What do you do when you don't know what to say?
What do you do when your head tells you to stay but your heart says to walk away?
Who do you go to when things don't go your way?
Is it getting harder to get through the days?
Once you figure out the answers, there is only one question left to ask
What will you do differently today?

For years, you've asked questions
you can never seem to find the answer to.
"How do I make someone love me?"
"How do I know if my feelings are true?"
So tonight, I have a secret I'd like to share with you.
It's something not a lot of people know or know how to do.
The secret? Be you.
I know vulnerability is scary.
But true love gets its strength from the heart.
And if you can find the courage to be proud of who you are, you may not find love immediately, but it's a **** good place to start.

Ten thousand lights or more all strung upon the sky.
Have stood there every night as life has passed me by.
Never did they notice me as they stood their constant place.
Never with cause to note the lines that time drew upon my face.
Throughout my every year they have never changed at all.
Their radiant glow never faded upon night-times magic shawl.
They stand exactly where they were on the day I came to be.
And there too they will stand when time draws it's end to me.
My mind has often pondered why stars outlast us so.
And as the sand yet dwindles I wish it more to know.

1/2/20

Waiting for this is like watching someone,
Who’s struggling to lift heavy objects.
Knowing there’s work to be done.
But I’m defiant, as when a mob objects.

I see exactly what I dislike in me,
I guess, maybe I could toss it out.
Motivation comes so slowly,
But small steps are how you start.

So I’ll show you who I am,
But I’ll keep the darkest inside.
I’ll hold it back like the Hoover Dam.
Oh, how long can I go on looking dignified?

I’m in the middle of a drought,
In denial, I hold onto every drop.
Yet I haven’t figured it out,
That emotions aren’t meant to stop.

So I’ll give myself a chance,
I’ll give kindness a try.
I’ll surrender like France,
I’ll give into love and comply.

What is my own goodness?
But like a pile of wet leaves,
Or worshipping a false goddess,
Fruitless, like unsuccessful thieves.

Who am I? Who do I want to be?
I know who I was; I’m glad it’s in the past.
Yet these pains, I’ve gotten nowhere, you see?
Just when I thought I’d see the end at last.

When will I stop talking,
And move into danger’s range?
When will I stop writing,
And begin this wretched change?

Ivy prying sickly little patterns
Over weathered marble

Drying into autumn
Soured clover spitting flower fodder

Power living deeper
Seething stranger towers clouding water

River founding cities
Plowing fitting visions vowing honor

Dying in the streets
Among the leaf appearing from a gutter

Under marching clutter singing arbor into many others

****** if a murmur isn’t echoed further outing fathers

Bound to pass a burden
Surgeon scalpel serving hallowed daughters

Hours over eons
Over galaxies or galant parents

Drowning in a sea of turning time
Below the grinding planets

Finding little moments
Here and there
To stir the brewing panic

Signing every letter
Leather binding
Solemn coward banished

Given up already
Dreading answers only getting silence

Searching furrowed forest
Lurking treasures forming learned guidance

Breathy whispers egging
Empty guesses  pouring from the pious

Crying over constellations
Craven paper tiger liars.