I have learned,
people leave you
cold and broken
like my youth
and the only thing
that will ever stay
in my life
is that pen
and that pad of paper.

because my sanity
means more to me
than pleasing others
and my sanity
can only stay
if that pen and pad
are next to me

so take away my
so-called friends
lost inside
never empty pill bottles
and always empty
bottles of sorrow
and remind me why
this is what i cling to.

this is my far few in between
this is my light
at the end
of a never lit tunnel.
This is where misery
and it's company
join hands and dance
in the moonlit
darkness of the past.

The only thing
I've ever held close to me,
was anger and resentment
for those who i'm supposed to love
I find fatal flaw
where there isn't any
I look for wrong
in those who try to do me right
which is why I write.
because the only form
of therapy available to me
costs sixty bucks an hour
and that hour
holds more secrets
than my mind
will allow me to speak.
So I bleed ink
and hope that some sense
of relief
flows through my fingertips
like the weight upon my shoulders

and the only thing
worth fighting for
in my eyes
are the things
that are fighting with me.
Which is why people
come and go.
But blank pages
are always meant to be filled.