Of whether or not pain is even a feeling,
she’s not sure anymore.
And if it ever differs in some way from love,
she doesn’t have a clue.

He is not just handsome
or tall or undeniably perfect.
Because more than anything else,
he is hers.
All along.
Ever since.

heartbreaks like bad breaks
make bad days feel like fate
heartbreaks like new wounds
for more hope to heal soon
heartbreaks like inmates
that do time for mistakes
heartbreaks like small snakes
with fear there but it's fake
heartbreaks like brown dirt
with brown eyes and more hurt
heartbreaks like old men
with old lessons and new men
heartbreaks like better days
that move on in better ways

Excited as I wait the kiss
Of twilight in the vast blue sky.
Rush of exhilarating bliss
To my soul a fuel to fly.
Blood to my veins, nerves to my brain
Power to move and mind to think
Waiting....


The darkness awarded my patience
Tonight i shall gaze her presence.
Disturbing emotion never
Before so near to touch and bear
Waiting....


This awful night she never came,
Not even her hair or shadow
I stood there waiting hurt and lost
Like a weak fool a lonely ghost.
Bewildered, this night is freezing
Tired and weary, I'll sleep thinking
.....

If I were to describe how moving on feels,
I’d liken it to a rehabilitation center
that broke me down
until I wasn’t even sure what to believe in anymore.
It made me doubt my passion,
and turned it against me,
until all that’s left was deep seated bitterness,
and the feeling of utter betrayal.
After a while, I thought I was cured.
But then, the withdrawal kicked in,
and I found myself consumed
by an intense longing.
I can’t recall how many times
I’ve been told to go back,
but each visit was always as miserable as the last.
And now I don’t feel like going back anymore,
since the medication doesn’t work at all.