You handed over the pieces
of your life without hesitation
your breath, your time,
your love,
because that’s what you thought love was.
Not once did you think to keep
anything for yourself.
You reached in and revealed
these pieces of yourself over time,
wrapping them in your skin,
your time, your love.

I didn’t need all the pieces
you gave me
those you gave because you thought it was love.
I won’t let you do it.
I cannot.
Regardless of how much you give,
if I am hungry, I will not take
without replenishing what is given.
If I am thirsty, I will not bathe
what is barren in excess.

I, too, will hand over the pieces
of my life,
because, as hard as it is to accept,
the truth is we do not truly own anything.
just enough to feel the space
where the years seem to fly by.
You handed over the pieces
of your life,
and I promise to care for and love them,
because I believe it’s something you just do

I started to text you but it was late.
My heart made me feel like it just couldn’t wait.
There’s been so much silence between us yet my mouth has so much to say.
Hiding how I feel within because it’s not like you care anyway.
Random meme’s on IG remind me that it’s time to let you go.

How can I just ignore you?

I don’t know how to put on a show.
My feelings for you are so real.
I wish you’d be vulnerable first and tell me how you feel.
Cause right now my “too much pride”is all in the way.
If I let these walls fall down baby I’d beg you to stay.
Are you on the other end erasing unsent messages too?
Maybe you’ve dialed my number & hung up before you could express “I love you.”

Will our egos be our ultimate demise?

I can only sit here and hope that you somehow hear my cry….

Don’t let go.

I’ve had times in my life that make me unworthy.
I’ve committed acts that make people what to swerve me.
Knowing what I know now,
and if I could do back to the days of early,
Would I still be so undeserving?
Or would the world serve me?
Would I be a king?
Or just another urchin?

Worrying about it now will never serve me.
So I try to make my future work for me.
Push on forwards, keep on fighting.
Maybe one day I will do the right thing.
And if I don’t at least I tried,
I’ll be able to say that on the day I die.

And like that she became wet.
******* before she bathed in the storm.
Umbrella left home, by the door.
She wanted to be cleansed.
Clothes thrown to the side.
Where's the fun in being dry.
To rush every moment that craves to be moist.
Splashing in puddle after puddle.
The Infatuation of being free.
The depth of being caught in a portrait just before it drys.
Covered in layer after layer of heavy blue.
A foam of white.
A kiss that quenches every thirst.
Our lips the brush that sops the wetness.
Forever more.
To purposely be caught without an umbrella

In monumental testament.
I grabbed a bottle and began to fill it with notes.
In times where reassurance was needed most I replaced the contains of the bottle with thoughts.
Unable to speak in a time where actions proved to speak louder.
Hesitant eyes that waited for reply. Drawing a blank where silence seemed ideal.
On one of the notes I drew a ship on the front and back of it. Sliding it in the middle of the bottle.
Shaking the bottle up and down, I watched it shift back and forth in wave after wave of loose strips of paper.
Rough torn edges, uneven chunks of paper.
Considering myself human for the most part. Taking a minute to walk across the shore.
Watching a ship sail it's maiden voyage.
Blue lines, the smell of paper.
The sound of waves crashing against the sides of the ship.
Sitting down along the side of the shore. Watching a ship caught in a storm of paper.
Reassuringly gathering my thoughts.
The ship drawn perfectly, setting sail across the depth of the bottle.
Leaned upright, splashing down on one note or another.
Following my first mind I sat the bottle on a stack of books.
I still wasn't ready to talk

Who are you when you're alone? Who are you when you're surrounded by people? Who are you becoming?

Are you listening to all the voices in your head? Are you the same person in the daytime versus the night?

When you look up at the sky, do you see blue or do you see gray? When you look in the mirror, do you see beauty or do you see shame? Do you ever notice the differences between the person you were yesterday & the person you are today?

Can you remember the last time you went out & didn't get wasted? Can you say you spend more time on your phone than in your own embrace? Can you even recall the last time you woke up happy?

Tell me, who are you when no one else is around? If you're honest with yourself, you'll realize we all have parts of us that are frail & broken. That's one thing we'll always have in common. If you come in contact with someone who tells you anything different, run.

I'm not afraid to share my story, neither should you be. **Life is freely given to us by grace not by privilege. Don't ever get that twisted.

My wounds go deeper then the ones on my wrist
My scars hurt more than the blood on my wrist
My tears won't fall, I'm emotionally conflicted
While inflicting this pain is my most sincere addiction
It hurts so much, I just want to cut deeper
Bleeding out, awaiting the arrival of the reaper
Scars so deep, I no longer care to smile
Wishing I could slip away for a while
To fade away, leave my troubles behind
Only if the voices in my head were as kind
Wishing for the time my body decays
That is when I live my final day
When family and friends all beg me to stay
Most importantly its when my scars fade
AWAY