Depression doesn’t care for
the size of your bank account,
or tire from how many laps you can run.
It doesn’t care how bright the sun is
or who holds you in each night.
Depression sneers at all those photographs
lined upon your bedside table.
It won’t ask to use your emotions
to taint them and everything
that may hold some light to the dark.

For a few months,
you’ll think you’re making progress;
don’t fool yourself,
You haven’t even started.
Everything will smell like him.
Your pillow,
your clothes,
even the air.
You'll even still have their cards and photos
lined upon your bedside table.
You'll get drunk,
and you'll send them poems you wrote,
and songs that remind you of them.  
They'll tell you you’re a good writer,
and this will be the last real thing
they ever say to you.
You'll find you won't be able to write
if it's not about them,
they still plague your mind,
your thoughts,
and your dreams.
The first poem you write that’s not about them
will feel like victory at last.
It won’t be.
They'll always find a way
to slither back into your words.
Your friends will keep listening to you weep,
as they weep over the one that got away too.
They come and go in the middle of your favorite songs,
between each beat you see their smile,
and their beauty in every piece of art;
their beauty in every stroke.
Whenever someone asks you what your favorite color is,
you just want to say 'their eyes'.
They light up like a lake in twilight,
like the moon you shared your first kiss below.
You'll want to go back there for closure.
You still haven’t done it yet.
You aren’t ready to let go.
If you do go you know it'll only make it worse.
And for the rest of your life,
you will be hoping to meet someone
as magical as them.
Every soul that catches your eye,
you won’t really be looking at them.
You’ll be searching for them.
You’ll never find them again.

Another year,
another piece of me
that is getting
left behind.

Your heart isn’t true;
not anymore.
And now this feeling of blue
leaves me unsure
because I can’t believe you;
can’t see you the same no more.

I wait for you
In my thoughts,
and in my dreams.
I don't know how long you'll take,
all I know is that you'll be here soon.
My reach is far,
and my hopes are big,
after coming to the realization
that you probably won't come,
and that this is all
in my head.

There's a fog that will not lift
It blocks my path;
all I can do is drift.
Despite how lost I may be,
I still see a light
in front of me.
I cannot tell just what it is,
a figure, maybe even you
or a me I never knew.
The figure still shines and I follow
through the shadow and cold.
Lead the way, tell me where to go.

Dear May,
You’ve been good to me so far.
The days last longer and the air is warming.
But most of all, you've brought clarity.
But these days,
though I am more at peace
I feel a storm coming;
a war within myself.
As good as you have been,
we know these days cannot last.
But thank you, May,
you’ve been good to me.

From known to unknown
From almost to finished
From together to alone
From whole to perished
From safety to danger
From different to normal
From before to after
From devil to angel
From chaos to routine
From angry to placid
From ***** to clean
From bold to timid
From everything that was me
To everything I've feared to be

I ache for skies I have not seen,
and for people I have not met.
But most of all,
I ache for you.

I rehearse the words
I want to say to you
over and over again in my head.
Tonight I should be sleeping,
but I have to think this through;
I have to get this right.
I’m pretty certain I’m just another
face to you, or, that’s what I’m becoming.
But you were never just another face.
And you will never be just another face.
Nor will you become a distant memory;
I will always carry you close to my heart
even though I’m pretty sure
I never got close to yours.

You’re in a weird place right now;
you feel like you don’t know which way is up
and which way is down,
and you know everyone
says to just follow your heart,
but you don’t know where it is.
It’s in that clearing where you left it.
It’s in the summer air.
It’s in a love you haven’t touched.
It’s in a song you haven’t listened to.
A book you haven’t read.
You’ll find it again,
you will,
just please,
don’t stop looking.

I’m missing what we had;
love, lust - whatever you want to call it,
it doesn't matter.
What mattered was the warmth of your touch,
that angel voice that could melt my worries away,
the safety of your hand in mine,
the safety in your arms.
Call it what you will;
you could even call it a garden:
a sea of blood-red roses,
blooming, blessing all it touched.
But like many roses,
some of them had thorns.
In the end, we found ourselves torn,
pierced and wounded from our roses.
My thorns still remain,
lodged deep in my heart;
do yours still sting?
Nevertheless,
I still tend do our garden,
do you?

We’re jumping from island to island
on an ocean
in the clouds;
It doesn’t matter
Anyway.

Roses are red?
Violets are blue?
April sees the end for spring
and I am dead to you.

Have you ever
heard a tale of a phoenix
falling in love with a
wolf in sheep’s clothing?
One was rebirth
and the other was betrayal.
What good could come of
their tangled and violent embrace?

The way you smiled at me
almost had me believe
that I mattered
again

A cold spring night
in a grim and dragging April
I am thriving everywhere
I am the dark, I am the shadow
I am the moon, I am the snow.
Do not talk of day
I’ve heard that word before
Now but a distant memory
Fading from my dreams
I am the wolf, I am the char
I am the storm, I am the stars
I built this sea of clouds
So that darkness may rule
I have no need for light
for I am the night.

I have a compulsive habit
where I tend to cut people off
the second they get close to me.
Maybe I do this because
I’m terrified of being hurt again;
but maybe the reason isn’t important.
I tend to cut them off quickly
but allow you to stay
in the background like a radio;
On, yet no one is listening to it.
I’ll cut off anyone that reminds
me of you because maybe
if I ignore you long enough
you’ll fade away.

This car seems to drive itself.
I no longer feel the wheel in my grasp,
nor do I see the stretch of road ahead.
But do I see the black sunset
consuming the sky above.
I notice as the colour fades,
my headlights break through
the growing darkness.
I can see every changing moment;
the car drives on

We have nothing
in common?
We had a history
in common,
a history when we thought
we had everything
in common.

Our first drink of *** was sweet.
It coated our tongues
with spice and the back
of our throats with a burn.
For a moment
I was scared,
because oh,
how easily one can get hooked.

Our first drink of *** was sweet.
It coated our tongues
with spice and the back
of our throats with a burn.
For a moment
I was scared,
because oh,
how easily one can get hooked.

Someday
I am going to meet somebody
and she’s going to be
the moon of my life.
Someday
she will be my muse,
my sun and my stars.
Someday
she will make me swoon
and leave me wanting more
just like you used to

Light dances off your red dress;
I think I adore you.
But it’s never the right time,
the clock ticks and distance
drags us apart like two galaxies
helpless against the dark energy
that keep us in our place.
It only reminds me
that time is running out;
that we’re moving further apart
and never toward one another..
Oh, what I wouldn’t give to hold you
to hear your voice guide me to sleep,
to undo this dark energy between us.

I’m alone
with my own thoughts
for far too long for anything
to be a surprise.

Let's look into
one another's eyes
and we can pretend
We aren’t on the edge of something
we won’t survive

You took
my soul
and ran

You can watch a fire
begin with a spark,
so I’ll stand by your side
until I spot a flame.

Love is not 50/50,
that is just a half-assed attempt
at an emotion that takes it all
and expecting to make it.
Love is 100/100,
so you’re giving all you’ve got
to someone who gives you their all.
It may not work out,
but it isn’t because you didn’t try.
Now it has come to an end,
you kiss goodbye,
and wave each other off
into the fading sunset
and not feel an ounce
of regret.

Sometimes I crave company
yet yearn for solitude.
We strive towards things
that we know will get away
and yet we fail to comprehend
that basic fact of life.
We search for lasting happiness
yet find ourselves lost in petty things.
We want to impress the world
yet we can’t even love ourselves.
Let’s let go of what we think
we need to be
and become what we
want to be.

Was it ever
about you?

spring has sprung
and i’m left in
the snowy mountains
to face the damage done.

time doesn’t heal.
it is a scheming wound
stretching out like the universe itself
until it crunches back into you;
an imploding reality.

God, I wish I were young again.
I miss being a kid, I miss the innocence,
I miss being alive and spirited,
and engrossed by everything that moves.
I’d give anything to go back;
to relive those early years..
Compared to now, it was paradise.
Look how bleak and empty
my life has become.
The same old story,
the same routine,
it never ends.
I miss the magic,
the adventure,
the uncertainty.
This roller coaster we call life
has been dropping for as long
as I can remember.
Every passing second
remains in the past.
I’ve never felt so helpless
knowing there’s no going back.
I must look forward now,
and grow into who I need to be.

Today was a good day
and yet I still felt empty
at the end of it while laying
on my bed drowning in music
just like every other day.
Smiling, I close my eyes
And turn up the volume;
some days will have highs
and some days will have lows;
It will be okay.

I don’t know
when or where,
but I know I’ll
meet you there

I only know it as a prison,
even if I should not.
It’s cold inside this prison,
the one I call my head.
The warden strolls past the cells,
her smirk as sharp as knives
as she’s only here to punish.
I’ve been locked up
as long as memory itself,
so long that I’ve forgotten
who I was before a prisoner.
I hear the warden snicker
as she walks by.
Sometimes I day dream
about escaping this hell,
and finding the light
I so bitterly crave.
I dream about plotting my revenge,
About striking down the sorrow
and her leaving behind,
locked up and helpless,
and warden of nothing at all.

I wish they’d all go away;
The crowds, the voices,
all of it.
Yet they continue
to fill these empty days.
Time will continue to fade
and bring a brand new day
to waste my life away.

There’s nothing better than
the feeling when someone
contradicts
what you tell yourself
about yourself
every day;
that you may have been lying
to yourself
all this time.

I don’t know how
I ended up on this planet.
Maybe I crash landed;
It’s possible.
I’ve tried to adapt,
but it ain’t easy,
believe me.
Sometimes I feel human
but like rainbows,
those moments never last.
I still have a lot to learn
and a lot to regret
but overall,
I think I’m doing okay.
Maybe I’m not so alien
after all.

I keep all my emotions
In a treasure chest
under the oceans
much to my unrest.
I squeezed them all in
and threw away the key;
may as well have been the bin
or the bottom of the sea.
No wonder I have none left
to wear on my face;
to fill this empty cleft
or give me lasting grace.
No, I have put them in lines
Through ink and paper
Through artistic designs
And through every stanza.

What was scary as the monsters
Was living in my head
all along.

when you take out
every part of me,
leaving it all behind
and filling me
with yourself,
every inch and feeling
and every thought of you
has consumed me whole
and then you leave
me behind too

I have not forgotten your name
nor what you did to my heart
the way it skipped a beat
from the way you light up
any room like a piece of art

Every time I see our pictures
Only one thought runs through my mind
and I have nothing left to say.
It’s not that I have no words for you,
It’s that they always slip away.
Every greeting, every compliment
weights down my heart
as I remember you’re no longer mine.
All I can do now is hope that,
every once in a while,
you see those pictures
and I cross your mind once again
that you feel me in your veins
and maybe cause your heart
to skip a beat;
maybe I can make you smile
one last time.

I want you
and a home to come home to
or maybe to come home to you
or maybe a home in you
or maybe I just want you.

I’ve been writing about you a lot
It comes so easy and I don’t want to stop
For me, it’s a way of keeping you real,
a way of convincing myself
there is something more
It fuels my desire to keep you,
a way of begging the cosmos
to pick up on my words
and turn them into stardust
so they could reach you every night
and when you wake up
you will feel a familiar love
in your heart and maybe know
that it is me thinking of you
from another place,
wishing, willing
that our souls will somehow
become one.

The simplicity
of a short but blunt
and simple poem
can temporarily
cast out the
demons that
roam inside
my head

If someone told me
you’d be mine
sending me your love
all the time
I would have laughed.
But it seems as if
This endless fairytale
is in our eyes again
such a perfect story
and a dream so intense
this isn’t making sense.

The moon still watches over us
but it doesn’t glow like it used to
It basked you in twilight
reflecting every smile,
every gaze, every hair
and every inch of skin
like a Monet painting
Before my eyes.
But now,
my prized possession,
is missing.
Hung up in
someone else’s museum,
across the world it seems.
Now I cannot paint
without my inspiration,
my muse.
And I can’t bring my fingers
away from your beauty,
trapped behind
twilight glass.