I see
Your wings fell off

Nothing I can't fix
My love

It's the morning
I have no dreams

I guess you're stuck with me

I'm never going to feel guilty

The day I do
I'll bleed

You made me cry
Cold tears
I don't know how

The voice in my head
Says you're mean
It's probably just me

I've been thinking what I need

Nothing matters
Nor do I

Only the sun
And the sky
The earth
The stars
And life

We don't matter
It's us against us
No ever wins
A game with no ending

I'll be sticking with
Me

It's morning I should sleep

When my friends think about drinking they see parties, and wild nights, and crazy hangovers

And when I tell them I never plan on letting a sip of alcohol touch my lips, they're scandalized

Because they don't understand

How could they ever?

When I think of drinking, I think of my mom passed out underneath our Christmas tree

Or my dad swerving down side streets with the smell of whiskey wafting off of him like smoke from a campfire

I see my childhood that came crashing down in front of my eyes

I see something that they will never understand

"I'm ugly" said the ugly man,
who enjoys poetry but doesn't
feel like there are any longer,
more beautiful words put
down by dead men that would
describe him more perfectly.
And to said poets romantic
disappointment; it did not pain
him anymore. As it never did.
And thus,
he is nothing to write further about.
The poem about the ugly man ends


here.

The moment we met you were infatuated. You were delusional with affection. The way I learned how to conjure words from the inner pits of lust and fondness created the illusion of something far more complex than love. The epitome of regret.

Your intellect was mesmerizing, which, I will admit kept me intrigued. How delicate your words were when the air left your lungs and your soul flooded the meaning before it captivated my attention.

With much repent I must admit that I loved you. The instant I became speechless it was not a romantic gesture. My lack of words mimicked the end of my adventure. I feared the demise. My apologies for not being the compassion that you were seeking for. You asked me why I could not love you. It was not that I couldn’t. There were simply no words that I have learned that could remotely express the endearment that my heart held for you.

The moment we met you were infatuated. You were delusional with affection. The way I learned how to conjure words from the inner pits of lust and fondness created the illusion of something far more complex than love. The epitome of regret.

Just admit it. I am only temporary.

I never understood how someone could drink

How someone could throw away their life for a single sip of whiskey

How they consumed what they knew could **** them

But then I'd lay in bed for hours on end

And those hours became days

Days became months

Months became years

A never-ending cycle of torment

And some way

Somehow  

I understood