I see you.
When have you felt that before?
The feeling that someone else understands you,
Truly understands you,
Sees through your walls, into you.

I for one haven’t felt it.
It’s always a passing friendship,
A fleeting moment.
Never a true friendship,
I wonder if I’ve ever truly had a friend.

I know my friends care for me,
I care for them.
But how well do we know each other?
We don’t talk about how we feel.
We don’t share anything personal.

But why do I feel left out?
Like they talk and I don’t.
I suppose my walls are too high.
How I wish I had a hammer,
And watch it go crashing down.

Then finally feel like someone sees me.

All the reasons that you Want to **** yourself
Don't you ever consider the dwell.
Only if you could fall into a wishing well.  

Wasted a lifetime believing all the lies
How could you rest your head at night  

While the blade cuts from left to right on my chest I never felt just right.  

Bullets through my head
wouldn't rest  loving dread
that you pressed on my chest like the blade cutting deep like a memory.  

I don't want to breath this air  
I can't  for the  earth
All the hate just duplicates  
Like the blade through my veins.

it's eleven in the evening
and I put on a CD with bird sounds on it.

nothing else
just mechanical sounding
tsjirps and songs.

I am happy
   with my birds
   with my loneliness.

I once called you
My most beautiful flower
The way you bloomed
Thriving with life and color
Twisting and spreading
But like all plants
They needed to survive
My heart was your soil
You took what you need
Until my love was drained
You died in my arms
And those thorns scarred me
I kept watering you desperately
But my tears weren't enough
Did you leave a seed for me
A bit of hope to bloom again
Or was this the last season
You grew with me

It's nothing really...

Maybe it's the volume at which the silence speaks when no one is around.

It's the loneliness that becomes creeps in when it's just me and my walls...

I don't know.

Both sending letters,
they tore their love apart—
each line like a "don’t leave me,"
they looked like real love letters.

Reading between the lines,
you’d see who played the part.
The strange thing is, the culprit
was not of either heart.

Jealousy, the silent fire,
gave context and reasons,
possessing their prey,
it moved without control.

Can love be found again,
by one who shared the blame?
Can a fractured soul find wholeness
through forgiveness, love, and name?

Your sorrowed letters shake me,
each farewell cuts me through.
Some of us never get letters—
not of friendship, nor of loss,
much less of love from you.

Los dos enviando cartas
rompían su relación,
parecían un no me dejes
reales cartas de amor.

Mirando entre palabras
verías al culpable,
lo extraño del culpable
ninguno de ese amor.

Los celos crean
contexto y razón,
poseyendo a sus víctimas
accionan planes sin control.

¿Será posible volver al amor
siendo un coautor de tal error?
¿un espíritu quebrado unirá sus trozos
con palabras de amor y perdón?

Conmociona mi espíritu
tus tristes cartas de adiós,
algunos no recibimos cartas
ni por quiebre, ni amistad,
menos siquiera por amor.

The show was great!
The singing, the laughing.
the lights swooning me,
into feeling!

After such a night,
there I was,
wondering comes next,
figured it was time to sleep,
so I went home and did just that.

Until the next time the lights flickered,
songs sweep me on my feet,
and the good times dole directly to my soul.

And he did just that. Opportunities came and went, yet nothing ever matched the same groove. The world kept spinning as it always does, and there he remained sleeping. His dreams could replay that feeling again, no biggie. Why wake? When he could shake all he wanted in a dream.

the
smell
of the
barbecue grill
taunts
my hunger pains
I walk on by
uninvited
with no place
to
go.