I am not crazy,
Though the voices inside my head would prove other wise,
I am not lazy,
Though I would rather stay indoors than go outside,
I am not sad,
Even though I can easily think myself into depression,
I am not mad,
Even though your cruel words can are a constant suppression
I am just me.
A teenager growing up.
Wishing, I had that extra bit of luck.

Palm of hand touching hair touching cheek touching
you for the first time
Lend me your hips like
a sweet favor
I will teach this body rhythm and
the music of us will echo into
the bricked walls, syncing together melodies of
contact, electrical wire sparking in this blood, your
heart beating its way out of chest,
the softness, a catalyst for fire, I almost
swear I can hear the air particles kissing,
speaking, they are singing,
closer, closer

"gravity, is working against me"

the dark means nothing without
a glow under covers and
wrinkled sheets holding us eager, silent learning,
don't let go just yet,
we are falling,
falling
further into each other,

"just keep me where the light is."

I think the only way you can really see yourself is through someone else's eyes
It doesn't matter who's eyes you look through
Weither or not they be the love of your life
Or the bane of your exsistence
It just matters if they see you
Because if they do
Then all you need to do is look through and see you for you,
Because apparently, it's everyone else who knows you better then you do
And they are the only eyes that will ever look at you clearly

the heavy heart is a heathen
corrupter of better nature
committer of soul-treason

fueled by the miserable notion
that death is twilight
and life is dawn

to flight, to flail
to rage, to rail
to weep, to wail
to no avail

to unhope

and all of this minus the mercy

©Jason Cole

I will swallow poison before I admit that I miss you
Though it is a woeful truth
I cannot bear to say it out loud
I think back on the time you once said you loved me but came to later find I was far too heavy to keep carrying in your pocket
I did not fit as well as I should have
I still do not understand the way you think
But I hope you think of me often
Remind yourself of our song we listened to on repeat
Ponder on the feeling of my fingers sliding into yours
Funny how easy it was for them to slide away
A light breeze could separate them
Lately I have been bending my fingers backwards until they break because I am slowly realizing I am incapable of holding on to things anyways
I swore I would still be standing by your side right about now but something happened somewhere along the way and I watched those plans disintegrate in the palm of these fragile hands
I will not admit that I miss you, though I dreadfully do
What I fear most however,
Is that you will wake up in the middle of the night missing me
And it will be far too late