Never fall,
take,
give,
sacrifice
no choice,
Never fall,
Never change,
Never,
same.

You looked me in the eye
With the same smile you gave me
A long time ago.
You let me order your coffee for you
I knew which one
It's still the same
From a long time ago.

I laughed about the jokes you told me
You laughed at how unfunny
Mine were
And you playfully hit me
I frowned, you laughed,
I laughed, you laughed again
And said sorry
Just like you did
A long time ago.

The worst of it all
Was that when your hand
Accidentally brushed mine
I shivered
Just like I did
A long long time ago.


-- Eleanor

Egos are false, they fail you, let you down.
Kick you over, leave you thinking you're better than someone else
Egos are not true, we are all equals, all equally important

Low self esteem is the same in many ways, it lets you down.
Kicks you while you're down, leaves you thinking someone else is better
Your insecurities are not true, we are all important, as well as you.

The only thing left is to be self aware and to know who you are
Become comfortable with yourself, and love yourself
And love everyone around you, including your enemies

Now,
I'm not one to wallow in the depths of my own despair.
What a waste of time,
I'd rather be jumping for joy in the paradise they call life,
such a blessing to live, to be alive
or so they say.
So when you display emotions of comfort or love towards me,
am I wrong in thinking that you are growing fond of me?
That perhaps we could be compatible, jump through life together,
or at least for the foreseeable future?
Was I wrong for mistaking your soft, heart-warming-now-heart-wrenching, messages as a sign that possibly, you were mine?
Then how so, is it, that I turn my back for a second and you're gone?
'There's nothing wrong with you, it's just she is something else'
Oh well, forgive me whilst I weep, forgive me whilst I sleep
the pain away, forgive me, for apparently, I have sinned.
I'm still not one to wallow in the depths of my own despair,
what a waste of time, but time is no longer of the essence, so I shall do as I please, turns out I was wrong.
I always am though.

So you know that strange feeling you get, the one where it feels like you're different from them.
You're a green tulip in a field of yellows, but they all see in black and white.
You decide to go with it, because Different is bad. Same is good.
Same, they say, is what gets you somewhere.
Same, I think, isn't fun at all.
It's gray, dull, a ticking clock in an empty room. Time wastes away, and nothing is done.
Same stands over you with a bat, and 'plonk' when Different tries to talk to you. Same wears the same suit and tie every day, never changing.
Different likes colors and scarves and sandals and beanies and fur coats and tattoos.
Same likes to talk about the weather, while Different doesn't talk; she was interrupted too much.
Different likes to sit down and think, and think, and dream. She sits longing for more Different's, the ones with fur coats and tattoos. Same chases them down with his bat and 'plonk' they become like Same, with suits and bats.

We are

We want

We often need

We would rather be

We will always wish more

We are the same,

you and I,

though you are vastly different

with how you live inside the same world

I try to exist in with you by my side, or nearby,

or simply on my mind nowhere in sight.

I think its funny,

when I imagine

the person that you are,

standing next to me,

I often wonder,

if when you turn away,

your reaction might be the same for me,

if I were to turn away,

but I haven’t yet, well not really,

maybe in a physical way,

but the years have traveled quickly,

that being a memory,

today is wondrous

when earlier in our lives,

that same day might be

a regular day,

regular people,

in a way.

Under lock and key I carry value
My hinges are closed shut to shelter and comfort my innermost treasure
walls and doors claw my stainless steel exterior to peel away to my deepest core
but for years I have remained the same. But worn.
my screws are lose, I'm ripped from the bottom, and my clammy grip is no longer able to bear the weight.
Some day I may not have a handle, but I can still be carried through as a groom carries his wife to their honeymoon
Still I have remained the same. but change appearance.
I am a collage of tattoos that scar every place I've stayed, every floor I've touched.
often times I remain stationary tugged by a wagon  
rocks evoke earthquakes that make me stumble and gravity has a way of pushing and pulling me in all directions.
As years progress I look different than before, almost like a stranger
but under lock and key I carry value
I have remained the same.