Why is it that even if someone breaks my heart I'll take them back? You could hurt me over and over but I'll be holding the door wide open the next time, no matter how much I cry or how angry I am, I'll forgive it all for a chance at the good times. People call me strong but actually I am so weak I cannot support myself, I act so fake like nothing hurts me at all but inside I struggle to breathe as I am drowning in my own hatred, I cry and try to stop but everyone thinks it's a joke since I'm happy the rest of the time, I write down my feelings which are true in the form of poetry but everyone thinks it is just an expression so they don't worry.

That is both an advantage and disadvantage of being a writer, I could write all my deepest and most sincere thoughts, and everyone will think it's merely a beautiful poem.

Is it not?

i can't do anything more
from this point on
you do whatever you're doing
and all i'm going to do
is smile

questions? comments?
save em

im sick of this ****

You know when you create this image in your head
Even though you don't want to
Because you're afraid of how you'll feel when that image completely shatters?
And you know that it will because that's just not how things are.
It's how things could be,
But probably not how they will be.

Listen if you please
to my twisted soliloquy
I’m not from around here
I’m just rumors on a breeze
I come from afar
some say the mountains
others the stars
like an absent friend
you will remember me I promise
or else your names Thomas
mine is Adam the first
I am the atoms that burst
the very fabric of being
the fabric of genes
denim, denial, destiny, defile
I've been here a while
and I will be here a while longer
even though I don't belong here
the oceans don't know my depths
the mountains have not reached my peaks
all these beliefs I have not kept
for there is something greater that I seek
but I cannot utter its name
some may call it love
but that has garnered too much fame
for you've mistook love for what is fake
because it's not something you can take
it's as simple as a breeze
the same that carried me
yet unlike I it has no needs
it's as full as the oceans
and tall as the mountains
I had the notion
that I could just pen
write my own legend
but that too must END

You are just a fiend,
masquerading
as an angel.

And I am a Saint,
who is being mistaken
for the devil.