The purpose of this poem
Is to let you know that the pools of water
That form in the corners of my eyes
Are not as shallow as you think they are;

And besides,
People have died
From drowning in puddles.

Now darling, please,
Won't you bury your armor,
and let your shield down.
Your walls are to high,
for me to climb.
Like a wave, crush it,
what poisons your mind.

Now darling, please,
Let go of your worries,
they can only bring you harm.
Your shadows are too dark,
for me to see.
Your mask, hide it,
and show me those scars.

Now darling, please,
Let me take you home,
to the place only you and I know.
Your heart is too heavy,
for me to know.
My hand, take it,
and I'll lead you through.

Tragic characters in an empty theater
God doesn't watch us
God doesn't care
The passion we were born with fades to dust
With every cigarette we inhale so eager for our death
On the last night on Earth I will stand by your side
We can plunge to our death
In love,
You and I.

It's funny, looking at my hands after all this time.
They do so much for me, they are the tools that allow me to do much of what defines me.
So here they are, splayed out in front of my face.
And I am trying to convince myself of something.
That maybe if my hands were just a little bigger, a little wider, a little stronger I could stop it.
I could catch all your tears as they fell.
I could hold you up when you fall.
I could point you in the direction where things wouldn't be so **** awful.
I could grip the fears and terrors of  our day to day and
I could beat back the sadness.
But I have only got my hands.
And they seem a little inadequate for the job I need to do.
Because my hands only have so much surface area
And just like sand in an open hand
Sadness slips through my fingers
I want to carry the weight of the world on my hands, and give your shoulders a much needed rest.
God knows,
I have tried.
But ****, I am sorry.
Because the results seem to be a little lackluster.
I know that I can't stop the sad days, even more than I can create the happy days.
Just know that for you, I will spread my hands like the wings I was never meant to have
And share your burden.
You are not Atlas, Job, or Cain,
And I love you because of that.

You are never gone but forgotten,
As if you still glide by my mind,
Every night when I lay to go blind,
And every day to which I awaken,
You never cease keeping me shaken,
As if my desire for something like you,
Is something that is simply in me, imbued,
Certainly and powerfully confused,

And so I held a definite truth,
Destroyed to become a part of an imagination,
Sadly always more-so a fantasy of our youth

Now as we understand,
Plagued by truth,
The magic of naïveness,
Will always be

Gone but never forgotten

The walls were blue or
Maybe, grey and
Your eyes were brown
Your hair, the same
The music so soft
An echo in my mind
The hours drifted slowly
The worst passage of time

My voice, once sure
Now hesitant and shy
My heart, once pure
Now broken and dying
In the moonlight through the window
You looked at me like a ghost
As you told me, so cruelly
I was not the man you loved the most

Sunrise, sunset
Another birth, another death
A family, now separated
Daddy's gone, he never made it
As the light, fades to dark
The little boy, begins to walk
And wonders why his father isn't home
And cries in his room, all alone
And cries in his room, all alone