steering wheel in an act of hopelessness and defeat.
I guess I finally know what he's got that I don't.
I guess now I finally know why he's so much better than I am.

I don't have perfect hair
I'm not 6'2 & 190 pounds
I don't have bright teeth or a six pack
my eyes don't shine through a darkened room
and I'm far from photogenic
I forget more things than I remember
I have no special skills or discernable talents
my skin is pale and full of holes scars and ink
I feel uncomfortable out of place & awkward
in almost almost all social situations
I'm slightly paranoid & always afraid someone somewhere
is judging me
I rarely get anything on the first try & I often lose faith
before I accomplish what I've set out to do
I'm my own toughest critic & believe that
I'm average at best if even that
I may not be all that I'm supposed to be
but I might be everything you may never find
in someone else
so with all of my flaws faults & shortcomings
of which there are many
my heart still beats
and I can still manage
to love you all the same

I had a friend once
who would always tell the funniest of stories
like this one time
he woke up in the same bed
the same room
the same house
the same town
but today was different
today, for once, he was sober
and he very much planned to stay that way
from this moment in time
or what eventually became that moment in time
which became next week
next month
pretty soon
you'll see
he'd be a new man
a clean man
a respectable man
a sober man
I just came back from my friends funeral
not too long ago
he overdosed on some ******
ironic too
because he had some serious plans to get clean
the very next morning
I had a friend once
who would always tell the funniest of stories
he was going to get clean
you'd see

He watched his sons football game
with a set of binoculars
from the parking lot 300 feet away.
His ex-wife sat on the sidelines
texting her latest boyfriend
while making eyes at her sons coach.
She didn't care for football, or
for her son much for that matter.
She would go so far as to beat him on occasion
when she'd had a bad day, but he did care,
to him that boy was everything.
For her that was all the reason she needed
to file the falsified police report
which lead to the unnecessary restraining order.
He watched his sons football game with binoculars,
she didn't even know what number was on the back of his jersey.