Lucky are those who have found love
and been loved.

Lucky are those who bear the gift of face.
   Easy is for them to find an easy case
            for their own taste
     - a goal for their own base.

Lucky are those who has an outstanding confidence.
For by it, they don’t live with a doubtful fence.
Freely as they get any wants in their existence.

I give away smiles, pieces of my lies,
        pretending not having rainy skies.
Hiding my Breathless sighs.

Sometimes I am like a rock
   too dull to feel, a surface too rough.
A sense I lost, an unreachable core,
I don’t know how to love anymore.



*© 2014 Pax

"Our song came on the radio yesterday and for the first time, I didn't roll down my windows or turn it all the way up or sing along. I forced myself to turn it off."
"I washed your sweatshirt after sleeping in it for so many nights so it wouldn't smell like you anymore and I boxed it up to put in the top of my closet, out of sight."
"Remember when we went to the beach and kept snapping photos? I finally burned them yesterday. I watched as the flames burned out, just like we did."
"Our anniversary passed, and I didn't feel empty like I did the month before. It only took me four months."
"I'm deleting your contact out of my phone so I won't feel tempted to text you when I lie awake at night thinking about what we used to be. I guess I'll be doing you a favor, seeing as you don't care about the past us like I do."
"I hope you're happy with her, because after all this time I'm finally happier without you."

I think I could love you till the stars we look up at stop twinkling
And the moon turns out its light.

i've got your picture
sitting on an empty shelf
it's been there for years
all by itself
i might  dust it off
every now and then
wiping at the memories
of the days when

i've got your picture
that sits by my bed
last thing i see at night
as i lay down my head
you'd think i'd dream of you
more often than i do
with all that i have left
being my dreams of you

i've got your picture
inside of my billfold
so when i'm out and about
i still have you to hold
it's a bit torn and tattered
much like my life
still i've got your picture
to remember you by

if energy cannot be destroyed or created,
than we have always existed
and we will always exist.

this is both a comforting and terrifying understanding of forever.

You are the dead air after the joke my friends don't get.
I hear your laugh in the spaces between my family's oblivion and my sanity,
the crevices of pointless conversations.
You are an envelope with no return address.
You are the first person I want to tell about my day.
When my dad asks me how school was, I can only think of how you knew never to ask me that.
They say the nights are hard when no ones in your bed,
but what about when you spend your day in bed because you can't bear another day of activities that don't involve them?
I don't miss you only at 2 am.
I feel the sting of you in the night but you burn me in the afternoons with even greater intensity.
I prefer to be alone because then I only see your smile embedded in my walls rather than the lack of it on everyone else's face.
You are the silence after Wonderwall ends,
you are the lack of " I want to write something like that one day".
I am reminded of you when the girl next to me at a Fall Out Boy concert is sitting on her phone. I know you would scream every lyric with me.
I think that's what hurts, the knowing, especially of the things you aren't here for.
When I cry to "I'm like a lawyer" it's because I will never hear your voice sing it again.
So no, I do not miss you at 2am.
I miss you at 2 pm when I realize that everything I am doing now will never again be done with you