My eyes can never unsee
My hands will never stop holding
My feet can’t take back the steps
My heart will never stop aching

Never will it stop screaming for you
Never will it walk away from you
Never will it let go of you
Never will it look past you

I found a book of poems
in a beautiful heart wood chest
And written across its sturdy lid
Was the word "hope", like sunday best

Upon this book of poems
Lay a velvatine writting pen
And vials of ink from distilled life
For writing letters to her friend

When I went to read her words
 I discovered the lock on it
The key she gave that opened her room
Was never the key that would fit

So I put her poems back
I was nothing more than a guest
And with the blood that ran from my eyes
Next to "hope", I wrote the word "less".

I hear the banging on my door,
I hear the screaming in my head,
I see the awful pictures in my head,
and the awful videos on repeat,
and it makes me wish that I was dead.

I'm here sitting
alone,
the smell of coffee runs through
my veins,
some music i probably will forget
in a few years arguing with
the thought of you,

But I'm here,
I'm here,
writing about what's happening

pretty boring huh?

i call myself a poet
but i can't use high metaphors,

i call myself a poet
but i can't describe fully
how you make me feel

i call myself a poet

but what am i?

I'm just a kid
scared of life
finding new ways to cope
searching for someone to love,
desperate,
not holding unto my dreams
how can i choose with my mind
what's right for the heart to choose.

and you see?
don't you see?

don't worry i can't either

i can't see how great i am
i can't see how other people see me
i wish i could.

i want to believe this was a dream
or
a nightmare at that.

But at last.
I'm here wishing that in another life
i could be with you,
or
maybe in other deaths,

i crave your touch,
i crave you..
with coffee waking up my senses
like a kid in summer waking up early
to go play with his friends.

i wish things were different,
so i wouldn't have to wish.