Have you ever looked at someone....
And wanted to say something...
But decided it wasn't important enough?
No matter how important it is to you...
You don't want to burden someone
With thoughts that plague you...
And consume you.
Thoughts that have become all you know.

These thoughts are relative to you.
To your mental well being...
But knowing what they could become...
Is far more devastating than what they are....
And that is one reason you remain silent.
Just lost in the reflection of their eyes.

New book

Everything eventually falls into place.
Nothing can fall apart forever.
When one chapter ends...
Another begins and the plot continues.

In these latter chapters,
I find the protagonist really coming into their own.
It's becoming a great story.

Suppressed Memories pt. 1

My mother was in an abusive relationship when I was very young.
I didn't understand at the time,
But I knew I didn't like it.
I saw him hit her once in a staircase...
The sound of his hand across her face...
Echoed through the project building.

She tried to leave him...
So he held her hostage in our apt...
With my sister and I there...
He raped and beat her for days...
Until she convinced him to let her go to work...
And take us to school for fear of people becoming suspicious...
Because she's smart like that.
But we didn't go back home that day...
In fact...
Weeks later when we returned...
He had burned the entire apartment down
Pets, clothes, toys, jewelry and all

Closure.

I am doing so well.
I guess that's what closure is about.
When you don't have any more questions.
When you're no longer filled with doubt.
When things make sense...
And you can see the bigger picture.
Even better when you find out...
You posed for it,
But the picture isn't with ya.

Because then there are no grey areas.
No grandeur illusions to be concocted.
It is black and white.

I realize there is no scenario where things could've gone differently.
There is nothing I could've done or said.
I didn't belong there. Period.
That space was never for me.
I merely played a role.
And that's okay.
I was there for someone when they needed someone.
I take pride in that.
I'm a great person,
And I know when someone needs me...
Not just someone...
I'll be able to appreciate it more, now.

Closure.

I still get nervous

When I kissed your lips last night...
They were softer than they've ever been.
Sweeter than I remembered...
And as addictive as a line of coke.

Not like that first kiss.

Gosh I was so nervous.

Sweaty palms...
Over thinking...
I missed my moment...
Damn I've been waiting for this...
Don't let her just go...
But now it'll be awkward...
Nothing like you planned...
No finesse.. no caress...
But she's leaving...
Fuck it.... do something!
Come back!!!
Oh gosh...she's really coming back....
Now what?!
Kiss her!!!!!!!!

No.
Nothing like that.
But,
I was still nervous...
I've kissed you a million times after that...
Yet the last time...
last night...
I was still nervous.

My nightmare

Last night I had a dream.
It shook me to my core.
I woke up so much angrier
Than I think I've ever been before.
Tears filled my eyes.
My heart was racing...
Yet barely beating.
And the air that filled my chest...
Had thoroughly been depleted.

I couldn't wait to wake up....
And I guess I still can't.

MY UFO

I once had a boat...
It drifted out to sea.
I thought that I would never see it again.
Years would pass...
And my boat...
She came back...
But I gave up my passion for sailing...
For a brand new craft.

The ocean is deep...
As were my feelings about sailing...
But the vast infinity of space
For me was far more revealing...
When I searched for a handle...
I found it out there...
While my boat was drifting...
Out towards the middle of nowhere.

I'm not always the most beautiful...
Or the most in shape.
I'm not even the smartest or funniest.
I have several speech impediments
That I work through everyday.
I am very critical of myself,
And I sometimes hate the person I have become....
Not because I'm the asshole that I used to be...
But because I feel... when I didn't before.

When people used to describe me...
The first trait usually stated was nonchalant....
I didn't let things phase me...
Especially not little things...
But now at 25 I care so much...
About everything....
I'm such a different person....
It's scary.
Who am I becoming?

There is a deep feeling of emptiness.
In my shallow pool of feelings.
My heart is barely beating...
Because I'm still retrieving pieces...
That are scattered like the ashes
Of the old heart breaks in the past
And I know that I'm so jaded...
Because of all the smiling faces...
That promised that they'd love me...
But only left me desecrated.

Hanging by an artery...
There's barely any heart left in me.
I'm popping pills to help me feel
less depressed and more normally
Anxiety is inside of me.
Flush it out with drugs, alcohol and weed.
Numb me up.
I give no fucks
I accept who I am entirely.

My life can be a nightmare.
That I can not escape.
Happiness is great at evasion
In my life and so I skate.
On a thin line between Okay and sad.
Never knowing which I'll feel next.
Or if this will finally be the time....
That forever in peace,
I'll rest.

The Tulip

I planted a seed.
Showered it with affection...
Listened to its insecurities.
And reminded it of its beauty.
Then I waited for it to bloom.

Cultivating anything requires patience.
So I waited.

Every morning I'd greet that seed
With warmth, love and compassion.
Every night,
I kissed the ground that would bear it's fruit.

Love and patience go hand in hand.
Without one,
How can you have the other?
I reassured myself as I waited for a sign.

A sign that my efforts weren't in vain.
A sign that what I was doing was working.
Just a sign to continue.
That's all I wanted...
Then I saw it...
A little baby leaf burrowing through the dirt.

Over the next few days, a Tulip grew.
And I watched as someone admired it,
Then uprooted it.
To take as their own.
That seed that I loved unconditionally...
Never belonged to me.

I hoped to wake up
to intricately placed kisses,
your warm body,
And soft tongue this morning.

Instead, I woke up.
My reality is...
far more bitter than my dreams.
And that's life.

Patience

The patient waited on a cure
to this infection she had acquired.
It came in through subtle lips.
And sparked her soul on fire.
It spread through her blood stream..
Making its way to her aching heart.
At night she would observe the cosmos.
Wondering when it all would stop.
The patient was so patient.
Because patience is said to be virtuous.
But the faster the infection spread,
The more they realized it was hazardous.
She lost her life that night
That the infection entirely engulfed her
But it was quite alright
Because she realized she was special.
Not most can exhibit
The type of patience that this patient had.
When that virus comes to take you over,
A very thin line you tread.
There is no cure,
So patiently wait you will.
To see what will come of love.
And whether your destiny will be fulfilled.

Roll the Credits

I must be April's fool.
But I'm still waiting for the punchline.
Punch to the gut.
Uppercut.
Heart.
Flat Line.

It sucks dicks

Every time I hug you....
Kiss you...
Even just think about you...
It's a twisting blade through my chest.
But I love you so much....
That I dwell in that pain.
I pull you nearer...
Ignoring this unbearable...
Mind numbing...
Torture.
Just so I can be with you....
If only for a second.

When you are gone.
My body aches for that hurt.
Because of this fucked up desire for you.
It craves your smell...
So much so that your scent lingers
In my nostrils...
Or maybe just in my mind...
Long after you're gone.
I hear your voice when you're not around.
The mere mention of your name
Makes me warm inside.
And it sucks dicks.

I want to give you everything.
All of me.
Entirely.
But it's not enough.
And that's what hurts the most.
Because I just wish I were.

What do I do?

Security is something that I desire.
But not necessarily in regards to finance.
It's just that I require to know
Exactly which way to go.
If your light never turns yellow,
How will I know to slow?

I do not know if what I'm doing is right.
I just want whatever will leave you happy at night.
Tell me to leave,
And I'll try not to put up a fight.
But say something.
Tell me what you want me to do.

Memoirs of a Love Lost

There are so many memories...
Sparked by so many things.
Like when I hear lucky ass bitch...
I think of hot boxing in cocaine.
I miss the way we used to be
Like when I would fight to stay up...
Waiting for you to get off of work.
Just so we could smoke and eat.
And fuck up some Gears of War.

Addicted to addiction

I just craved my very first cigarette.
The feeling of addiction...
Is far too familiar.
So I recognize it right away.

I'm addicted to being addicted.
So many addictions...
That I never can quit them.
I just take one and replace it...
With a brand new fix.
It fills the void left inside me.
Addiction.

It's something about the consistency
That is reassuring and comforting.
I'm addicted to a routine.
I get thrown off so often.
Consistently inconsistent men and women
Enter and exit my life,
Chaotic and hectic.
My own routine makes it easy to maintain
My sanity.
Does addiction keep me sane?
That sounds crazy.
But so does "I'm addicted to addiction"

I just want to be happy

I'm tired of love's sardonic grin
Casting this shadow over my life.
It forces me to become jaded,
To the point where I can't take it.
I cry beneath the shower stream.
While this insidious enemy tortures me.

I just want to be happy.

FTS

Fuck this shit.

When I look inside myself.
Unsure of what goes where.
Ignoring the desires that I have.
In order to help others persevere.
I find that it eats at my soul...
Piece by piece...
The good within me...
Once whole and solid.
Is crumbling and slipping from my grasp.
So I'm saying...
Fuck this shit.

I realize that I have my faults,
But I know I'm worth the risk.
So,
You can straddle your safe bets.
While I say fuck this shit.
I'm done wasting my time.
Eagerly waiting for good news...
Only to be bombarded by disappointment
And to be tormented by....
"Not quite the right time"
"I'm just living the single life"
And blatant rejection that stings like a bitch.
My ego is allergic to failure.
Good thing my mind is like an epipen.
Healing the allergic reaction...
With a healthy dose of
Fuck this shit.

If you and I were...
What would come of that?
If I could have what I want...
Would I even be happy?
Do I really want that?
What happens to fulfilled desires?
Where does that yearning go?
That feeling...
comparable to...
Christmas morning.
Excitement and curiosity flooding your body.
What happens to it?
When the presents are all unwrapped...
And you got everything that you wanted.
.... What happens next?