So
here I lay in my bed, 7:55 in the morning
And I have to go to work at 9
just like all the days before
everything is the same
except you're gone
so in other words, nothing is the same
as the sun sets here and rises there
your days are endlessly filled
to the brim
yet mine feel so empty
it's the feeling of
standing on a train station platform
and watching the trains come and go everyday
mostly go.
so although I miss you more than I dare to say,
I know my train is coming soon
and then I know nothing will ever be the same
and it's scary
because maybe someday
we'll end up on the same platform
at that old train station
and I can't decide if it would be better
to see you again
nothing the same as it was,
or to keep you as a fond memory
in my head.

Falling.
they say that it’s exhilarating
like a fast car at midnight
cheeks aching from
the grin that couldn’t be held back
warm fingers laced between
the imperfections
forgotten
and yourself
found.

But
what if the car
crashes
and cheeks become tear stained
cold hands holding your own head
heavy with thought
and memories
lost and
broken.

I suppose
I’m yet to find a
fall
that seems worth all the
what if’s.

She takes her defeats silently
So as not to inconvenience the others
She keeps them inside
Because she is the happy one
But what happens when one looses their identity?                  
She is torn
Between
Resigning, done trying
Sad is what she's become
Or rising triumphant,
The return of the sunshine
That seems so distant in the meantime
Blocked by thunder clouds of something that could have been
And
loneliness
(Because although she is surrounded by friends                                
And people she loves
She takes the defeats silently.)