probably the hardest part of our breakup
was the fact that we lived in a small town.
it wasn't the gossip -- although there was plenty of gossip.
no, it was everywhere we'd gone together,
and the fact that every time i went some place
i was reminded in some way of you.
every time i went to the diner,
by myself, with family, or friends,
i'd glance over at our booth in the corner,
recall joking how you no-so-delicately
smothered everything in ketchup
and remember the taste of your mouth afterward.
every time i'd go to see a movie at the drive-in
all i could think of was the smell of your car,
mixed with gasoline, popcorn, and smuggled beer.
i'd get so cold sitting there in the car,
and then remember the blanket
we used to huddle under to stay warm.
our old high school is probably the worst.
it's what i drive past every day on my way to work,
and is a bitter reminder of happier days.
i constantly ask myself what i did wrong,
only to remember those words you said:
"it's not you, it's me."
was it, really?
Friday, December 10, 2010
Wednesday, December 08, 2010
it's always ridiculous looking back
at the heart-breakers, the what-ifs,
the could-have-beens and happily-ever-afters.
you almost laugh at the silly things
like first and last name combinations
or what you'd name your children.
at the time you're so engrossed
and often drowning in a sea
of potential love and harmony.
yet when you finally surface
it isn't despair -- but relief --
that the future is still yours.
at the heart-breakers, the what-ifs,
the could-have-beens and happily-ever-afters.
you almost laugh at the silly things
like first and last name combinations
or what you'd name your children.
at the time you're so engrossed
and often drowning in a sea
of potential love and harmony.
yet when you finally surface
it isn't despair -- but relief --
that the future is still yours.
even now
even now, i enjoy the smile
that has changed so much,
yet somehow looks the same
as the day you were born.
i still can't resist you,
even though i try.
and gone are the days
when tickling actually worked.
seeing you hurt, inside or out,
is in some ways more painful
than feeling pain myself,
or having my own heart broken.
even now, as a grown woman,
with your head in my lap
and tears on your cheeks,
i love being your father.
that has changed so much,
yet somehow looks the same
as the day you were born.
i still can't resist you,
even though i try.
and gone are the days
when tickling actually worked.
seeing you hurt, inside or out,
is in some ways more painful
than feeling pain myself,
or having my own heart broken.
even now, as a grown woman,
with your head in my lap
and tears on your cheeks,
i love being your father.
Wednesday, December 01, 2010
stomach and chest tighten
deep breathing to no avail
nerves and fanciful what-ifs
swimming around in my mind
i will them to pass, to go away
and leave me at peace again,
but anything worth having
often comes at a price.
it won't go away, none of it.
the feeling under my solar plexus,
the thoughts that belong in dreams,
the future i'll never have.
deep breathing to no avail
nerves and fanciful what-ifs
swimming around in my mind
i will them to pass, to go away
and leave me at peace again,
but anything worth having
often comes at a price.
it won't go away, none of it.
the feeling under my solar plexus,
the thoughts that belong in dreams,
the future i'll never have.
Tuesday, November 09, 2010
half covered in blankets
with one foot on the floor
i watch the fan wobble and whir
and the bare light bulb flicker,
turning a coffee table of empty beer bottles
into a flashing display of color.
i rub the handgun across my forehead
like i've done so many times before,
contemplating a decision
i know i'll never make.
with one foot on the floor
i watch the fan wobble and whir
and the bare light bulb flicker,
turning a coffee table of empty beer bottles
into a flashing display of color.
i rub the handgun across my forehead
like i've done so many times before,
contemplating a decision
i know i'll never make.
Saturday, October 30, 2010
it's nights like these
i remember all the
fucked up things about
my life and who i am,
why i'm still alone
and entirely unfulfilled
with the course of
where i'm going and
where i've been.
completely unsatisfied
with my life thus far
and wondering if
it's possible to erase
who i am and start
as someone better,
start as someone i
might even love.
i remember all the
fucked up things about
my life and who i am,
why i'm still alone
and entirely unfulfilled
with the course of
where i'm going and
where i've been.
completely unsatisfied
with my life thus far
and wondering if
it's possible to erase
who i am and start
as someone better,
start as someone i
might even love.
Thursday, October 28, 2010
italy
we went to italy together,
both in our 20s,
wanting to see more of the world.
our hotel overlooked
the venetian canals
packed with tourists.
at sunset we'd stroll
through golden streets
bustling with activity.
we made love,
mostly in the afternoon,
when the heat made us lazy.
we enjoyed the art,
paintings, buildings, food,
mostly in silence.
it was in those moments
we shared something great
that we can never get back.
both in our 20s,
wanting to see more of the world.
our hotel overlooked
the venetian canals
packed with tourists.
at sunset we'd stroll
through golden streets
bustling with activity.
we made love,
mostly in the afternoon,
when the heat made us lazy.
we enjoyed the art,
paintings, buildings, food,
mostly in silence.
it was in those moments
we shared something great
that we can never get back.
Sunday, September 19, 2010
pieces
as a young man he yearned for love
but was never blessed by its embrace.
not knowing why it eluded him so,
he slowly closed his heart to the world.
harbored behind stone walls
that served as a layer of thick armor,
he gradually forgot his loneliness
and the longing for the forbidden.
years and years passed by,
with never so much as a dent
in the impenetrable fortress
he built around his soul.
imagine a man who never thirsted
go centuries without so much as a sip.
then on a particularly warm day,
years of thirst crashed on him at once.
such was the effect on his heart
when his invincible shield that
he thought was his protection
shattered to pieces at last.
but was never blessed by its embrace.
not knowing why it eluded him so,
he slowly closed his heart to the world.
harbored behind stone walls
that served as a layer of thick armor,
he gradually forgot his loneliness
and the longing for the forbidden.
years and years passed by,
with never so much as a dent
in the impenetrable fortress
he built around his soul.
imagine a man who never thirsted
go centuries without so much as a sip.
then on a particularly warm day,
years of thirst crashed on him at once.
such was the effect on his heart
when his invincible shield that
he thought was his protection
shattered to pieces at last.
Sunday, July 11, 2010
newlywed
there's something about marriage
you can't quite explain to newlyweds.
so you let them learn on their own,
through the bad times and the good.
at first they aim to please,
as they desperately seek
to avoid confrontation
at every possible juncture.
but soon the dam breaks,
both figuratively and with tears,
fights and yelling ensue; scars form
that may take months to fully heal.
after a long while the wedding day
and subsequent honeymoon fade,
details become forgotten,
like the first words you ever said to them.
if that couple is one of the lucky ones,
then just when love feels humdrum,
something will come along to spark it,
even for just one night.
those are the moments
that define a marriage.
the squeeze of a hand
that says i love you.
you can't quite explain to newlyweds.
so you let them learn on their own,
through the bad times and the good.
at first they aim to please,
as they desperately seek
to avoid confrontation
at every possible juncture.
but soon the dam breaks,
both figuratively and with tears,
fights and yelling ensue; scars form
that may take months to fully heal.
after a long while the wedding day
and subsequent honeymoon fade,
details become forgotten,
like the first words you ever said to them.
if that couple is one of the lucky ones,
then just when love feels humdrum,
something will come along to spark it,
even for just one night.
those are the moments
that define a marriage.
the squeeze of a hand
that says i love you.
i really, really want an apple,
but i've never, ever tasted one.
it's not that i'm not allowed,
and in fact i can't really say why.
i've licked one a few times,
just the right amount of exposure
to show me what i'm missing
and leave me crying for more.
day after day passes.
how come everyone
is eating apples but me?
and when will it be my turn?
but i've never, ever tasted one.
it's not that i'm not allowed,
and in fact i can't really say why.
i've licked one a few times,
just the right amount of exposure
to show me what i'm missing
and leave me crying for more.
day after day passes.
how come everyone
is eating apples but me?
and when will it be my turn?
Thursday, June 10, 2010
how do you re-enter the normal world
after your wife kills your baby?
leaves them floating face-down in the tub,
its cries finally muffled?
they say it was depression
mixed with words I can't pronounce.
words with funny spellings.
not words like Aaron.
they tell me she's sorry,
that she couldn't control it
and she really did love him.
they tell me because she can't.
how do you move on with your life
after it's been all but destroyed?
from where does one rebuild,
when all the pieces are shattered?
after your wife kills your baby?
leaves them floating face-down in the tub,
its cries finally muffled?
they say it was depression
mixed with words I can't pronounce.
words with funny spellings.
not words like Aaron.
they tell me she's sorry,
that she couldn't control it
and she really did love him.
they tell me because she can't.
how do you move on with your life
after it's been all but destroyed?
from where does one rebuild,
when all the pieces are shattered?
Thursday, June 03, 2010
anniversary on a sunny day
things were already on thin ice
before she ever walked through the door.
today was their anniversary, but, like always,
she wasn't expecting him to remember.
so when she saw him sitting at the table
with just a blank piece of paper and a sunburn,
no roses or chocolates at all,
her planned silence failed her.
he tried to explain, "no, baby, it's..."
but whatever it was, was lost,
her words exploded like bullets from a gun,
much to the same effect.
"can't you think of anything to say?"
"do you really feel nothing at all?"
"why waste your fucking time, then!"
"just go and get the fuck out!"
glasses shattered, water spilled,
and a dog next door started to bark.
stunned and without words,
he left her alone in the tiny kitchen.
she picked up the paper, its blankness mocking,
and sobbed tears, some sad, and some angry.
she didn't know if he'd be back,
and that only made her cry more.
she finally managed to wipe her eyes,
and looked once more at the sheet and saw,
a "Sunprint" watermark and something else,
an "I love you" for every time he'd forgot.
before she ever walked through the door.
today was their anniversary, but, like always,
she wasn't expecting him to remember.
so when she saw him sitting at the table
with just a blank piece of paper and a sunburn,
no roses or chocolates at all,
her planned silence failed her.
he tried to explain, "no, baby, it's..."
but whatever it was, was lost,
her words exploded like bullets from a gun,
much to the same effect.
"can't you think of anything to say?"
"do you really feel nothing at all?"
"why waste your fucking time, then!"
"just go and get the fuck out!"
glasses shattered, water spilled,
and a dog next door started to bark.
stunned and without words,
he left her alone in the tiny kitchen.
she picked up the paper, its blankness mocking,
and sobbed tears, some sad, and some angry.
she didn't know if he'd be back,
and that only made her cry more.
she finally managed to wipe her eyes,
and looked once more at the sheet and saw,
a "Sunprint" watermark and something else,
an "I love you" for every time he'd forgot.
Sunday, May 16, 2010
the ceo health club
living in a big city like this, the sex clubs aren't even a secret.
white-collar CEOs pay $60 by the hour to use some underage girl.
the bright, flashing neon signs of a massage parlor hide the truth --
vietnamese, korean and thai teens packed into secret rooms like the hundred dollar bills in their customers' wallets.
whenever i go to one of these clubs i always ask for their most experienced girl.
i pay the $120 for 2 hours and she leads me into a room where a makeshift curtain over the door provides our only privacy.
she takes off her clothes and reveals such a small pair of breasts i know she's not 18.
she reaches for my crotch and i grab her hand and say "no."
the thing you have to understand about these girls is that behind their perfunctory smiles
and fake orgasms there's really just a damaged soul.
when they aren't moaning they're crying and praying to a God other than the one whose name they scream during sex.
that's why instead of offering another penis to suck, tug and grind, i offer a shoulder to cry on.
white-collar CEOs pay $60 by the hour to use some underage girl.
the bright, flashing neon signs of a massage parlor hide the truth --
vietnamese, korean and thai teens packed into secret rooms like the hundred dollar bills in their customers' wallets.
whenever i go to one of these clubs i always ask for their most experienced girl.
i pay the $120 for 2 hours and she leads me into a room where a makeshift curtain over the door provides our only privacy.
she takes off her clothes and reveals such a small pair of breasts i know she's not 18.
she reaches for my crotch and i grab her hand and say "no."
the thing you have to understand about these girls is that behind their perfunctory smiles
and fake orgasms there's really just a damaged soul.
when they aren't moaning they're crying and praying to a God other than the one whose name they scream during sex.
that's why instead of offering another penis to suck, tug and grind, i offer a shoulder to cry on.
Thursday, May 13, 2010
life as a dining hall
an enormously large hall
filled with numerous tables.
but i won't visit them all,
even if i was able.
i can walk through this place,
head to the exit at the end.
or i could stop and chat,
perhaps even make a friend.
so what's it going to be?
head down or chin up?
leave after the main course,
or have the waiter refill my cup?
i may just stay awhile,
perhaps i'll find a wife.
i can't even see the exit,
surrounded by all this life.
filled with numerous tables.
but i won't visit them all,
even if i was able.
i can walk through this place,
head to the exit at the end.
or i could stop and chat,
perhaps even make a friend.
so what's it going to be?
head down or chin up?
leave after the main course,
or have the waiter refill my cup?
i may just stay awhile,
perhaps i'll find a wife.
i can't even see the exit,
surrounded by all this life.
Thursday, May 06, 2010
vision
where i see large black
and white buttons,
a pianist sees melodic
rhythms and tones.
where i see a disfigured
face and crooked eyes,
an artist sees the tormented,
struggling soul within.
where i see a confusing array
of jumbled letters and numbers,
a genius sees pieces
of a much larger puzzle.
and where i see myself,
normal, ordinary and simple,
vying for a place in this world ...
you see so much more.
and white buttons,
a pianist sees melodic
rhythms and tones.
where i see a disfigured
face and crooked eyes,
an artist sees the tormented,
struggling soul within.
where i see a confusing array
of jumbled letters and numbers,
a genius sees pieces
of a much larger puzzle.
and where i see myself,
normal, ordinary and simple,
vying for a place in this world ...
you see so much more.
Tuesday, April 13, 2010
rock, paper, scissors
he had to have been at least 80,
his veiny, shaking hands
tossing salads and flipping burgers.
i worked for him as a waiter -
low pay and crappy hours.
but i always got the days off i wanted.
one time i asked for a saturday
so i could go see a concert downtown.
the day was also his anniversary.
'let's rock, paper, scissors for it,' he said.
my rock beat his shaking paper,
and for a minute i felt guilty.
another waiter tried the same thing
when no one could fill for them but the old man.
rock, paper, scissors, shoot ...
i wasn't surprised he picked paper.
his veiny, shaking hands
tossing salads and flipping burgers.
i worked for him as a waiter -
low pay and crappy hours.
but i always got the days off i wanted.
one time i asked for a saturday
so i could go see a concert downtown.
the day was also his anniversary.
'let's rock, paper, scissors for it,' he said.
my rock beat his shaking paper,
and for a minute i felt guilty.
another waiter tried the same thing
when no one could fill for them but the old man.
rock, paper, scissors, shoot ...
i wasn't surprised he picked paper.
Tuesday, March 30, 2010
running away
i stare into the night,
which always seems darker
on the outside looking in.
a streetlamp down the road
marks my first destination
on this harrowing journey.
a quick check of my motives
and a few deep breaths later,
i enter the dark silence.
which always seems darker
on the outside looking in.
a streetlamp down the road
marks my first destination
on this harrowing journey.
a quick check of my motives
and a few deep breaths later,
i enter the dark silence.
Thursday, March 25, 2010
never ending
how does one find purpose
in a boring nine-to-five job?
there is no deep meaning
in an everyday commute.
depression begins to sink in,
for tomorrow will be the same.
and the day after, and the next ...
what is it all for? to what end?
dissect my life into simple pieces,
such as work and livelihood ...
with a few moments of joy
strewn like sprinkles on a cake.
few and far between they are,
not enough to consider happiness.
so i live in the here and now ...
trying to convince myself it's enough.
in a boring nine-to-five job?
there is no deep meaning
in an everyday commute.
depression begins to sink in,
for tomorrow will be the same.
and the day after, and the next ...
what is it all for? to what end?
dissect my life into simple pieces,
such as work and livelihood ...
with a few moments of joy
strewn like sprinkles on a cake.
few and far between they are,
not enough to consider happiness.
so i live in the here and now ...
trying to convince myself it's enough.
Wednesday, March 24, 2010
wipers
the rain goes 'pitter-patter'
on the hospital room's window
as i wonder if the man in the bed
is scared of what comes next.
he's remembering his life,
which seems to be nothing but
one giant, momentary wisp
trailing throughout his mind.
driving home i can only blankly imagine
what must be going through his head.
it isn't even raining anymore,
but my wipers continue their tireless motion.
on the hospital room's window
as i wonder if the man in the bed
is scared of what comes next.
he's remembering his life,
which seems to be nothing but
one giant, momentary wisp
trailing throughout his mind.
driving home i can only blankly imagine
what must be going through his head.
it isn't even raining anymore,
but my wipers continue their tireless motion.
Saturday, March 20, 2010
ride
sometimes i stop and wonder
if they're truly the one
if these are just growing pains
or if we're finally done.
the sizzle's turned to fizzle
is this ride already through?
heart and mind tormented
what ever shall i do?
when i wake up in the morning
and see them lying there.
i lie and say i love you
for the truth i cannot bear.
if they're truly the one
if these are just growing pains
or if we're finally done.
the sizzle's turned to fizzle
is this ride already through?
heart and mind tormented
what ever shall i do?
when i wake up in the morning
and see them lying there.
i lie and say i love you
for the truth i cannot bear.
far from normalcy
i awake to my blaring clock,
and stare around my messy room
that i've promised myself i'd clean
about seven or eight times now.
i make a pb and j for lunch,
for the sixth time this week.
its taste loses something every day,
like a fading pair of jeans.
the hardest part of my day
is knowing i still have a long way to go,
before missing you isn't a part
of my normal, everyday routine.
and stare around my messy room
that i've promised myself i'd clean
about seven or eight times now.
i make a pb and j for lunch,
for the sixth time this week.
its taste loses something every day,
like a fading pair of jeans.
the hardest part of my day
is knowing i still have a long way to go,
before missing you isn't a part
of my normal, everyday routine.
Saturday, March 06, 2010
sweet dreams
she's just there before me,
almost as if she was real.
her mouth is something i see,
but never something i'll feel.
this is the place where,
reality succumbs to dreams.
this is the place that,
hopefulness reigns supreme.
some starving part of my brain
concocts this little charade.
but when the sun comes up,
i feel alone and betrayed.
when i realize i can't have her,
my chest swells with despair.
the sweet, innocent dream,
becomes another nightmare.
almost as if she was real.
her mouth is something i see,
but never something i'll feel.
this is the place where,
reality succumbs to dreams.
this is the place that,
hopefulness reigns supreme.
some starving part of my brain
concocts this little charade.
but when the sun comes up,
i feel alone and betrayed.
when i realize i can't have her,
my chest swells with despair.
the sweet, innocent dream,
becomes another nightmare.
Friday, January 29, 2010
doomed
petty, low, base feelings,
destroy us at our cores.
they cause us to fight,
and lead personal wars.
all lead down the same road,
to despair and regret.
remember how to be happy?
or did you just forget?
instincts shrouded in culture,
our nature hidden behind the glass.
shatter it and you will see ....
but you can't, alas.
destroy us at our cores.
they cause us to fight,
and lead personal wars.
all lead down the same road,
to despair and regret.
remember how to be happy?
or did you just forget?
instincts shrouded in culture,
our nature hidden behind the glass.
shatter it and you will see ....
but you can't, alas.
fly
only the pure of heart
can fly over the seas,
on wings of fearlessness
with courage for a breeze.
for they have something
we all go without.
where they have faith,
we have doubt.
a little nugget in our head,
screaming "no, you can't."
impossible is just a seed
growing into a full-fledged plant.
this attitude keeps you grounded,
forever attached to the floor.
if only you learned to let go,
then you, too, could someday soar.
can fly over the seas,
on wings of fearlessness
with courage for a breeze.
for they have something
we all go without.
where they have faith,
we have doubt.
a little nugget in our head,
screaming "no, you can't."
impossible is just a seed
growing into a full-fledged plant.
this attitude keeps you grounded,
forever attached to the floor.
if only you learned to let go,
then you, too, could someday soar.
an old crush
a crush in 11th grade,
blonde, large eyes,
sat in front of me
in 3rd period history.
one day she asked me
'do you know when we get out?'
the clock tick-tocked,
but my heart was stopped.
i'd like a crush like that again,
even if i never did talk to her.
i'd like to feel alive like that again,
even if i get hurt in the end.
blonde, large eyes,
sat in front of me
in 3rd period history.
one day she asked me
'do you know when we get out?'
the clock tick-tocked,
but my heart was stopped.
i'd like a crush like that again,
even if i never did talk to her.
i'd like to feel alive like that again,
even if i get hurt in the end.
Wednesday, January 27, 2010
an actor's death
he spent his entire life acting,
pretending to be happy or sad.
he even died a few times,
in war trenches and beds.
how tragic it must be,
to watch those movies now.
his name in the credits,
like a gravestone to his career.
pretending to be happy or sad.
he even died a few times,
in war trenches and beds.
how tragic it must be,
to watch those movies now.
his name in the credits,
like a gravestone to his career.
meth addiction
a cold, dead, white husk
constantly crawling at me,
inch by inch,
and i keep on running.
i gain some distance,
however little, every day.
but when it's time to sleep,
it's back there, getting closer.
is it gaining? falling behind?
the darkness is impenetrable.
inevitably, out of nowhere,
a vice-like grip gets a hold of me.
i punch it in the face
until my knuckles bleed.
but still it hangs on
and i'm dragged under again.
constantly crawling at me,
inch by inch,
and i keep on running.
i gain some distance,
however little, every day.
but when it's time to sleep,
it's back there, getting closer.
is it gaining? falling behind?
the darkness is impenetrable.
inevitably, out of nowhere,
a vice-like grip gets a hold of me.
i punch it in the face
until my knuckles bleed.
but still it hangs on
and i'm dragged under again.
mug
a newspaper sits on the floor,
propped up like a tent.
its pages spilled everywhere,
like guts from a sliced stomach.
only the comics page lies
on the kitchen table.
one headline reads:
boy found dead in ditch.
on the way to the recycle bin
it slips and is blown away by the wind.
a circle left behind by a wet coffee cup
frames the mug shot of the boy.
propped up like a tent.
its pages spilled everywhere,
like guts from a sliced stomach.
only the comics page lies
on the kitchen table.
one headline reads:
boy found dead in ditch.
on the way to the recycle bin
it slips and is blown away by the wind.
a circle left behind by a wet coffee cup
frames the mug shot of the boy.
Monday, January 25, 2010
I fucking hate grocery shopping
The whiny little shits
in the cereal aisle
who don't get want they want
and need to get slapped ...
And the ones who trail
behind their parents silently -
even through the candy section -
They've probably been slapped today.
The waddling pregnant woman
buying a case of High Life.
Who's that white trash kidding,
we know it's not for her husband.
The black thug eyeing an endcap
of Chap-Stic and hand lotion...
He's really eyeing that old woman
whose purse is barely hanging on.
A 30-something dude with long hair,
cross around his neck, holding a Bible,
wearing sandals with socks.
Fucking born-again Christian.
Middle-aged blonde in a skirt
up to the bottom of her ass.
I wonder who she's fucking.
Personal trailer? Her pool boy?
Disgusted, I go to check out,
where a sweet girl rings me up.
She probably wants to kill me
for delaying her lunch break.
Walking out I pass the ice,
and see my reflection in the glass.
This guy - this guy right here -
He's just fucking pathetic.
in the cereal aisle
who don't get want they want
and need to get slapped ...
And the ones who trail
behind their parents silently -
even through the candy section -
They've probably been slapped today.
The waddling pregnant woman
buying a case of High Life.
Who's that white trash kidding,
we know it's not for her husband.
The black thug eyeing an endcap
of Chap-Stic and hand lotion...
He's really eyeing that old woman
whose purse is barely hanging on.
A 30-something dude with long hair,
cross around his neck, holding a Bible,
wearing sandals with socks.
Fucking born-again Christian.
Middle-aged blonde in a skirt
up to the bottom of her ass.
I wonder who she's fucking.
Personal trailer? Her pool boy?
Disgusted, I go to check out,
where a sweet girl rings me up.
She probably wants to kill me
for delaying her lunch break.
Walking out I pass the ice,
and see my reflection in the glass.
This guy - this guy right here -
He's just fucking pathetic.
Friday, January 22, 2010
A Different Kind of Pain
Started smokin' when she left me,
Now it's one or two packs a day.
Mom says it's not good for me,
But I do it anyway.
Tradin' one hurt for another,
First my heart and now my lungs.
If only I was stronger,
If only I was young.
Like I'm lost inside a forest,
Surrounded by decay.
The sun is slowly fading,
I light one up to show the way.
Now it's one or two packs a day.
Mom says it's not good for me,
But I do it anyway.
Tradin' one hurt for another,
First my heart and now my lungs.
If only I was stronger,
If only I was young.
Like I'm lost inside a forest,
Surrounded by decay.
The sun is slowly fading,
I light one up to show the way.
Fake It
There's this little thing I do,
with everyone I know.
I smile and laugh and joke.
I put on a show.
Happy and jovial and together,
that's what they think of me.
When behind closed doors I cry,
until about 2 or 3.
I know I'm not the only one,
who chooses to live this way.
I'm your average, sad bloke,
Trying to get through the day.
with everyone I know.
I smile and laugh and joke.
I put on a show.
Happy and jovial and together,
that's what they think of me.
When behind closed doors I cry,
until about 2 or 3.
I know I'm not the only one,
who chooses to live this way.
I'm your average, sad bloke,
Trying to get through the day.
Pursuit of Happiness
Chasing it like a dream
that slips through your mind
like sand through your fingers,
yearning to be forgotten.
Seemingly unattainable
like a gust of wind
blowing through your open hands,
never to be stopped and grabbed.
It scampers and hides
down the rabbit hole
that is your soul,
yearning to be found.
that slips through your mind
like sand through your fingers,
yearning to be forgotten.
Seemingly unattainable
like a gust of wind
blowing through your open hands,
never to be stopped and grabbed.
It scampers and hides
down the rabbit hole
that is your soul,
yearning to be found.
Friday, January 15, 2010
that feeling you get
you know the feeling you get,
when you are so parched
you can't even swallow,
and then have a glass of ice cold water?
you know the feeling you get,
when you've been on your feet
for the entire day,
and finally get to sit down?
you know the feeling you get,
when you tell someone close
a big, fat, juicy secret,
and your chest feels suddenly lighter?
that is pretty much how i feel
when i watch you sleep,
feel your touch,
and hear your voice.
when you are so parched
you can't even swallow,
and then have a glass of ice cold water?
you know the feeling you get,
when you've been on your feet
for the entire day,
and finally get to sit down?
you know the feeling you get,
when you tell someone close
a big, fat, juicy secret,
and your chest feels suddenly lighter?
that is pretty much how i feel
when i watch you sleep,
feel your touch,
and hear your voice.
little flower
she walks through the garden,
slowly, and with care.
seeking no particular thing,
just looking here and there.
rows of roses and beds of buttercups
extend in every which way.
but what this girl is looking for,
not even she can say.
humming, ambling,
dreaming all the while.
when suddenly she spots,
a mound of dirt in a pile.
a few defiant, withered petals
stared her in the face.
so sad and pathetic
in such a beautiful place.
so when she scooped it from the dirt,
held it close and hummed a song,
that little flower finally knew,
it had found a place to belong ...
slowly, and with care.
seeking no particular thing,
just looking here and there.
rows of roses and beds of buttercups
extend in every which way.
but what this girl is looking for,
not even she can say.
humming, ambling,
dreaming all the while.
when suddenly she spots,
a mound of dirt in a pile.
a few defiant, withered petals
stared her in the face.
so sad and pathetic
in such a beautiful place.
so when she scooped it from the dirt,
held it close and hummed a song,
that little flower finally knew,
it had found a place to belong ...
you're never truly alone
when you live in a world like this.
others will always share your pain,
your loneliness, and heartbreak.
when it seems like all is lost,
reach out and make a connection.
remember you are one of many
going through this challenge called life.
the best thing about this life we live,
is we can make it whatever we want.
so fake it if you have to -
and eventually it may come true.
live like the next best thing,
is just around the corner.
no matter how long it takes,
because, eventually ... it is.
when you live in a world like this.
others will always share your pain,
your loneliness, and heartbreak.
when it seems like all is lost,
reach out and make a connection.
remember you are one of many
going through this challenge called life.
the best thing about this life we live,
is we can make it whatever we want.
so fake it if you have to -
and eventually it may come true.
live like the next best thing,
is just around the corner.
no matter how long it takes,
because, eventually ... it is.
Thursday, January 14, 2010
incoherence
more than anything i miss being a child. i miss believing in santa claus and the tooth fairy. i miss being ignorant.
when the magic leaves your life, and you realize how cold and cruel the world can be, things start to change. your outlook on life starts to warp.
there are no miracles, only coincidences. good things happen to bad people, and bad things happen to good people. things happen for no reason.
the fact of the matter is most people live incredibly boring lives. they do nothing of real importance, nothing that affects a large scale of people, and then they die. that's why so many people cling to ideals like family, to give their lives some shred of meaning.
others are married to their work, to their visions. i have no such thing to live for. not right now.
all i have right now is the knowledge that, like most people, i am vastly insignificant. in a hundred year's time my existence will have meant nothing, like most people. what i do today and how i approach tomorrow, therefore, are only for my benefit, for how i choose to live my life.
life is too short for me to feel this way. a change is needed. one only i can supply. the only question, then, is whether or not i will.
when the magic leaves your life, and you realize how cold and cruel the world can be, things start to change. your outlook on life starts to warp.
there are no miracles, only coincidences. good things happen to bad people, and bad things happen to good people. things happen for no reason.
the fact of the matter is most people live incredibly boring lives. they do nothing of real importance, nothing that affects a large scale of people, and then they die. that's why so many people cling to ideals like family, to give their lives some shred of meaning.
others are married to their work, to their visions. i have no such thing to live for. not right now.
all i have right now is the knowledge that, like most people, i am vastly insignificant. in a hundred year's time my existence will have meant nothing, like most people. what i do today and how i approach tomorrow, therefore, are only for my benefit, for how i choose to live my life.
life is too short for me to feel this way. a change is needed. one only i can supply. the only question, then, is whether or not i will.
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