Why do I fall for so many people,
But no one falls for me?
Is it just me not being able to express it,
Or when you see me you want to take the express way?
Is it me talking a lot,
Or you talking to others about me?
And not positively.
I may get portrayed as the crazy one,
But all I want to get portrayed as is someone's love.
Why am I so different? Am I undeserving?
Its not specifics anymore.
Is it just me completely?
Because you all have just completely ignored me.

Those beautiful eyes,
That once contained happiness,
Are now raging with anger,
Clearly displaying that the flame within you is now untamed,
Taking over as if it's your master and you are its puppet.
The cuts on your arm,
Match the ones on your heart,
Leaving scars of remembrance.
The shadows you now live in,
Consume the new you,
Gradually crushing the source of life........the pulse of what used to be.

random words filter with each beat
pushing through the webs spun
fine silk
coarse wire
the heart being the seed.

A dreamer, that’s what she was.
Most people just float on, barely surviving the torrents that life throws their way.
But she was a dreamer.
She lived for the love she read of in books.
She lived for the adventure she found in their pages.
She loved for the sake of never being loved in return.
For she was a dreamer, and dreaming she was.

A dreamer, that’s what she was.
Most people just carry on, refusing to acknowledge the pain that chains them down.
But she was a dreamer.
She was trapped by her expectations.
She was trapped by her desires.
She lived for a life she would never live.
For she was a dreamer, and dreaming she was.

A dreamer, that’s what she was.
Where as others awake when their dreaming is done,
She was trapped by her dream, violently torn,
Between wishing, waiting, wanting, watching…
In search of a life that could never be hers.
For she was a dreamer, and dreaming she was.

A dreamer, that’s what she was.
But how long can she chase her dream,
Until it becomes a nightmare?
Is she a dreamer stuck in the dreaming?
Or just an addict chasing the feeling?
I was a dreamer…until life caught wind of my dreaming.

She sat alone, beside the door
not asking much, not asking more.

She didn’t wait for steps to fall
but for a glance.
No cry. Just call.

. . .

She wasn’t silent out of fear,
nor lost for words that wouldn’t clear.

She simply held that hush so deep
your broken soul
could rest, could sleep.

. . .

When you were cruel, she did not shake.
When you were low, she’d bend, not break.

She breathed like grass, a quiet thing,
forgave it all, just with a blink.

. . .

You could have left.
Or screamed. Or lied.
Or tossed your anger off with pride.

She knew it all.
She didn’t plead.
She breathed, just breathed
like hope, like need.

. . .

And if you left and never came
past morning’s hush, beyond the flame

she still would sit…
no names, no cries…
and watch the night
as if
it shines.

Everything ends,
Debt collected by the light that gave it life.
Not everyone lives past the grave,
Often forgotten, memory slipping away.
I know for certain I will fade,
For that is how it must be.
Do away with my name and virtue,
Let only the raw words stay.
Yet still, when I do die,
I want a cannonade on evil,
And stars falling from the sky.

Sometimes
you have to go—
take that step,
despite the fear,
despite the uncertainty,
and discover
that in the end,
we always survive
to tell the story.

sometimes
i need to remind myself
you’re my therapist,
not my buddy.
but man,
i wish i could text you.

i’m breaking
to pieces,
tearing
at the seams —

could you please
clear your calendar
for me?