In Seattle from a hotel windowsill
one can speculate the faults of those
who roam the wasteland below,
only they know
but the darkened alleyway will tell
their story just fine.
There’s a homeless woman who looks down-
right ready to cry when she receives leftovers
and I sit there and ******* hate myself
because I can’t live up to my own expectations.
Seattle is just the excuse really.
There’s a little girl playing on the stairs
who falls but is not defeated
she says it just takes some practice
and in that moment I love her.
Part of me wants to say hold up,
how did you become so smart;
and part of me wants to hold up
a knife to my chest, just to keep something close.
I know I wouldn’t use it that way
I’m a ******* coward and maybe
that’s what brought me here in the first place.
Not to Seattle, but to the windowsill,
where I speculate the faults of those
who call this wasteland home.

You don't even know you failed your spiritual test?
Treated me like one of your side projects –  left unfinished
You were surprised to find my self worth undiminished
You only devalued yourself and now your charade is finished
So take off on some other vision quest

You'll never even see how much you were blessed
Given so much more than you deserve
You could've had it all if you'd found the nerve
To keep the true course instead of swerve
Break promises and pretend you've done your best

Tore open my eyes and showed me you're no better than the rest
Just another coward claiming to be strong
And you proved to me that my heart was wrong
For my fire in your cold world cannot belong
You're not the hero I deserve and I won't settle for less!

I haven’t slept in 2 years. I haven’t eaten in 5, I’m not lying.

People lie everyday. “Little white lies” we call them. They mean nothing at all. It won’t hurt anybody. What could possibly happen if I told a lie?

Some people are bad liars, and some lies are just bad.

I’m not a bad liar. But people just don’t believe me when I say anything. Everything I say becomes a lie in another person’s ears, they won’t listen.

So if I tell bad lies on purpose will anybody notice? I’ll mix up the truth with bad lies and see if people can tell the difference.

I’ve never broken a bone, I’ve never been drunk, I’ve never forgotten a birthday. Do you know which statement is true? And which one was the lie?

I’ve been sick for 10 years, my IV is made of tears, my cereal tastes like regret, I’m not lying.

I’ve forgotten my own name, I forgot where I came from, I left my consciousness on the bus. I’m not lying.

It’s very easy to ignore an obvious lie, when you know the truth. But I’m not lying…

My heart is broken, my dignity stolen, and my future is no more. I’m not lying.

My friends are gone, along with my dad and mom, my sibling disappeared. I’m not lying.

My chest hurts, my ribs are shattered, and as for me. Well, there’s not a lot of me left. I’m not lying.

I can’t stop myself from constantly running away from the truth, lies are just so much easier to tell.

They say the truth sets you free…
Ok… Let’s try again.

The poem is filled with lies, some of them easier to say than others. But I want to start telling the truth now.

I want to start this poem over. I want to be better than this. I know I’m better than this… And maybe you can hear it in my voice. But I promise. I’m not lying…

Regret all you want
You'll always remember and
I'll never forget

I don't want to be a coward.
I want to be strong
but it's hard when I don't know what to say
(everything I can think of feels wrong
and I struggle to picture in my mind a real conversation with you,
because I'm scared.)

I blow air into the balloon in my chest
and look across at you
but as my eyes smile and try their best to be honest
I deflate and it seems I can't get through
the thick, grey doubt
clouding my judgement.

I want to tell you that I care
about you and your smile and the way
it paints a crease on your chin
but sometimes I struggle to say anything
that could even so much as doodle an expression
on those familiar features.

Perhaps you are having thoughts quite similar
when you lie down to sleep.
And when you wake early
to go for a run - while your feet
put distance between us - I wonder
if your thoughts pull me closer.
I don't know.

Honestly, these dramatic words don't feel right to me.
They don't suit you
like I want to suit you.
They don't match the pure, honest truth, which is that
I think you're unique.
You're talented and beautiful and you bring me joy.
You're cute and quiet and strong and bold
and I hope that very soon I'll be able to speak some of this to you properly.
You probably know half of it already, and
it makes me twice the coward, that I haven't been able to speak directly to you what has already been said  in every vague hint and stare and hug and simpering compliment that I've passed your way.
I really want to be strong.