I don't even have words
We crested a mountain
In down pours and
60 mph winds
now I'm home
Wrapped in clothes
and blankets
full of
memories

All this time
I have thrown around this label
My tendency to observe my surroundings
Searching for answers in every action, every move
I used to think I was a wallflower
A extroverted wallflower
who simultaneously was a social butterfly
but I am not this, I am not this at all  
I am a writer

i dont want to wake up anymore
i just dont

Loving*
                               is
                                                                ­  too
                                 *mainstream
                but
                                ­                being
                                                                ­                  loved
                                                               back
                                                is
                                                                ­                     not.

"So hard to let love go.
You try, and try, but the negative always shows.
Family, and a friend show their concern with a pat on the back,
and a voice crying out. "Don't worry it's going to be all right."
Eventually is like a clock that stopped in time.
Love is a quickly needed emotion, it's branded in the mind.
Will a heart someday come knocking at my door?
Will she have the magic that i patiently wait for?
Memories of my past will always be my present,
but can my  now present become my memories of my future?
Excuse me. Theirs a knock at my door!!

One day these chains will break
One day I'm going to take
One day
at a time.
And one day I will be free
like the raging of the sea
and on that day
I'll surely see
what these chains
have kept from me.

You stir, sheets stick to your skin,
drawn curtains; shake off the spins.
A summit of buttermilk thunderheads
snap the silk threaded ilk from your covered bed;
a flurry of cats and dogs in Elysium,
but you’d even prefer the Devil beat his wife instead.
There’s no clarity in a mare’s tail;
can’t bear to see the day in shades of gray-scale;
exhale the sale from off the same scale.
You’d rather play jail than pay bail so you can pray tell.

And now I’m in the dark with a snare drum background;
hounds drowned barks turn heads, twiddle thumbs, and lack sound.
And a drenched cat just wants the home with the furnace:
the blankets, the treats, the tone; only earnest.
I’m learning.

Daddy are you listening ?
Theres some things i have to say ,
The things i think and pray about
every single day.

I want you to know i remember ,
So clearly that awful fight ,
You told us you were leaving
And drove off into the night .

At 5 it is confusing
To see all this go down ,
It took some getting used to
Not having you around .

Even when we'd visit you
You were never really there,
Another bottle , another line ,
Its not like you cared.

Isnt it odd that at ten years old i was
Tucking a grown man into bed ?
And isnt sad as your daughter ,
I couldnt trust a word you said ?

So how am i suppose to trust man
Who says that he will stay?
You said the exact same thing
And you still walked away.

Understand your actions ,
Have trickled into my life ...
Youre the one who desserted us,
Yet its your loved ones that pay the price.