in the morning
faces blurry faces
crossing my way
they sleep on the sidewalks
falling heavily from the skies
smiling at the ones they hate
flowers in their hair
and thorns in their hearts
will never let them go
but they try anyway
although they know it's hopeless
trying to be something they're not
even though it hurts
them and those around them
they keep on
because they have to
they have nothing else to do
nothing else to hope for
stories their stories
that will never be read
and songs of their lives
which we forgot as fast
as the wind blows
around the faces
the blurry faces
that cross my way
in the morning
after a hot cup of coffee
that we drink to stay awake
in the lives that bore us
because we don't know anything else
not that we didn't try to know
we did

Sometimes I feel like
I am not the me I'm
Supposed to be.
In the mirror there are eyes
Looking back at
A disguise someone
Else molded.
Even though you
Held me together
My soul was still
Severed and I can't find
All of the pieces
To make me remember
Who I was.
Before the scars on my
Heart made its beating
Erratic and before
Every song that I heard
Went from lyric
To static.
Before the touch of a hand
Made my blood run cold,
Before the sight of you
Started getting old.
While the thought of
Living without you
Makes my smile fade
A smile that I made
To oust the darkness;
Sometimes I wonder
What happened to the
Younger me that
Yearned to be free.

I write into spaces
And talk into holes
Writings are our faces
But words write our souls.

Sometimes I catch glimpses of tiny faces with hollow eyes that I can't see.
Passing at a distance through a nightmare as I sleep.
Their fleeting shadows draw me with them, to a place where lost tears weep,
for the forgotten souls of the missing children for whom desperate parents will always seek.