I've tried so hard to write
a poem just for you
                                                                 but once the pen hits the paper
                                                          the words, get dry, they disappear
                          
                             every motion, every second,
                                          everything  
                               is slowed down to a pause

                            i'm lost in this universe
                                         that's lacking all things you

even at the thought
or briefest mention
of you
                                                                             i'm back at the moment
                                                        when my life was forever changed
                                  
                                     i can't write,
                                    i won't write
                    
                         because it will never justify
                      all the things that make you good
                      all the things that make you, you

                             i regret so much
                                 yet there's nothing i can do

if i knew there was only so much time
   i would have tried more, done more
                          
                                                                             lived more
                                                                             loved more

but now i'm stuck
in this moment
that isn't
                                                                                                       with you

this isn’t going to make sense
cause it’s not supposed to
and if I’m being honest
this isn’t for you
it’s not even for me

I’m stuck
I’m trapped
I’m lost
I’m every other word that describes people who feel at a dead end

I’m typing on a ****** phone
That’s connected to a ****** connection
That could possibly be a metaphor for my life

I’m writing
Because I don’t know what else to do

I’m writing
Cause that’s what they told me to do

But they also told me that what I think isn’t always true
That I’m special and I just don’t see it

But that’s the thing
I don’t see it

And if I don’t see it then why should it matter if anyone else does

And if I’m thinking something why should it matter if it’s true

What matters is that it’s in my head
What matters is that it’s always there

But here I am
Stuck in the same place
Back to square one
No progress made
The same questions, whether true or not

Will I amount to anything?
Do I really help?
Am I really worthwhile?
Do you actually care?

I see these people
When I’m online
They smile and post
They edit and pose

I can’t help but wonder

Do you really smile, or do you just do it to look happy like me?
Do you really feel happy, or are you trying to lie like me?
Do you understand what I feel?

Or is it just me?

I’m not trying to be selfish
I don’t want a lot
I just want to be happy
And I want others to be happy with me
But neither is happening

So instead there’s a poem
That doesn’t even ryhme
That makes no sense
  I’ll try harder

My life is sometimes only that green
that everybody see's during the day,
and at night when you awake
with your window open wide
and perceive the fresh scent
of a brand new beginning,
with the joy it transfers to us all,
conveyed within the air we breath,
that comes only in nature we see.

I have long ago
accepted my inadequacy
and rather enjoyed it
indeed this has made me happy

What we say
is hardly the truth
words we contrive
our purpose to suit

we can't be our own accuser
our reputation we strive to keep
so used to self-contradiction and hypocrisy
we never lose even a single night's sleep.

the night was starless
your face blank
and your eyes like
the galaxy was alit

a dangerous mix of colours
the most attractive danger
i have ever seen

it was beautiful, like you;
the sight of your golden hair
being tingled by the wind
while you were leaving

and you left me,
you left me
aflame