Thunderstorm

Hurricane

Rain falling on

My window pane

Crying screaming

Taking blame

Heart is hurting

Feel the shame

I can’t escape

All the pain

Don’t know how

I’m even sane

The crocodile, left questioning his own tears,
he never saw the malice in his breath,
he sobbed "I haven't eaten for a month now"
as you walked willingly into your death.

Honestly,
I think we're all monsters
and we all have an excuse why
and whatever it may be
it's not a real excuse.
It's easy to get by
with a sense of validation,
as long as you feel justified
in your own mind.
I know we can't let what others think shape us,
but is it so horrible to once blame ourselves?
We all have choices to make,
and no one is truly obligated...
Honestly,
I can only blame me
for the choice to walk this path.
All the eyes on me, scrutinizing me,
it makes me want to feel shame,
but regardless of what they see
I need to do good by me.
I don't want to lay any blame
where it is not called for,
because we're all monsters wanting change
and we all have a reason to stall for.
I'm going to look in the mirror,
and tell you who is to blame,
honestly.

I find it easy to commit to someone...

perhaps that's part of the problem.

What more have I to offer, what more have I to give?
what more can I be blamed, what more have I to live?
In these tasteless times of wasted days, how dark the fire burns
among the ashes of compassion, I rest; my time is done
What more have you to offer, what more can you deceive?
no more will you be blinded by the lies that you believe
still, still as stone, you move with wind no more
still, still as stone, your eyes have gone so sore
what more is there to witness here where time is always still
some more before the water bows down to fire's will
in these ageless times of wasted lives, so cold the darkness burns
with the corpses of my thoughts and fears, I rest; I rest as one

I'm staring at a blank page because
There are no ways to express these emotions
Towards you.

My tongue
Can't cut through and
The venom from my words can't
Make you see reason.

I guess that's what it is.

I get so frustrated
With the fact that
You aren't mine
That I turn to violence.

I want to physically and emotionally hurt you
As much as you're hurting me right now
But nothing I do or say can outweigh this pain...

So I'll flip the page,
Let my blood ooze from this pen
To tell this book everything that I
Could never tell you.

Im in love with you.

Maybe it's the old you
Because I don't really know you
But I'm in love
With what we used to have.

I'm angry with you
Because you let me let you
Slip through
My fingers.

I hate you

Because you never let me appreciate
All the things you did for me from
The way you would look at me
To the way you would touch me.

How your Nobel finger tips
Would caress me too gently like I would break
To digging your pads into my skin
As if I would slip away...

But I did.

I guess you didn't hold on tight enough.

All this time I've been blaming you
For not loving me enough when
In theory you loved me too much but
I never looked at it that way thinking that I could never be loved.

Yet now the tables have turned because
I NEED you
And you're fine in your own.

All I really need is an answer.
Why don't you love me anymore?

What I'm realising now is that it was Always you
That I would throw the blame onto always
Your heart that I would rip at

I'm sorry for being an evil *****
But I'd rather thrown the blame than face
Reality:
I'm the reason you don't love me.

My actions are what caused you to
Loose your loving grasp.
My self satisfaction
Made you leave.

I'm the only one hurting,
I'm the only one in the wrong.

I love you
But now is too late of a time
To tell you.
I'm still in love with you.
                                                      ( K R W)

My fault.*

All my fault.

Dear, god, it really was all my fault.

The realization--

The mere thought--

is eating me alive like a forest fire.


(d.d.b)

You and I, our
skin singed by pride
as we reach into the
abyss of the other’s
insecurities, finding
flaw in logic, solace
in higher volume,
our voices become
storms our minds form
one blind, blind drive
to fight and be right
while the fire burns on
underneath our flame-
kissed flesh, paper
bodies fueling the
furnace that eats
itself alive.