Trying to find a place to cry.
How pathetic is that.

Not my house,
My family will ask.
Not my dorm,
My roommate will wonder.
Can't park in my car,
People will pull over.
(People are so ******* kind in that way).

So I'll drive.
And I'll cry.
Like a child
Who didn't get his way.
Which,
In a way,
Is fairly accurate.

But I need to cry somewhere.
The pressure is building up
In my head
In my heart
In the pit of my stomach.
Waiting there
To make its debut.

So I'll drive.
And I'll cry.
And I'll let it all out.
Because I want you
But he has you
And I didn't get my way.
And on second thought no,
Not like a child.  
A child is much more
Mature.

Because I won't apologize
For throwing a fit.
Because I still want you.
So I'll just drive for awhile.
And let it all out
On the road.
Throwing a fit
In my '91 Chevy.

I would let your fingers
into my shirt
to carve pictures
into my back
with your nails,
and I would guess
your drawings
as a game.
You would always veer
from the mole, but
sometimes you
would accidentally
scratch it;
I would
always apologize.

i'm sorry the world has hurt you
you are broken
you are tired
i understand this, dear.
you've been used
you've been hurt
and your colors have faded out.
you're not as alive
as shining, as wondrous
as you used to be, i suppose?
and i wish i could lift the world for you
and hush the voices in your head
bring back the life to your dying heart
and let you know
i would do anything for you

I broke your heart.
I made you cry…
Don’t you know that kills me?
In making my mistake, I hurt me
And I hurt you.
They say through your Mercy,
Your heavenly Grace,
Your sweet forgiveness,
I can be forgiven.
My nice white dress
Soaked in scarlet,
Bleeding crimson,
Can be clean again.
But how is that fair?
You died on the cross for me,
You let them drive crude cut nails
Into your gentle, loving hands.
With a crown of thorns upon your holy head,
They mocked you.
You cried in anguish,
“Take this cup from me…”
And bled from every pore.
I was up there watching.
Standing silently, doing nothing.
I watched you suffer for me.
I watched you pay for my failures,
My mistakes,
My weaknesses.
Why did you do that?
Because now, when it’s my turn to live,
My turn to suffer,
You don’t stand idly and watch me cry.
You hold my hand,
You dry my tears,
You give me strength.
Why?
Why have you done this for me?
You bled for me,
You cried for me,
You hurt for me.
Yet for my mistakes,
For the pain I’ve caused you,
All I can say is sorry?
“Sorry” can’t be enough…
Can it?
How can I walk away unscathed
While you bear my scars?

Angry words and vengeful tones
dripped like poison
from our lips.

We were both to blame.

But you said you're just human,
so it's okay.
What about me?

Aren't I human too?

You said it was all my fault,
but then you said
you loved me.

I don't understand.

Your words are salt in my wounds,
so I'll just say
I'm sorry.

But are you sorry?

it hurts me to know that there are people who just seem to refuse beauty.  to chase it.  to stir passion, create something of value.  to chip away stones into sand if only to prove it can be done.  to be breaking waves.