It's never fully together. Always falling away slowly getting more and more unstable.
Just when it seems to be stable it falls apart. Like a light breeze knocking
A house of cards to the ground.
Nothing is ever fully together, the illusion of control is always clouding, lingering, pressing on our thoughts. Until one day it all falls to the ground.

.......just like a house of cards

I wish I knew.
I wish I could see.
What burdens you what you think what's truly on your mind.
I wish I knew.
I wish I could see.
How you see me, how important I am to you.
I wish I knew.
I wish I could see.
What you do, who you're with.
I wish you know.
I wish you could see.
That I worry about you, that you consume my thoughts.
I wish you knew.
I wish you could see.
How much I miss you, how often I lay awake wishing to just hold you.


I wish you knew.....and I wish I could see

The way your pencil moves along the rough surface lightly at first as if it's floating just above it. The lines barely visible like footprints where fresh snow has fallen. The lines darken and take shape, your hand working more diligently now. The pencil racing across the vast landscape that is your paper, everyone who sees the result is amazed. But to you.....they're just lines on paper

I feel empty, like someone has stolen things from inside of me. Nothing can fill the emptiness, nothing can change how this feels. No person can replace what I've lost.  
Anything that helps is all but temporary. She'll be gone by sunrise, and the feeling will return. Nothing
Can ever change how I feel, it's all just veils to shade the holes where pieces were torn from.
Nobody will ever know about my
Missing pieces.

I cannot even look at you. You disgust me, and it's not even your fault.
You're perfect in every way possible, you're everything I wish I could be. But I'm not.
He looks at you like you're a shiny new toy, like a homeless man admires a dollar bill.
He looks at me like I'm nothing but a disappointment. But it's not your fault.
You didn't ask for it. You didn't ask to be perfect In his eyes. But still I hate you for it, yet all you want is to be like me. Which he won't ever let happen.
You are and always will be everything I will never be.

We used to be close you and I. Always laughing, playing, bonding. Then one day it all changed, you weren't there anymore.
My importance to you faded like a tattoo, slowly becoming insignificant in your life. I was just another tool to help you get what you wanted.
One second I was your world, the next I was a burden.
Years passed where we grew apart, you were no longer my father. You weren't even a friend. I can't find a word to describe what you are to me anymore: boss, coworker, aquantence?
No matter, your real son will always make you proud.

I am and always will be just a burden to my father.

That feeling.

The one you get when you see it through the ripped paper
The excitement, the anticipation, the passion.
When it's there right infront of you gleaming like light is absent from everything else you open it taking your time to peel apart the layers of complex packaging.
There it lies, it's what you've wanted for what seems like forever and now it's yours.
You learn everything about It. How it looks how it feels how it works. Everything inside and out. You never want to let it go. You don't let it go. If it breaks you fix it. It grows with you it becomes a part of you.
Your new toy.

Questions.
They can provide information or insight they can make things better or worse.
We all ask so many of them as simple as a child asking a parent or as complex as a student asking a professor.
Answers.
They're the response to all of our questions. They can be helpful or harmful, useful or useless.
Questions.
I ask the ones I don't want the answer to.