You forget.

You forget things
when you're truly sad.

Not the toaster on or the door unlocked,
Not the name of your ex,
Or the name of that guy you met last week.

Instead,
You forget deeply.

You forget how your dog looks at you,
And how much love he deserves.
How your mum's journey was harder than yours,
and how your brothers were too young
to be treated so old.  

You forget,
How your dad is aging 10 years
in the span of 1,
And how you've not been loving
who you need to.

You forget
almost everything,
because you're trying...
really trying,
just to stay alive.


And if you're (un?)lucky enough
to crawl away from the pits
of depression...

You suddenly remember.
It SLAPS you in the face
when you're left alone with your thoughts.

"How could I be so selfish?"

"How?"

"HOW?"

The guilt,
The guilt.
The guilt of forgetting how to care for others,
Of leaving so much destruction in your wake

Is
almost,
Just...
almost,

Enough to make you
Forget.

Oh here we go again, another scene another act,
I’ll fit in just fine but I know I don’t belong.
I’m grabbing my passions by the neck, beating them into who they need to be.

Everyone’s the same, we’re all actors in this play.
I never thought I could get away,
But I’m not trapped cause everyone’s the same.

To every poet
that turned misery to beauty
reality to fantasy
life into poetry
love into mystery
words into sorcery

To every poet whose
word on paper
is an invitation
to play with fire

Maybe I’m naive
Or maybe all the things I wish for can be achieved
The hate I have for you is shifty, I could never hate you completely
There are times when I get crazy but five minutes into it I get lazy
I don’t have the energy to keep the ******* up, you might see it as half empty but I see a half full cup.
In all honesty the drama makes me choke and at the end of the night I hope we can laugh it off like a joke.
Some would say I’m too forgiving yet unrelenting.
I have a soft heart but please don’t let me start.
I don’t like myself when I’m angry, there’s so much more love can free
Anger puts you in a cage, nothing drags you down more than rage
Love let’s you breathe, pushes you to be the best you can be.
When I look at you I see passed the mean charade,  and see you for what you are.
The man I fell in love with, the sweet gentle lover. You haven’t been that man for so long now, he seems like a myth.
You have so much hateful **** to say, I wish I could just shut you up when I tell you it’ll be okay

I ****** the stage with silence so the audience anticipates the articulation of words that soon spill out of my mouth.

The show lights blind my eyes so all I can see are headless ghosts sitting in rows, neatly compact in a spiritual communion.

My mind stutters, body shudders, yet the line is plain to see as it was painted on my lips - ready to perform, ready to be spoken.

Narration courses through my lungs to produce cornered speech, creating an introductory-zone for the others to encroach behind me

And there we were, separated into our own character beams while I stood with shallow confidence at the forefront.

Though I'm not a main lead,
or a side character,
or a set piece,
I am the narrator.
I carry the weight of the story,
And I carry the ears of those who listen.