should i love like before?
should i be whisked away like a field of crops during the windy winter war?
should i be caught up in futures without a foundation of becoming a truest truth while living a life that’s built on surprise?
should i jump from atop this cliff?
should i take the plunge with a life less lived than that of her and him from decades before the vegan craze?
should i build a garden?
should i build a new tomorrow?
should i rebuild my old tomorrow for a future that we all hoped and bothered for?
should i change my favorite color?
should i change my favorite summer?
should i change my favorite number?
should i hope for a day unlike tomorrow?
should i keep asking myself these questions without points, while in this crowded starbucks and call it poetry?
can i live?
always and forever
I’ll be happy being sad for the rest of my life.
A joyful contradiction after losing family and even a wife.
I’d gladly look back what I’ve done in the hindsight,
Than slash it all and blossom with a new life perspective via a knife.
I want to buy my friends some kites and ride through the mountains on tricked out bikes to see the sunrise all through the night.
Happily, I’d take the plunge off a cliff into a sea sponge and take the sadness that keeps my friends and everyone I’ve made laugh hide in the dark.
I won’t be on this ground for long, but I can leave books for some to read and keep all of your pain for these year(s) that I have left.
Forever sad isn’t as bad as the lads would call it.
At least, I’d hope not.
She was the soft kiss that I dreamed of.
She was the warmness I had hoped for.
She held my hands as I fell to my knees and didn’t want to be anymore.
She held me close as I took pain away from others and couldn’t contain it any longer.
She comforted my nightmares and kept away my daily fears.
She did much more than a simple “I love you” could ever share.
Since she’s been gone, I close my eyes to relive every stare.
I can’t see myself with another, so my greatest fear is one that I’ll endure for no other.
Alone in tortured love is what I’ll strive to live under; but if it digs beyond a struggles breath, then happily lost is what I’ll be forgotten with.
I am a snail to new days and new faces.
I close my eyes to only hide myself from yesterday’s conversations.
My heart bleeds with cuts I held the blade to and patch up with disintegrating pieces of tissue.
Everything I have is a memory; and sometimes I wish have the ability to quickly forget, but God and the Mighty didn’t bless me with such a loving gift.
I renounced my happiness and am content with sadness, the dreariest of feeling.
I wish the best for those I’ve come close to, and plead with whomever that their stars shine dully into brightness.
For my star was at its highest, and burned out with a light of the brightest.
Every bright star is a shell of who happened from years and years ago.
We weren’t supposed to make it past 25, so on shaken knees I’ll stand cautiously as I await my time.
Shedding my light and the brightening the skies for the eyes I’ve cleared tears from throughout my quarter long life.
I’ve lost my happy.
I refuse to take hugs, handshakes, the mere salutations between friends and deeper connections that bring warmth to a normal man.
I don’t want ice cream on a calm night.
I don’t want to drive to a small donut shop in the PM for basic mix of icing and doughy crisps.
I don’t want to walk on the beach and sit on the rocks while waves crash during the sunset.
I don’t want to film the people around or take candid stills for a laugh.
And simply that, I don’t deserve to laugh until I fix what isn’t right.
I don’t want to stream seasons of shows that I used to watch because it isn’t right for me to do so.
I don’t want anything that reminds me of joy.
I don’t want to be warm like my friends around me.
I want to erase the dreams and futures I played out in my head.
I want to fix other’s misery and bury mine instead.
I want to live in a world as bland as grey skies than to falsely live in a vibrant world behind the truest of truthful lies:
I still wear my bracelet, and it reminds me that I’m happy.
All I see is a red spot.
The red dot from the corner clock I never thought to turn on.
All I think of is when the roads stop.
The end of the concrete that births a rosebud to see the new lot.
Idk what to write about without my words sounding regretful or sad.
If I continue down this path, I’d surely be a mad man and go away for good.
I’m just not done being me and moving my belongings into a better neighborhood.
It’s times like these that I listen to the screeching of Kurt.
I reason with the inner workings of Cobain and fall into the melodies of Grohl.
I find peace in Sam with each repeated line in Pray, and find my calm in Cudi being Confused.
The Love to my Cobain through thick and thin is gone like the voice in the Seattle attic.
I’m a follower of Scott, so I find solace in the man on the moon.
I ask her to Teleport 2 Me, and without fail I find myself to be a Ghost.
My mood is set on sorrowful weekdays with Gabby Aplin following my writing calmness.
Sad, but working on it every day.
Jim to Pam.
I hold my breath at the sound of November wind.
My eyes close at the sunset leaves as day turns to night.
I have a headache that I can’t shake, but I know what from.
My head aches at the thought of sleep.
I dream and dream of what was and what may never be.
I clear each driving tear that streams across my cheek as I pass the canyon’s peak.
I’m still not okay, but I’m working on it.
i don’t know how to think
i don’t know how to move
i don’t know what it means to get over what’s gone on for the past couple of months
i can’t breathe
like something has its nails dug deep into my chest holding my heart from beating
like grabbing hold of my air and letting little by little through the revolving door that is life
i think of what i’ve done better for my future and am brought back to when my life fell apart
i can only wipe these tears on the freeway, and smile when i make it to my destination because what drives a broken man to dramatics is the lasting loop of contemplation
Today, I am weak
Tomorrow, the same
Years from now, I’ll be okay
And away from this place
I never know where
But without a heart, I shall state
That to be somewhere great
You must be in a nowhere kinda place.
Idk where time went, or where it goes.
I do know that time is something that never, ever slows.
I wonder what she’s thinking of
I wonder what she’s up to
I wonder if she stays up late at night, studying for tests she doesn’t really have to
I wonder if she still watches the shows that made us laugh, or if she watches the movies that we said we’d finish fast
I wonder if she smiles as soon as she wakes to a new day
I wonder she still smirks at the ridiculousness that people say
I wonder if she cut her hair like she said she wanted to do
I wonder if she laughs for no reason like the weirdness I grew accustomed to
I wonder if she’s happy and I hope for that to still be true
I wonder if she dreams of then, like what my heart regularly tends to do.