Do I really know what the light is?
I have peered up into the stars
And saw them glowing ever so brightly
But have I felt the light to it's fullest?

I have seen people bathe in the light
Some literally living in the light
But do I really know what the light looks like?

An incomprehensible amount of people
They know the light inside and out
Yet I am so incompetent to understand
I have felt the light with my fingertips
And claim I know all about the light

I found a star
A star willing to give me a shine of her light
I felt her light shine upon myself
But than I got scared and ran
I ran from her light

Although I missed the light
The light I barley got to feel
I miss it because I burnt her out
Burnt her dry and gone

Do I know the light?
The light I had
But burnt out?
I've seen the light for ages
So I just turned my light dim

Dim - dim
I sat near the rim
Sitting there looking very grim
I looked back and took a skim
A skim down memory lane

I held her light
She did not want to fight
I wanted to hold her light longer
But it was to late
Because I had burnt her out

Do I really know the light?
I should have known
Known of my incompetent mind
I should have taken the time
The time I could have used and learnt
To learn all about the light

Death is not the greatest tragedy,

Great tragedies begin
Where stories don't end,
In death, or in life;

In life - "what might have happened?"
is the slow poison that wears
us down, with hearts heavy
and hollow, waiting for answers
'till death.

And death is not the greatest tragedy.
Life left incomplete is.

Late night. Footsteps.
Crane necks and girders.
Fog lifts. The wind cries.
Steel bones in moonlight

                        I'm out
                      so late now
and it's Sunday night and Summer's ending
                         soon.
I'm aging
                                          with questions
fermenting in my mouth
ignored for years

Fenced off. Unfinished
project shelved and waiting
                     for next Spring.

Cool night eclipsing
years spent indexing,
answers mislaid and
blueprints unrolling

Components rusting,
crane necks and girders.
Steel bones in moonlight.
Tight lipped and staring.

                             Fall comes
                             construction
halts now and the walls stand half
                            complete
And outside
                                     the chain link
shrugging off the cold and
still wondering when

Step through unfinished
building. Get home. Shelved
                      until next Spring.

I feel like going back to those days,
when I could feel and not fear it.
When I didn't know the world's ways
and I didn't yet need my fighting spirit.
When I could simply have a romance,
nothing complicated or categorized,
that would come up by happenstance
with no limits needing to be devised.

I miss those days, I could awaken
find another body next to mine,
and not even be mistaken
in thinking this won't be the only time.

I miss those days with a passion,
too often I feel like I'm crashin'
straight through the mud and the dirt
all the pain and the hurt.
I render my poems inert,
when I stare in the mirror,
see myself crying and dying,
insanity getting nearer.
I one day hope to rise from it all,
stand from the ash, proud and tall,
but I know that after I do
I'll eventually once again fall.

I miss those days
in more than a million ways.
Watching my eyes glaze over
thinking about days over
again.
I flow my heart into this pen
put my soul into what I write
now and then.
I know I'll be that happy once more,
I've got that joy kept in store,
for a future when I suture
this wounded pride and mind.
I've got a stride in mind,
for when I return.
See the surprise in their faces,
I bet they thought I would burn
up in the anger like butane.
I'm just too hard to contain
and I walk through cold rain,
thinking about once upon a time,
through sweat and grime,
You were mine, I was yours,
now it's vice versa.

Where did you go?
                               Are you far away?
                                                           ­  Do you miss my electronic embrace?
                                                        ­    
I'm craving yours
                              And your static smile

I hope my screen lights up with your face
                                                                ­      Because right now,
Frankly,
                                   I'm all over the place

There's an open door,
somewhere in this godforsaken empty space,
with its rusted, leaky pipes,
and stained, torn down drapes.

There's a window left cracked open too I think,
because every time I'm almost ready to go,
a breeze brushes against my cheek,
and reminds me to face what I already know.

Because just as I can't abandon this vacant place
if anything remains undone,
I also can't let go of you and me,
so let's finally finish what we've already begun.

I'll let you take pictures of other girls in their bras
And I'll never quite get over it.
And I'll let you sleep all through the night
And I won't say a word when I'm feeling left out.
But I'll save all those rocks in a little purple
Crown Royal bag on a tack in my room.
And I'll throw those rocks at you when push comes to shove.
But I won't tell you how I'm feeling, I won't
Let you know how I've been doing
Because I'm your little princess and you
Expect me to be happy
But I'm not.
I always order too much
Food to handle and I
Pay for movies with a gun
Stuck in my back because I'll never watch them
But isn't it nice to think that I'll have a way
To stay sane in the case of a catastrophe?
Isn't it nice to say that I'll be able to
Mask my self indulgence in
Cigarette smoke and bad puns?
I hate myself, I hate myself,
I hate myself for engulfing myself in this load of *******
But I didn't ask to be born.
If I had it my way I would have been a wasted mess in a ******,
A wasted race in a piece of latex
Because I hate myself and that won't change.
I want to go to Chuck E Cheese
But I'm a hundred and twelve percent sure that
I won't fit the tubes.
I'm the lost cause of the century,
A piece lost in the puzzle.
The piece you dropped while making love
Underneath the covers
With that ***** you call a friend who's really just
Out for blood.
I want you to see, oh how I want you to see,
That you're a ******* and she's a ****
But you're building your castles and I'm just
Sending smallpox-ridden corpse heads over the fence.
I've never put my lips to the bottle because I'm tired
Of people using ales and hard ciders as excuses
Because we were all born once and we'll all die
But these people won't even let the most solemn of us
Dream.
Why can't you let the solemn ones sleep?
I've gotten older and I long for deeper things
But I'm a casket in the courtyard,
Not the body so much as the casing
Of a human bullet heading straight into your back.
I'm the whiskey in your glass, the nicotine of a cigarette,
So addicting but so remorseful.
I am the unwritten play,
Waiting for the day in which I'm published
But I'm ahead of my time and no one will do it.
But at least I'm in love with the best of the best
Because I know that at least if I **** up,
I'll still be loved deeper and more succulently than any of you losers.
I'm that geek who sits with a plate of food in front of them
But doesn't eat.
I don't care if my games don't come with the instruction manuals,
I'm all right with the value of being incomplete.
I'm intelligent because I see all these maddening things.
I'm the better person because I am walked on.
I am the queen of my own kingdom
And I'll have my king by my side through and through.