I accept
my mistakes
as in the past;
and in the present-moment
I strive to improve my self
so I don’t repeat these mistakes
in the future.

I fail at persuasive entanglement
and negotiations almost masterfully,
as I try to strike a deal with whatever entity, or deity, that encompasses the life force around us.
“Show me a way,” I murmur,
pure exhaustion laced within what
passes for my voice today.
“If you can’t throw me a bone,
then throw me air; I swear it will suffice.”
Just once I would like to experience the gratification and overall relief and completion
at getting one of the few things I wished for in life.

And if it’s will sees it fit that I have neither bone nor oxygen,
then I plead that it atleast grants me the smallest grain of wisdom,
all within the right moments,
so that if life truly is circular versus linear,
that when I get pushed down the wrong path, open the wrong door,
and make life altering mistakes,
I can atleast try to gather the strength to force myself to prevent them.
So maybe one day, even a day repeated, especially a day repeated,
I might know what happiness feels like
when it isn’t artificial or ripped from my hands swiftly.
I held a soft grip once out of wishing to provide comfort, protection and love,
when maybe I should have been digging my nails deep,
and holding on for dear ******* life.

Your life was a fast track
                                got you under attack
The system is hacked
                                       Some sick act
I'd told you I'd come back
                        I'm too late matter of fact

Do you still think about me?
Am I one of your painful memories?
Do I cross your mind when you're all alone and trying to sleep?

I can say that all is the truth for me
I'm just a grain of sand and you are the sea.
You wrap around my brain until I can't ******* breathe.

Do you remember trying not to cry?
The day we finally said goodbye.
Feeling like we're alone but surrounded by a hundred eyes.

Did I move far enough out of state,
So that your memory of me is completely erased?
Do you still linger on my words and our mistakes?

Losing you, I was always afraid.
You used to tell me that we would be okay.
I guess you can say we were never meant to have our Always.

I dont think I'll ever recover from the love we had. I'm the one who dropped the vase and watched all of the porcelain shatter all amongst the floor, spreading into every corner of the room. I knew it was nearly impossible to walk without cutting yourself on the glass and that's why you had to leave, that's why we both had to leave. I've swept the floor about a thousand times now. I still watch for you at the doorway, I've written letters that never have been read, I cleanch my pillow at night and sometimes still dream of the smell of your hair in the bed next to me. I know there will never ever be a place for us again but you haunt me like a ghost. I wish I could see a glimpse of you pass me just one more time.

I just can't seem to stop hurting people lately.
I just want to leave this wretched place.
I want people to forget about me.
I want to start anew.
I want to be reborn.
Into a world.
Where I.
Won't.
Be.
Judged.
And hurt.
Did you feel.
This way when.
You left our home?
Were you searching for.
A place where you wouldn't.
Be ridiculed and look down upon.
For the hurt you have committed to us?
For each and every mistake you’ve made?
That made you definable as human being?
They shouldn't matter, should they?
They really shouldn't.
But they do.
They.
Truly.
Do.

...fell down and shattered into a gadzillion pieces.

It was an accident.
It was fate.
It was moment of weakness.
It was meant to be.

It was a gadzillion pieces of
broken words,
unkept promises,
unspoken hopes.

It was a gadzillion
drops of tears,
gusts of emotions,
jigsawed thoughts.

All those pieces swept into the wind,
spread across sand and sea,
whispered under every breath
and buried... buried.

They unfold and twist,
collide and explode.
Pressurized and purified,
proven true, it

lands back to the very heart of where it started--
with You.

I'll spend the rest of my days kissing your smile
and thinking of you while I'm folding my clothes
love is practice, a verb
love is the patience you've given without expectation
and when I questioned you, when I wondered if the stars really aligned for us
you showed me that love is a choice
it is not begging someone to stay, but knowing they will everyday
it's never an "you owe me" or being held against the weight of my wrong-doings
it's you and me, in all of my realizations and things I've yet to figure out
it's figuring them out together