Ok, yea I'm gonna go ahead,
And take that as a personal hit.
I knew that it would only last for a moment.
But, holy **** did that just hurt.
Even though it wasn't me.
I am too one if the unidentified ones.
Classifying us all as one,
Holy ****, the damage you have done.
I've been nothing but nice to you.
You have said it your self.
Now you just classified us all,
As nothing but ****.
Now, I'm terrified to say anything at all.
I'll hang out like a fly on the wall.
I'm not going to lie,
          That
              Really
                 *******
                       H
                    U
                R
            T.

I regret so much bringing you on to that
train
I felt like a fool
a useless friend
a mean person
who did not understand.

I regret so much losing you in the crowd
but I tried to find you
Saw you and your gray jacket
Red Bag
Lovely long hair
disappearing into the crowd
that was swallowing you.

I regret so much to not being a good friend
who listens
and tries to understand
and keep quiet.

My apologies if I kept asking you
for a reason and
if you were
okay.

I was really scared.
I cried.

came up with this analogy with you and I swear it cheers me up every time I think of it

:-) is such a misleading face.

one

Let's just say that
:-) is Tom Riddle
and
:) is Voldemort
Same being,
but they exist as different people,
different statuses,
different motives and
their existence have different effect on people.

two

:-) is the face of a snowman
: are the eyes
- is that dry, swollen carrot
) it the smile the children the children put on to the snowman's face because they love their snowman to look happy

how does it feel though,
when it's alone in the wide field of snow and cold probably without anyone else to accompany them?

how does it feel
when it watches children play in the beautiful winter snow and can't join in
when the only thing is can do is watch and risk getting attacked

how does it feel
when it leads such a transient and short life
and all it does is stand there quietly

that's when you came in*

how does it feel
when it sees the smiles put on children's faces,
feeling their warmth and delight
as they play among the soft white blanket of winter chill,
when it listens to the melodious festive songs
playing in the neighborhood
soothing its soul,
when the aroma of the warm food
wafts through the air and
lands on its lovely carrot nose with a silent hiss?

**blessed.

You know how you try to hold water in your hands
but the water always slips away?
And then you try and try and try
to make sure the water doesn't slip away.

It's never ending,
no matter how many times it slips away,
the next time we try,
we would do it again and again to make sure it doesn't.

Maybe it's the same for love.
Well,
similar
not same.

When you try to hold love in your hands,
no matter how big your hands are
or how tightly your fingers are put together
love will still slip
through those small little gaps
you will never be able to cover.

But as love slips,
unlike water,
it leaves a
wound
scratch
abrasion.
And even if time heals them
the next time we try to hold love in again
it will still slip away
leaving us with
hurt
agony
pain.

That's how love works,
merciless with side effects like
rejection
conflicts
misunderstandings
over thinking
over caring
leaving you with indescribable pain.

But at the end of the day
the love left in your palms
is the love we deserve
for trying so hard

You once asked me
"Don't you feel lonely?"
with all my words
and actions
that has caused people anguish.

Yes
Now I do feel lonely.
You are satisfied aren't you.

How is it that this thing consumes my life?
this ghost
you are not here
nothing but an empty shell
pressing your hollow image into mine
i dream of your ghost
not capable of seeing a clear face
blurs of sleepless nights and tangled hair
drips of sweat and water
undeniably detached
a tongue out expression
the only indication of yourself
what does your ghost want
nothing but to touch skin after skin after skin
does my beige shade not meet your standards
what standards could a hollow man have
a ghost only wants to remain a ghost
sheltered from any type of feeling
always looking for new bodies to haunt
and i wonder what it is you're after.

There's something about everything about nothing about how we were created, tiny blips in a system of "Nothing Even Matters" starring the worst producers in the universe. One could catch a glimpse of us as they pass by to get to somewhere better and laugh, and shake their heads and they would know our only purpose in existence was to make them feel better inside. But whoever writes a book in the view of the indifferent? Whoever directs a movie where nothing different happens? That's like asking who remembers the forgotten, it's possible but ever so unlikely, and sure as sine is undulated, under appreciated, somewhat very deflated, and though we aren't remembered, we sure aren't too terribly hated.

There's something about anything that could be distributed as significance in this underrated little beauty, flourished world that runs about full of life and clarity, streaming with disparity, slow depreciating, and sometimes we're defeating the purpose of why we're unique, and we slowly take the filters out of our little selfie, loosing all this isn't healthy, and we diminish all signs of  any significance and we become as lifeless as a meteor, and I sometimes think "What is this for?" And then I simply sigh and take my sunglasses outside and stare into the sun, and wonder if anyone in the entire world has gotten off their iPhones or TVs and stared at the sun along with me.

There's something about how I feel when the little things get to me, like grades or dating drama, getting larger, more dramatic, oh it's such a ceaseless phlegmatic, and I sit at my stirring house and wonder how I can bear to live it anymore. But then I start to realise the person passing over is really staring us in the face and watching this world run in place. I'm not going to think about it anymore, it's all part of Earth's perpetual cycle, I'm not going to stop this utter nonsense now because it's time for me to go to my next class.

So many hope(less)
need something to change.
Expecting a difference,
but it's always the same.

Wanting to be better,
but only getting worse.
While you're wishing for much more,
and doing so much (less)

Living's tough, for the money(less)
when your freedoms are in chains.
And your non-existant happiness
is measured by how much you're worth.