I'm here sitting
alone,
the smell of coffee runs through
my veins,
some music I probably will forget
playing in the background
In a few years I'll be arguing with
the thought of you,

But I'm here,
I am here,
writing about what's happening

pretty boring right?

I call myself a poet
but I can't use simple metaphors,

I call myself a poet
but I can't describe exactly
how you make me feel

I call myself a poet
BUt I'm not so...
what am I?

I'm just a kid
scared of life and the dark
finding new ways to cope
searching for someone to love,
desperate,
not holding unto my dreams
how can I choose with my mind
what's right for the heart to choose.

And you see?
Don't you see?

don't worry I can't see it either

I can't see how I am
I can't see how other people see me
I wish I could.

I want to believe this was a dream
or
a nightmare at that.

But at last.
I'm here wishing that in another life
I could be with you,
or
maybe in other deaths,

I wish to be there
I wish to see what I can't
with coffee waking up my senses
like a kid in summer waking up early
to go play with his friends.

I wish things were different,
so I wouldn't have to wish anymore