I haven't been discreet
That I've always sought
To prosper.

I've looked opportunity
In the eyes,
And I always seem
To falter.

I've been building barriers
Along walls
That I forgot existed.

How do you expect me
To claim to be okay,
Or resemble the image
Of someone
Who has their **** together?

I hardly expect
Any miracles of you,
So why do you expect
Any compassion from me?

Love seems seldom placed
In the heart of opportunity
Or convenience,
And my advances will all falter
As they've all been in vain.

You'll never fail to falter
When you have the chance
To be humane.

You'll default on your promises
And forget the fact
That you claimed you couldn't leave me
If you tried.

I've become a slave
To the open road.

I'm a vagabond,
A rambler,
And everything else
You'll tell your daughters
To stay away from.

I'm a heartless gambler,
Or so I've been told,
By the countless girls
Who only knew me
By a passing glance.

The impression I'm playing lately
Looks a lot like the reflection
Of something you've never liked
About me.

I can't blame you.

I don't like myself,
And this time,
The blame is all mine.

I've been thinking to my habits
And how one in particular
May very well
Be rotting my liver.

I'm a cognac ******
Behind the wheel,
And on the open road,
I have no reason
To slow down.

All I do

Is sit in my room

And feel sorry for myself.

It feels like so long

Since the day we met,

And now all I do is wait.

I’m not ashamed to admit

I’m withering.

I’ve been carving your initials

Into my eyes

The exact same way

I try to carve sanity

Out of the thoughts
That I’ve been dissecting

In this conceited attempt

At poetry.

Such a sad condition

To admit that I’m broken…

And worse,

Still,

Impatient.

Tell me, girl,
That you're coming home,
And that the stars we wished on
Won't be falling
On our heads tonight.

Tell me I'm not meant
To cry my eyes out tonight,
And that tomorrow
Is going be better
Because you'll be coming home...
And back to me.

It was really nothing,
Because we were like siblings
Who had grown up together...
Trusting each other
And believing every word we'd spout.

It was really nothing
When I was happy to finally
Be understood by someone
Who only wanted me for friendship,
And only dealt in the truth.

It was all for fun
When I had no cause
To doubt any word that could ever
Escape the corners of your already
Damaged subconscious.

It was really nothing
When I found out
That you're a living dichotomy...
You're a light switch,
And far beyond my comprehension.

It was really nothing,
Until you lied.

My last night at the Moulin Rouge
Was spent coated in heartbreak,
Regret, and tears
Which would have overflown the Seine.

I can never return…
The dead have no need
For cabarets, alcohol,
And the world’s amount of exotic women.

But most of all,
The dead do not pine for
Lost chances
And a fate written in error.

The dead do not have to forgive
And make amends.
The lights will go out…the conflict…
Resolved.

My last night in the Moulin Rouge
Was spend covered in absinthe,
And the other poisons I needed
To remain alive…

If even temporarily.

All your life
You're taught
To keep your composure.

All you've ever known
Is to be grateful
That you didn't die...

That you've lived through
Your crucible and now
You're free.

Like the past was all
Just a painful series
Of bad dreams.

I'm lost in a world
Built on lies
And false composure.