taking a look in the mirror
you find that there is mostly you;
the walls became smaller yet superior-
once they’re out there’s no coming back through.
and you
wonder why
as the days go by
the people you once had
in your life,
by your side,
leave and they never come back,
never try,
never climb
over those walls
with those apology letters saying
I
am
sorry
will you
please
forgive
me
now-
they’re not sorry
(they’re not sorry)
they’re not sorry
(they’re not sorry)
im not sorry
I’m not sorry!
if you wanted us to stay,
then why did you try so hard to push us away;
if all you wanted was equality
then why you try so hard to make your voice
the only voice I could hear, could breathe, could see, could believe, could stomach, or could retrieve!

as your walls go up
and the blinds fall down
don’t peek outside
to see if we’re around,
because you said it,
you said we should leave
simply because
we had disagreed;
you’re always saying, that we never listen
and when we stop talking, you finally get all your words in
to call us the blind, the defective, and the useless,
but a friend can only stay so long and endure all your bruises!
so when you look back at now, when quite some time has past
remember my words to you, though unsympathetic, they will last:
you were the hypocrite, pleading for peace but sparking rage,
disowning everyone you knew, hiding away in your cage!
and when the pain and hurt from others finally went away
you crawled back out just in time to reassure us that you still hate
everything that disagrees with anything that you do,
hitting us with harmful words, severing connections right through-

your
opinions
have poisoned yourself
I know
it’s because
you’re going through hell
and
you
just
want
some
company-

sometimes
things don’t play out the way you want them to
but what’s up to you
is whether that makes it good or bad
- some don’t understand and won’t ever do
that the reaction and emotional transaction
is something you get to choose-
regardless of the feelings others had.

even all things
formed and hardened
subject themselves to change
and to be changed
for what is
cannot refuse the weathering-
deciding to stay the same
letting the same form remain.

yet they will try
to mask the craters
in their complexion-
some will die
before admitting
some roots have severed connections-
for none like to look back
and see that
what has past
is true;
for admitting all the past acts
or the rough patch
can mean some pain lasts
in their view-

but we are all bruised and cracked deep in our bones
with lasting acts that won’t leave us alone
we were made to break at some point in time
but that doesn’t mean that pain controls our lives-
and even when change leaves us in the dark
and we miss home so much with it’s warming heart,
there is a light shining it’s brilliant warmth
and if we just trust, I know that we can still have life in our storms.

we like to justify:
lie
create
or at least try
to make
or state
a reason why
we do
what we do
or why we chose that we don't
but the truth
we ignore
is that we don't know, and we won't-

you ask yourself
you trust yourself
and you go on your way

you believe your truth
you accept your proof
and you go on your way

you live life with max ease
you do as you please
and you go on your way

but you can't trust yourself
you can't trust anyone else
to give you the answers, and show you the way

so just know that you don't
that you always won't
or either muster the confidence to simply say

"i don't know what i'm doing"
"theres no way of knowing"
"i'm trying to make the best of my fate"

or

"i trust in the stars"
"i leave life up to chance"
"i believe there's a God still showing me grace"

all open their eyes to fear
seeing nothing but what can't be escaped-
even in a world they paint,
what they create
can't get them out of here-
so we
tell stories
make up lies
make our selves feel better
  maybe in time
  we will find
  something that casts this cage away
  -forever
but until then we
search for truth
but ignore what's waiting
down at the bottom of the stairs
  they say
  don't stare
  don't focus too hard
  or you will find that your fate
  isn't
   going
    anywhere-

if you wake up
empty stomach
tired and hungry
and pour coffee down into the empty hole,
it will slide right through
- such is life;
sometimes
racing myself to the bathroom
is a more pleasurable experience
than not visiting those marble floors at all
that day
that week
those three weeks-
it is by far
the more pleasurable experience
to feel the burn in my stomach
the churn
and groan
than to have nothing happen at all
-such is life;
it is an odd enlightenment
to be aware of the pleasure received
from the release of what we spend filling ourselves up with.
we fill ourselves
we stuff ourselves
and we eagerly await to get rid of it,
and we enjoy it,
at least I do,
for although such things are not what we discuss,
it is what we feel
it is who we are
-such is life