it feels like,
life
is of 3 three things.
You get hurt,
and they walk away fine.
they get hurt,
and you walk away guilty.
or occasionally,
not common.
and rarely to ever happen,
you both,
walk away forcefully
knowing that you both have torn each other's heart
apart.
knowing that you truly want to be together,
but it's not worth It.
and now you both, are hurting.

The world is 8 billion strong.
That number growing every day.
So please believe and understand what I mean when I say that some people
will always have it better,
and some will always have it worse.
That doesn't make your struggles any less valid.
You don't have to feel guilty for being human.

Some people can wait
     Before they die;
Hold on for a loved one
     To say Good-bye.
To have one more Spring,
     Or any Season,
For Love or Closure,
     This we reason.
Now many can leave
     This coil of doubt,
Guilty they heard,
     On all thrity-four counts.

It seems like it's getting harder to know
if it's OK to say or do something these days. Maybe it's because I'm getting older.
Maybe it's because I care more.
Regardless of why, I must admit I find myself somewhere between sad and scared.
Sad and scared that I can't keep up.
Sad and scared that I'm slowing down.
Maybe you are too. If that's the case,
I'll tell you what I've been telling myself
when I feel this way: it's healthy to be sad.
It's healthy to be afraid.
And if you're being healthy,
you don't have to feel guilty
or let it ruin your day.

I've been caught
In a spider's web
Guilty as charged

in the end, I am declared
guilty

to be free from the chains of contrivance
to finally rely on noble companions
from facade to its truths
born flowers will bore fruit

to be requested release
and to forever deny its reprise

to be loved, and finally to love
and matters not that never mattered
past chains perish, and the future followed
as warm as the sun
forever cursed to bear the fervor

to be chained,

to be denied and drought
as I have done to he
as the moon without its sun

at the start, the only crime committed
was being me

My guilt is starved and it’s begun eating me alive
This sick feeling in my empty stomach is the lack of truth I can confide
The distractions aren’t distracting from the thoughts inside my mind
My guilt is unsatisfied and it continues eating me alive