I've known you for years
We're best friends
There are so many bad ways
that this nightmare could end

When we first met
you said not a word
Yet somehow, even then
something in my heart stirred

As we grew older
we began to get close
Never thought you could like me
a miracle, I suppose

I can't do this without you
not anymore
My heart breaks a little
when you walk out the door

I don't really trust
I tend to put up walls
But you make me feel safe
so I tell you it all

WHY CAN'T I RHYME UGHHHHHH

...



Why
do
I
always
fall
in love
with the ones
I can't
have?

It's the story of my life:
Passionate love,
but doomed from the start.
Inevitably, we
drift
apart.

I lose the friendship
I was
clinging to,
believing that this pain, I will never lose

I cry
a lot
and write a few songs,
and then,
after a while,
I just
move
on.

But not
you.

...

I swore to myself I wouldn't do this again. But this is different. We've known each other for such a long time. We're best friends! And this wasn't a stupid "fireworks moment", but an attraction built on long-term trust and adoration and friendship. THIS IS NOT A POEM

...

Words cannot describe what I feel for you. Maybe I'll try again later, when I'm not so tired, and the words flow easier
(If that will ever happen)

little
boat
floating idly
in the dark waters.
brilliant blue
(wait, why is it blue?)
drifting, no anchor to
protect it

missing
home
its origin
but alas,
it is too
far
away

far
away
black waters
royal blue

lost
little boat
without a crew or captain
to keep it
company

lonely
skiff
wishing for a
friend
a companion
someone to
rescue it
from the midnight
sea

deep
ocean chill
seeping through its wood
until it thinks
it will
never
be warm
again

weary
traveler
wondering
if there's
one
friendly face
amid the
bloodthirsty sharks
of its waters

little
boat
giving up
drowning
slowly
beautiful blue
lost at sea
cried for help
but no one
came

I dress for combat
because I want to be prepared for anything

I dress for combat
and remember the time when I was carefree

I dress for combat
though I know more than anyone that I'm way better at
hiding than fighting

I dress for combat
ignoring how strange I've been acting recently

I dress for combat
and love the way paranoia feels on my body

I dress for combat
because I don't know why,
but I just know it's going to come in handy one day

Your blood
all
over
me.
Will it ever be enough?
to satisfy?
Cold steel
of the knife
you tried to use
to stab me in the back
covered
in a warm
sticky substance.
Yours,
not mine.
I turn it over
in my hands
as I watch you
bleed out
on the
crimson
tiles.
Why did you think
it would be any
different?

Exhaustion
weighs heavy
on me
all I want to do
is sleep,
yet I can't seem to
turn my mind off
(even more than usual)
haunted
by thoughts
pain
lethargy
and total mind-block.
I feel like I'm
dying
and interactive daydreaming
has never been
so easy
(I am not my paras)
I'm scared
that the blanket
of delirious
melancholy
and
moribundity
will
never
leave

Do crazy people even know they're crazy?

Or do they just drift through insanity oblivious
to their own undoing?

If that's the case,
what about people who
think they're crazy?

Are we just
paranoid
overthinkers?

Are we only
eccentric
because we are
afraid?
Or is there something more
buried far below
that we
need
need
need
to see,
but at the same time
are scared
to find
out

And
on the other
hand,
what if
we're
right?

How are we to know?
How are we to trust our mind
to tell us we can trust our mind?