I've never been good at opening up
In fact only one has ever really gotten me to
But she's no longer here, she has gone away
Leaving me behind to feel so afraid.

I'm a thinker in mind and a writer at heart
A lover and a fighter which can tear me apart
I'll fight for the one I love, I'll never let her go
If I could just find her so she could just know.

I don't like opening up, in fact it's very hard
I start to get defensive, I want to run far,
I feel a little barbaric like a rampant ape,
Who only wants to have the chance of a great escape.

If I do open up I'm afraid of what you'll find.
It's a mysterious place, this thing we call my mind,
Filled with a wild and crazy imagination,
Bizzarre concoctions of my own creation.

I do love creating a world of my own,
Where I can make everyone happy and never be alone.
But this can never happen, at least not in this life,
Just look around at all the people suffering in strife.

I want to help them, the mute crying out,
"I can hear you" I want to say but then I find doubt,
What if they don't want me, what if I'm no good,
I feel the want to help, now if only I would.

But that would require something from me I don't possess,
A great self-confidence especially when under stress.
I have found that under pressure I can work well,
Though not until it's over can I ever really tell.

The problem I have with letting others look inside,
Is that I've gotten so good at wanting to hide
I've fooled myself into thinking I'm strange
And fearing every attempt I make at change.

Oh and change is deffinitely by far the worst
It is the thing which I was afraid of first.
But of course I know the strengths that come from it
Then again, if it was that simple I'd have already done it.

I guess the problem with opening up, 
with saying who I am,
Is what if they don't like me?
What if they don't want to understand?

I can be so confusing, I barely know myself,
I sometimes have to ask someone else for help,
Of course that's not my choice but only when they ask 
And only ever then do I dare take off my mask.

Maybe that's the missing link I've been looking for,
Maybe that's the key to opening my door.
 A key that I can never turn by myself,
Maybe the door will only open if opened by someone else.

8/22/14

I'm not dumb.
Maybe just happy.
I'm not like them.
But I can pretend.
I'm a visionary.
Misunderstood and unwanted.
If I had a shotgun in my mouth,
You could call me Cobain.
But would you stop me?

Not once have I thought,
myself to be better,
not witty,
nor charming,
not funny,
nor clever,
I walk with a pace,
to be passed on by,
you look, and you notice,
I am hidden, inside.

A little cut here, a little cut there.
No one will notice.
No one cares.
Hide the scars with band- aids and sleeves.
Cutting is the only time I feel alive.
I wont do it anymore I promise, lie.

Don't go across the world for me
Because I will only find a way to make you leave
Even though my sadness is too hidden to see
I promise you, some nights I find it hard to breathe

Don't set yourself, on fire to make me smile
Because after a while, I will decide it's too hard loving someone who gives me what I desire
And I will only want you to go the extra mile
Though it's shocking to me that someone could love a person so dire.

Don't blame yourself, because I can never trust again
Because I run away from anyone who sees through this grin
And all I think about in this brain
Is that you didn't feel like loving an entity as vile as me was a sin.

Insomnia in a serving,
I have it with a head full of thoughts.
Ready pen in hand,
contemplating where they should land.

Caffeine in a gulp,
unruly chatter in the background as soundtrack.
Landing words haphazardly in ink...
Scrawls and scribbles of what I think.

Coffee breath in a cup...
A delectable complement
to a favoured pastime.
Enjoying this very moment,
as I jot down this last flavoured rhyme.

My body aches.
It aches for your touch,
Your lips on my neck
Your hands on my hips,
Your chest against my chest.

My body aches
To feel your breath on my skin
To feel you pulling me closer
To feel your hands in my hair,
Your heartbeat in sync with mine.

I miss your voice;
Your touch, your smell.
I miss your rough hands
And your soft touch.

I long to trace your scars
To memorize your imperfections and
To be the reason you want to be better.
I want you to want me like I want you.

There is a love that rages here.
A kind that's incredible.
One that's illogical
and addled.

It sees through eyes though blind.
It thinks with mind though insane.
It feels with heart though unscrupulous.
It chooses with thought though reckless.

It is selfish and it wants what it wants.
It doesn't care because everything else
bears little weight.
Inconsequential.

There is a love that surges here.
And we are but...
collateral damage.