I cry every night.
I wallow, and I weep.
The tears stream down my face.
I ask, and blurt out useless prayers.

She may be my one an only, but maybe, maybe shes someone elses... If so, then they deserve her.

Lying naked, glaring at me, she haunts my thoughts. Her most pure form. No clothes to shield her beauty, those majestic eyes see right through me.

Love they call it. The brother of hurt.
The sister of sorrow. And the mother of healing.  Time fades with that absent love, its never forgotten, but maybe learned to love deeper then the last.

I cycle through the stages of grief and love lost, like a man playing Russian roulette.  

I often think about her at night, my last smile, followed by a tear, before I dream.
I wake to checky phone in a hurry, just to see if today is the day. I listen to our music, to hear of i missed anything that could have saved me, and I find myself more alone and lost, while searching for answers.

Your over flood of questions have me sinking under their weight
Like my bed is soaked with your concern
This is not supposed to hurt me .. but it is
Don't tell me I'm doing too much
I already know that I am
Your reminder is just one more thing that will break free the dam I hold my tears in
Sometimes I do feel like I can't
And maybe sleep is not the right route to take
But is it so bad that I want the world to pause.
I want your concerns to stop.
I want my bed to dry.
Just so I can breathe for a while ...

Overwhelmed by thoughts I sit here alone,
Wish to be understood and to be understanding;but that time is gone
There should have been one more chance,
To make everything alright in a glance
Just like others I want to live a peaceful life,
And don't want be the one who's soul feels like killing itself with a knife
Why Should I do that injustice to myself?
And leave the ones who love, crying for help
But what will happen when they'll leave?
And I'll be left alone to bereave
This life has always been so cruel to us,
But I keep wondering how to break this curse.

Life is too short, the world is actually small, and we age too fast...
Music is the transition through it all, helps cope with each event coming and passing.
Risk is the rush to make life more beautiful.
Time is a ever going fictional object, that keeps track of the events and risks that leave scar tissue.

im no longer breathing
the water rushing in

filling my lungs
right up to the very brim

the waves tear at me
they pull me in every which way

no longer breathing
death takes me today.

Can't even finish a sentence
without being stressed
with every little thing I write
with every little math problem I solve
Because for some reason I can't do it right.

Can't even finish a thought
without being consumed
with all the anxiety
with all the fear
because for some reason they expect me to do it right.

Can't even finish a task
without being engulfed
with a headache
with a stomach ache
because now I'm not feeling right.

Can't even finish this poem
without being overwhelmed
with every little math problem
with all the anxiety
with a headache
All because I want to do it right.

A stand off between concise,
introverted ends of the same masterpiece.

An alluring strategy that helps define
an existence based on love,
where both intervene in one another's
paths in life..
While still managing to slay imaginary creatures
in the full heat of conducted card games.

Between overly exhausted, endless "dad jokes," precious animal "poetry," and silently lounging in a confined abstract fortress of wood and steel, the time created in this atmosphere, is one that all time should be measured by.

With one in the others presence, yin is completed with its yang,
and a sense of divinity is forced into assembly.

One in the "same, same"

I am proud.

When it rains it pours,
The storm of life is never forgiving.
Often giving us more than we feel like we can handle.
It floods our bodies with emotion, stress, anxiety, and depression.
We can either tread through the flood, or let it drown us.

the waves that carry you
swelling like a bruise
with every drawn breath
bringing you to your death
waves of turmoil, anguish
with sole will to punish.
trapped; sinking into an abyss
darkness, like a soft kiss.
watching the world cave in
as you think about what could've been
how do you let go of the things
that are ever so haunting?
cast them away upon the waves,
the very ones forming your grave.

I feel like I'm suffocating in a room full of people but no one can see that I'm dying
and no one knows how to save me and I can't tell them because I've lost the ability to breathe
so I'm left gasping for air that I just can't seem to find
and I'm left struggling to get help that only I can offer