my mind constantly cluttered with thoughts of us.
what we had, what we wanted.
but you took those thoughts, and made them razor blades.
every time i think of you, i’m cut, i’m cut so deep.
the blood is comforting, it’s warm.
just like your hugs.
the blood is sweet, like the taste of your lips, but it’s also bitter.
so bitter and so sweet just like you, my dear

Wake to sad mornings,
Sleep to sad nights,
View sad people,
See sad movies,
Kiss sad women,
Raise sad children,
Pass sad madmen,
Buy sad pets,
Watch sad films,
Hear sad music,
Cry sad tears,
Live sad years,
Pick sad flowers,
Write sad poems,
Keep sad tomes,
Hold sad woes,
Ache sad blows,
Justify sad truths,
Accept sad falsities,
Break sad objects,
Use sad drugs,
***** sad rugs,
Choose sad battles,
Swig sad bottles,
Play sad instruments,
Pray for sad religions,
Spark sad fires,
Keep sad lairs,
Attend sad funerals,
Notice sad cemeteries,
Die a sad death,
Fulfill sad fates.

Do all this, and you'll still be infinitely happier than some.

and here we are again.
in school i was told never to begin a sentence with and, but, maybe, however, because.
but here we are again
doing the the things we shouldn't.
maybe if we were older we would be wiser
like our parents or teachers, role models of every kind of failed relationship there is.
however i find hope in every bit of our disaster
you say we are two trains headed for a head on collision, but i dont care.
because i like the way you taste when we burn into flames
the teachers may have been right, but you break all my rules time and time again.

Remember we were gonna leave this city and make a life for ourselves. We were gonna dance and laugh and buy too many plants and listen to as much live music as possible and prove everyone wrong and kiss and hold hands and fall even more in love everyday. Remember when you promised that.

i love the feeling of falling in love with someone. it’s like i have strawberry fields growing in my stomach i don’t know.

I'm sorry you missed the day I came home.
I'm sorry you left my Mum all alone.
I'm sorry you missed the first time I walked.
And I'm sorry you missed the first time I talked.

I'm sorry you missed tucking me in at night.
I'm sorry you missed turning off my light.
I'm sorry you missed me getting my first fright.
And I'm sorry you weren't there to tell me it's alright.

I'm sorry you never really cared,
Never bothered to make a call.
In fact, I'm not sorry in the slightest bit.
I'm not sorry at all.

You should be sorry,
Sorry to me,
And sorry to all of us,
For what you couldn't be.

A Dad is supposed to love,
Protect, worship and care.
A Dad is supposed to do all of this,
But most importantly be there.

But you couldn't provide,
Protect or care.
You couldn't worship.
And you couldn't be there

Because you made the choice
To never try with me.
Sure, you're on and off now,
But it's just too late, you see.

I mean, I get it now.
And although this makes me sad...
You will always be my father.
You'll just never be my Dad

This isn’t a poem,
It’s a confession.
A confession of all the horrible things I’ve done.
1. I tend to break hearts of innocent people
2. I push people away that need me most
3. I lead people on
4. I give false hope
5. And lastly, I still love you.