Your silence is the only part of you that still speaks to me,
and when I can't hear your voice anymore,
the fog reveals the distances you aren't willing to travel,
what's the point of reaching out to someone who doesn't want to be reached?

love  is ...
praying  for  someone,
inspite  of  
being  an  atheist.

who am i?
what am i?
Do I really exist?
What form of life Do I have here?
Is my identity really determined by my actions?
If so, that makes me someone who'd rather write than live.
But is that all i am?

I am creative and self-destructive
naturally skilled and unproductive.
I am fragile yet tough as a man,
struggle thru life with no real plan.

As each day passes I can feel it,
I'm slowly losing a part of my identity.

My friends are all screaming;
"who are you!?!"
"is your mask anything like you!?!"

My head is hurting,
I don’t know how it’s still on.
I'm still aching,
After all the breaking that has been done.



© Copyright Tyler Atherton

There is a thing that makes someone that we love and rose become our favorite things.
They both,
Beautiful yet lovely
Fragrant yet addicting

And,
They are also painful

Like Rose which has torn and bleed our arm when we touch it

Or,

Like someone that we love who promise us something, but only words which gone hopeless until we upset with tears.

Then,
It always ended up to loving and wanting them back, over and over. Even though we knew how it felt being hurt.

I had a dream last night.
You were there.
Right next to me.
And then you said,
“You know the feeling?”
And I asked,
with a feeling in my gut
that I couldn’t forget,
“which one?”
And you whispered,
“You know the feeling you get
when you love someone?”

And then I woke up.
My eyes flew open.
My arms reaching for you.
But you weren’t there.
No.
You never were.

Nobody never been so special for me as you did,
In my entire life nobody never will be.
I always admired your smile, refer the most beautiful smile in the world.
That is why I always wanted to try to give you a rose daily so that I can see your smile, but sometimes I didn't and for that I will always be sorry.
If I'm able to count the every drop of an Ocean have than I can tell you how much I Love You. Every moment that I spent with you was my actual life.
Still my words are shorts to describe you and for your love mean to me, I'm very blessed that I got your love.

You come home stumbling
mumbling
grabbing me as the toxin numbs

I pretend I’m not sober
so I can feel your skin against mine

I pull you closer as you pull away
and we crash into sheets

I pretend not to feel your confusion
as you touch the curve of my neck
and remind me that I need you
more than you need me