I wish I could stop all the time around me.
But keep moving, myself.
So I could have time.
And see it all.
And get better.
And know what to do.

It's not an option.
So I have to do these things
while everyone keeps moving.
Which makes it all more complicated.
And confusing.
And hard.

Please know I hear your offers for help.
And appreciate them.
But I cannot accept.
Helping me is just not something that will actually help me.
I have to sort this,
with out anyone else.

But...
It's so loud.
And Oh!
It's too much.
The white interference.
A symphonic cacophony.
And I'm just more (and more)
lost than before.
Caught in a tide.
Frantic to hide.
Drowning.
And I want to stop.
Breathing.

Yours,

Trouble

One of my favourite things about poetry is how it can make pain and suffering sound so beautiful. The downside is that this also makes people forget about what is really going on and oblivious to how much hurt there is in the world. They become blinded by the light and forget about the dark. For instance when people comment on how beautiful poetry is, I don't think they realize how broken the writer is, I don't think they realize how broken I am.
I mean, I know we were never really in love - but man, we could have been.

i always wanted to write about the true heroes
It's not about hockey stickers or football kickers;
face punchers, these million-dollar-heroes, they manifest no social change
It's about us the people, it's about you and me
It's about free givers who give of themselves for the good of mankind
It's about free changers who freely make change for the good of mankind
That's it, hmmm, changers and free givers?
Oh yes! Free changers in the face of diversity
and against any form of oppression,
never be apathetic to what is right
Never become fearsome in knowing what is right
Stand up for all your brothers and sisters,
here on our delicate planet earth
Say never to the numbskulls, who disbelieve in change,
even at times trying to educate some
When hearts go forth and attach to others
is the beginning of a selfless human being
When the sun never seems to rise,
join other heroes along the way
Everyday count your blessings what you and I fought for
Altruistic motivation is the greatest catalyst for real heroism,
take advantage of it my heroes and potential heroes;
i love you guys, keep on truckin'

'We can't meet. We can't survive. It wouldn't happen ever, the chances of existability are bleak, too good to be true.'
His eyes wouldn't meet mine, fingers entwined, free, trying to pick up a pen, then putting it down, he was fidgeting.
'Give me one good reason why we shouldn't even try.' She was determined.
'Because we're like the train tracks, we run parallel, we understand each other, we're supportive of each other, we can't do without each other. True. All of that and more. But we just can't meet.'
Boy, did he put up a good fight. But she was raised a stubborn kid.
Deep breath.
'But you know, you see, if carefully, in perspective, the lines do meet, intersect. There's that one point. Happens. You just need to be standing at the right place with the right person and looking in the right way.'
A smirk and she knew she'd won.

So you want to know
what death looks like...
It looks like her,
Make-up done perfectly
Red lips that could ****
Nails black as dusk
Heels sharp as knives.

Death.
Looks like her eyes
Captivating.
Stunning. *Yet lifeless.