It's midnight,
and my pen and I were wondering,
wondering if you see me in the same light,
as before,
reflecting in the same beautiful eyes,
as before,
read my poems with the same smile,
as before.

There are some poems I refuse to write,
hidden away,
but always presented to me,
in my search for inspiration,
The words are hidden
but on the tip of my tongue,
the feelings forbidden,
or simply ill advised,
for it has been so long,
since I've been honest with anyone,
including myself.

My favorite memories of us,
were never with you,
sleeping took forever,
cause I was dreaming of my lover,
planning a life ahead,
reminiscing of the day we met,
hoping I'd see you tomorrow,
knowing i'll need you tomorrow,
but one day the tomorrow never came,
never been so dependent on someone,
to be happy,
my favorite memory of us,
always used to be about you,
I miss being excited about love,
i miss dreaming of the girl that was mine.

Knowing you has been a song,
familiar silence,
as we become aware of existence,
but no form of friendship,
complete empty instrumentals,
the start of us.
beautiful vocals set in,
in anticipation of what's to come,
as I fell for your smile,
only then do lyrics form,
as our story unfolds,
our song isn't finished,
but it's so distorted,
so empty now.

Lantern through the mist,
lets me see the man at the foot of the bridge,
little to no effort to stop me,
for all who cross,
know the danger,
the price,
or simply have no choice,
under the lantern,
I stand next to the man,
who reeks of sad retribution,
and speaks of imprisoning freedom,
I take a step forward,
forward with no conviction,
so I go back,
with newfound respect,
fear and envy,
for those who crossed before me.

We all yearn for talent,
but the burden of potential is great,
the expectations of those around you,
can take you higher,
or drag you down,
so far that doubt takes over,
a beautifully cruel mistress,
poisoning you,
but it is the expectation you have,
of yourself,
that is fatal,
in my case,
if I don't make it,
I choose to die.