They're gone
She was crying this morning
It's like an apocalypse of love
Doesn't seem to be much hope

Then how can you still be here
In my peripheral vision
How are we expected to last
If no one else could

It's actually pathetic.
She fell for some *******
       someone taken
       some gay guy
       someone out of her league
        some *******
How could she be so stupid?
She did it again at 9 years old
                            at 10
                                 13
                                 16
                                  21
Like a pattern of chaotic yet predictable events.
She knew it was coming: the pointlessness of it all. It would always end up the same way.
Why can't she be normal? she asked
She asked that every single day.

Like a rock in a stream or a tree in a herd of antelope,
I stood.
Their noise surrounding me, beating me, hurting me
But all I could do was stay.
In my own little bubble you've made.
So much effect you have on me;
That I can find myself crying in a room of staring faces who wonder what on earth I could be.

I look at my life and see two roads.
And I stand against the current, I'm standing between them and hoping I won't have to choose.
I'm a laundry basket of jealousy, frustration and worry.
I'm constantly walking on egg shells because I don't want anything to change.
I don't want to upset you
I don't want to anger you
I don't want to lose you.
So I hide behind someone who isn't fully myself.
Because you know not yet who you are. And I guess I don't too.

We are carcasses in this life and our paths will show what we choose to show. But your emptiness frightens me and I feel it my duty to fill you.
But I'm torn between someone who cares and someone who can't. I'm torn because the perfect piece of paper I once was is no longer something salvageable.
You aren't the same. So I guess I'm not too.

But I turn to something that isn't stable to help me out of my own battles. I turn to a floating piece of plastic and expect it to help me stay afloat.

These two roads are both a part of myself. These roads aren't a mangled lie or a twisted fib,
They are who I am, just not to the full extent.
You aren't you to the full extent.
And I guess, I'm not too.

Underwater there is no sound.
No echoes of voices and hatred and loud
Screams of past loves that knock on the door.
Deep under water, that's all from before.
There, you breathe - in and out in and out. There are no consequences, no shame, no doubt.
There I am free.
Yet
It remains.
A soft, subtle beat.
No matter the pain, regardless of name, it remains.
It just
Won't
Go Away
My heart kept beating,
Though I begged it not to stay.

I'm impatient
I'm afraid
Not consistent
I'm drowning again
I'm a hypocrite
You're my one weakness
I'm a hypocrite
And you're my one weakness.

She wrote his songs
He played them.

She thought for hours, about harmonies and melodies, chords and steps, words and rhymes.
He played them.

They decided he was great, poetic and good.
He decided he liked that.

She wrote his songs.
He played them.

Like a child's first steps, I begin to trust, rely and give in.
Later on there will be hard times; I will fall on the ground.
I'll become vulnerable and childlike,
and need the assurance of a helping hand.
We need those first steps,
while it's exciting and new,
before we are jaded and unwilling
And we sit down.

It's strange how tragedy is addictive.
Like a drug, sadness
takes
over.
We believe it's for our benefit, that we will only grow.
And maybe we will. Some grotesquely formed lesson out of a complete catastrophe.
What doesn't **** you, can leave us badly, badly damaged.
But our hearts will be exercised, and they will bleed, but only for our "good".

That's the lesson, right?

I think we get attatched
and we need something to coax us off of love
We go from heartbreak to happiness
Only because without it, our hearts would give up
Our minds wouldn't think straight
Our mouths couldn't utter words
We are not living unless we are constantly fearing the loss of another.

I’m staring at the mirror,
seeking all my faults.
Every single one MUST BE the reason your love haults.
my eyes, like wolves, sniffing out the lines
that form my scars,
the cells in my highway-veins flow quick like racing cars.
tears as rain fall onto the bathroom tiles
while my heart is cold and weary,
I’ve walked 1000 miles.

Suddenly, you appear.
Life throws you at me and laughs in my face. 'An Impossible Yearning' life taunts.
I want to be close to you, but you distance yourself. I want you, but you want her.
You are impossible. You are my impossible. Is she yours?
Does every soul have a mate, and an impossible? Or only one of the two?
What am I?
A possible, just waiting for my match? Waiting for my impossible, who never arrives.
Others who, just like me, are unwanted and unloved, wait for their impossible. Wait. Forever they wait, and life laughs at them.
You are so amazingly, unbearably unreachable. My impossible.
I am lost, in your eyes, I am lost, in this life.
I am lost in a sea of possibles.
But, no - wait. My impossible will come.

If not, how can I be possible?

The one he loves stares up into space
The one she longs for is so far away
He can’t count how many lights there are
She doesn’t care; he’s too far, far.
The moon shouts “There! There! He sits by your side!”
She sighs, “Where could my love hide?”
The one he longs for doesn’t see
He cries, “For - she loves, but not for me!”
She gazes at stars as he swoons at her
She longs for love, never returned
Under the moon, his heart is breaking
Under the moon, where she spoke;
“My love, I’ve had enough.
You’re too far gone.”
Yet she doesn’t give up; she carries on.
He sings a song, heard high up in the clouds.
But, the cruel ground is weighing her down.
She doesn’t hear, though he shouts,
“I would steal that big blue moon.
If that would make you satisfied.
Your feelings, now, are made clear.
But why can’t you just see that I’m here?
The moon knows, the stars do too
No one but I is meant for you. But that won’t make you satisfied.”
The one he loves will not sit and look at the moon that tells her,
“he’s been there all along.”
She is too discontent, too oblivious.
And he is too hopeful, too ignorant.

timid breath of winter
shy and silent
sigh, gasp and shout
the cold at its peak
slowly comes the winter,
slowly comes the grief
as sadness fills the valley
when words are brief

If love is a temptation, i am a sinner
If love is a habit, i am an addict
If love is a weight, tie me onto it,
If love is a burden, i want to embrace it.
If love is something i can touch and feel
If love is something i know is real,
i want to hold it close to me for longer than life.
If love is a question, my answer is yes
if love wasn’t here, i wouldn’t be, so i guess
that If love is a lie, i am not alive.
If love is what everyone dreams of, but most fall short
i want to love love that is definitely worth
the pain and the sadness, because love is a virus.
but If love was a sickness, and If i was offered a cure
i would refuse, and come back for more.

And when the fires of fear and hate
Slaughter your hope and burn your faith
As your concentration begins to lapse
You find your life due to collapse
The ashes that fell, now layer your mind
Sinister darkness not far behind
Your rabbit hunt over, no prize to win
You see yourself being consumed by sin
The wounds that were given
Were every single thing that you wanted
That’s why you were driven
To feel something was necessitated
A large open field, covered in flames
No one is searching, no one screaming your name
You were left alone without a single friend
The world didn’t even say goodbye when life came to an end
Fall to the ground, the battle is lost
No more spare change, no final cost
On your knees as the evil attacks
The fire burning red as your mind goes black
But, what legacy was left behind?
Which finishing touches that helped mankind?
The hands that didn’t make a stand
Are now covering the face that never shined
Darkness closing in as your world is erupting
Your eyes slowly open, just waiting for something
Now where’s the hero who you needed so badly?
The one you thought would stop at nothing
You wanted a leader who never came through
It’s all done, your hopes and dreams won’t come true
Fire burns through the field as the temperature rises
But you always forget this; THE HERO IS YOU.
You feel your legs moving as you get onto your feet
And suddenly you don’t much care for the heat
The flames turn to water as you slowly smile
Dying is the easy way, and that’s not your style
The cold clear liquid of pure, hopeful trust
Causes every demon to turn into dust
You don’t feel that pain; it was never there
Submerged in the water you burst out for air

The sun, once again is dazzling and new
You are the leader you knew could come though
Your fears have drowned, and your hate is dead
Now nothing like that can break into your head

As you drift towards land, you now make a vow
That everything is possible, some way and somehow.
Never let the darkness cover up light
Though with every sunny day comes a chilling night

So when the fires of fear and hate
Slaughter your hope and burn your faith
The overwhelming light that is inside of you
Will drown out the darkness, and you’ll start anew

We all believe in something great that we will witness,
In this sea of hopeful people, everybody's got the sickness.

I'm not the only one who wants a way out; we all want to be free.
There's no cure this far down, we've got the dreamer's disease .

I am a *******
Only it doesn't show on my arm or my wrist
I am an abuser of the heart, the soul.
No other words can describe it - I enjoy the pain of heartbreak.
Do I feel a rush every time you forget about me? Do I go on a high when you put me down? Do I crave the silence, the awkward looks, the indifference?
YES!
Is this pain the only thing my heart will ever witness?
YES!!
You are the pain giver; you cause these wounds
But if I'm a *******, I should be grateful to you.

It starts with the shock.
The disbelief, the sudden pain of what you've lost.
Lives, like matches, will burn out.
But the time and place that may occur, that's what worries me most.

Every word, every action could be the last. Nothing lasts.
Some things, the things that make you choke and cry and wish them false, are too hard to ask.

Each dew on the grass is a fatal item, every bird that sings
and every human on the earth.
No one deserves to go.
No one deserves to go.

It started with shock,
And it ended with a truth.
I, along with everyone else, am vital.
I am true.
And though his matchstick has now burnt out,
He was too.