as i sat and pondered about my future
our future
i became lost in the alternative outcomes
too busy daydreaming to realize what was really occurring

(a.b)

i scroll through
the symptoms;
the signs once more
finally screen-shotting them
only so i do not have to keep
looking and re-looking
them up

i rummage through the very
personal box of writings
hidden under my bed
i find the paper
with the heading of:
How I See Me, How I Am
following the undepthed title
is a list of short, spiked written words,
words that, all though so very short, mean so much
and ache even worse

down to the bottom of the list my finger skims
my eyes scattered throughout the words
and my tears scarring the paper
finally at the the bottom
i grab the pen and finish the list
with one simple word

depressed

(a.b)

the sun;
it rises
it lowers
and it has it's light stolen
from the moon.
of all of them
you'd never think it
to be
the moon
to do such a thing.
steal ones light
and takes it's fame
fore with the moon comes
sadness and there is more
sadness than there is joy.

(a.b)

the moment i met you,
i just knew
we'd be much more
than acquaintances.
but from what id gathered,
i still had much in store.

the meeting of you
has changed my life
in the most dramatic point of view.

it seems,
still to this day,
that there was no middle man.
we went from strangers to best friends.
not a moment dull or grey.

but what still shocks me to have known
is that from then to now,
we have grown.
dont ask me how
for i never thought it possible
to have someone so close.
yet we seem to blow my
previous theories and thoughts away
each passing day.

(a.b)

sometimes
i just feel like
the only way they'll
see me
is if my skin is stained red.

(a.b)

here i sit
writing to you, my friend,
with my wrist slit.

ive finally done the deed
and a goodbye
is in much of need.

i didnt want to go
without a single goodbye
but i sat and pondered
as to who i should write to.

with the blood gushing
and thoughts slowing
your name came to mind
so now im writng and rushing.

i only have moments left
not that youd care
for you stole my heart in theft.

you had no intentions to give
it back without any wounds
so here i sit not wanting to live.

goodbye my old friend.

- a. m. b.

i discovered my definition of love
much the way ben franklin did electricity;
it hit something so far up and it nearly killed me,
yet it was so bright and brilliant.

(a.b)