Replay or restart;
Stop or pause;
Skip or fast-forward;
Where do you opt to be?

True love seeks a silent place,
A peace of unburdened voice,
Where lovers speak face to face
Without the past’s background noise.

Experience digs a pit
Crumbling love’s foundation,
For two lovers must commit
To a brand new creation.

Lessons learned in agony
That true love should leave behind
Are the cruelest irony,
And so hard to leave behind.

May I take sandpaper
And use the rough edges
To scrape away
Each memory and thought
Till only lessons remain
From time spent with you

l.v.s

Call it what you want
Surrender, retreat, apathy...
Perhaps it's nothing more than total disgust
And irreconcilable ​loneliness
She wants to go where someone gives a ****,
But no one does
And the boys are better off without the image
Of her fading slowly away in spirit
To die while one is still alive is more heinous a thing than to drop out of a race that you don't believe in, and never signed up for in the first place
Whatever the prize is, it can't be as good as the freedom of not having to go mad trying to protect oneself from the bitterness of their ugliness or the shallowness of their greed
And walking away from them doesn't help either
She's too ****** up to enjoy normalcy and too damaged to ever feel like she really belongs
She'd rather start over, and leave the jackals to feed amongst themselves, and the insects to writhe about, blindly in the dark
She might have felt differently, had they never lied to her about how much they loved...

Dust by dust and word by word
You formed me from the walk-able earth..
Reforming the wind while turning it into breath
The very first milestone beaten with the very first step..
The garden giving the eyes something to see
Some type of solace born into simple majesty..
Making the ground good for walking
The same way syllables are proving grounds for talking..
Everything new without the need to begin again
And it’s all-overwhelming given the wealth to take in..
A brand new world

"Brand New World" -JP

the sky was stained purple and green- ghastly hues-
leaving me with a very unclean feeling
unfurling on my palms.
I wanted to wash it away-
the colors were becoming one now
(the kind of mysterious brown mothers pulled their children from peering at on mown lawns)-
and have a canvas pure as the first hour snow falls over weary towns.

it was harder than I thought it would be.
it involved scrubbing away the lights when aiming for the darks;
too much muddled together to pull apart the best, beautiful parts,
too much of a mess I should’ve noticed earlier when
I picked up my paintbrush and decided to spread my existence
out and out and out-
too much to pull back now, anyways.
too much but I don’t regret
anything
for I pulled out my soul
and spun my paintbrush around in it collecting
deep pigmented blood stains and tear drops and soft hugs.

only then did I begin to understand
my twisted self- when
brush touched world.

A little less
Than a year ago
I picture you:
Your leg wrapped
Around my torso
And propped up
By my hand;
I have a purse,
a drink, and you
adorning my body
Hanging onto me
I am small
You are smaller
A cigarette
Dangles
From your
Left fingertips
Coffee and
Champagne
On your lips
We both wear crowns
Atop
Our seemingly
Stubborn smiles
Happiness
Will not
Relent
I have known
You
For so long
Now
Almost half
Our little lives
Tonight,
I am proud
Of you
It is New Years
You haven’t drank
Too much
You know
This year
Will be a good one
Enough
To tell me so
Enough
For me
To believe
In you
Again
Already
Making changes,
Setting promises
Nothing is the same
Since you
Came home
Two Augusts
Ago
Tonight,
Had never before
Fulfilled
Its cliché promises
But as of tomorrow
We have our chalkboard
Of rainbow colored erase marks
At midnight,
We get to Start
Anew