Friday, March 28, 2014

Steam

What if there's more wrong with me than can be fixed?
What if no one ever thinks I'm worth it?
What if there's more wrong with me than can be fixed?

I sense every fragment of discontent.
I feel every moment of hesitance.
I can feel every bit of your dissonance.

I hate feeling old me coming back to the surface.
Just when I thought I'd beat all my demons.
I can't handle anything less than perfect.

I feel everything that's wrong beneath the surface.
I hate feeling old me coming back to the surface.


Monday, April 22, 2013

Sometimes it feels like
I only have bad things to remember.
Aren't memories supposed to make you smile
at least some of the time?

I can remember loving you
I think...
I remember loving you
but I don't remember what loving you feels like.

I sift through a decade trying to recall even a single moment
where I felt loved
unconditionally safe
where I was sure.
But I can only feel empty
the emptiness only something that was once full can feel.

When I think of you I can only feel
sick and desperate and lost
and afraid.
But I think you filled my heart once
I think when we used to sit on the blacktop and look at the stars
I think when the feeling of your hands on me was new
I think maybe I smiled once...

But it was all laced with fear.

Every last moment.

Wednesday, November 21, 2012

No matter how many times I change the question, the answer is the same.

I can't breathe.
But I'm not sure I've ever gotten a full breath in the past nine years.
And I've survived this long.
Maybe breathing isn't as important as I thought.

All I want to do is sleep.
My dreams keep me from staring at the phone.
And the thing that hurts the most,
Is how easy it is for you to leave me alone.

It's been nine years, and you don't know me at all.
Or at least I hope you don't, because I don't like who you make me out
to be.

Friday, June 17, 2011

I hear thunder on the breeze that lightly touches me. Electricity is on the tips of my fingers tonight. Can you feel me reaching through you?

Monday, May 17, 2010

Home

You're here with me in this moment,
But I see nothing in your eyes, 'cept distance.
I shut them out, retreat to darkness,
And nothing changes, we don't want it.

Here we are,
A place called hell.
Two in bed,
But both alone.
Here I am,
My prison cell.
I know it well,
A place called home.

Your hands say more than your expressions,
I hear nothing in your voice, 'cept distance.
I'm all second glances, and you're all silence,
And nothing changes, I don't want it.