I know its been a while old friend
but dont show it just do what your told
for the things we try for hardest
are the things that die saddest
Although its been a while
since your number i dialed
i still think of you, i try to lie
and hide behind a barely open door
i lost track of whats worth fighting for
But the day i opened my eyes i was shaken to my core
I try to look back but things could never be like before.
here i stay writing to an old friend that will never hear what i say
If only you knew the things i knew
youd see why your lies cant burn
if i cant hold them to a candle anymore.
I want to drop my facade for a second and say im broken shaken
and every person i see is mistaken for your ghost.
You visit me in my dreams. i start to talk but
have nothing to say.
since the day you chose to go away.
over things i never meant to say
in response to burning pain.
were over now and i cannot cave.
just keep swimming to my next wave.
who knows where this one leads
somewhere far from here
where i can repent for my evil deeds
tear apart my old world and leave no tears.
because where im going even angels fear.

The kind that say "I've not done such and such in days."
The "Such and such" being something needed to sustain life

Who sit on their phones after telling you that YOU are hosting them
On a Thursday night

Whom dodge non-academic questions because they're hard
And afraid the answer you expect is correct

Who say things just because they want your pity
Even if those things aren't true

The kind of people who are ungrateful

The kind of people who are stupid because
Maturing and learning is too hard
"It's much easier to pity myself and stay ignorant" they say

Those people frustrate me
Perhaps they frustrate me so because there was a time
When I did a few of those things

Who is it that I see when I look into the sky?
Is it her? No, maybe it’s her. No, neither, it’s a blank canvas to me.
I can stare all I want, but the truth is that I don’t see a face, I don’t see an angel when I look into the sky. Does that mean I’m alone? Does that mean I’m not cared for?
Tears come to my eyes when I feel it, that loneliness that plagues my day-to-day life. But I don’t cry. I walk onward to the moon that shows me that I’m not completely empty, but alas, I am.
I have no love anymore, nobody would care if I disappeared one day, I’d be alone as I already am. But that thought doesn’t seem to shake me anymore, I mean, it’s been this way for years with few and short intermissions, so why fear the game you’re an expert at?
Let me generate a distinct response to the questions my soul asked me…
What is lonely? Lonely is that dark spot on the sun that sheds less light and hurts more than it helps yet gets no love from his bright neighbors for their own lights outshine him and therefore he shalt not realize that he isn’t the only spot and not the darkest, yet he still feels the desolation and isolation of what and where his position is.
Are you lonely? Am I? Aren’t we all a loner in some way? Yes, I miss the love that once flowed through my blood-thirsty veins, but since it dried out my blood hasn’t been as rich and warm as it used to, chilling my soul and bone to the core of my existence.
Do you need it? Do I? absolutely, I lust for love, desperate for the taste of it, the feel of romance is softer than that of fondue chocolate and even more sweet.
Yet it’s only a taste.
Imagine a bite of it, a bite out of love, delicious as it might be it takes up time, chunks of years, decades even, until you thrive for it in multiple lives. But I have no life to waste, yet I waste it on the search of it, why?
Not answerable by words, maybe by instinct. I love you, she said, I love you, I said, but did I mean it? Did she? My mind said no and my heart said yes, I figured that was all the answer I needed, but was it that my heart just ached for the fuel it craved? Maybe so.
Shackles on a freed soul bring problems of passed futures, new histories that have been altered based on the feelings of love. Romeo and Juliet, heaven and hell, heart and soul, All myth but with a mysterious air that brings its prey in by it’s grasps on the heart.
Loved once, loved twice, fowled heart flinging off the tip of a stadium that’ll never try to retrieve it from wherever it lands, batter shrugging and finding another heart to strike into the air making a home-run meant for her liking , but what about the discarded heart? What am I to do? I guess I’ll wait until life finds me again.