There's nothing wrong about remembering the Dead.
And you don't have to bend, kneel or dread.
Safety used to feel like fixed,
Problems resolved,
Beaming hearts,
Innocent perspectives.
Safety used to feel like man,
Weight lifted,
Body desired,
Lust and codependency.
Safety used to feel like promises,
Expectations expected,
Attachment again,
Connection in small blips.
Safety used to feel like convenience,
Easy access,
Self abandonment,
Distress or over comfortable.
Safety now feels like generate,
Warmth unlimited,
Current generated,
Fluidity Channelled.
Safety now feels like help,
Resources shared,
Ways respected,
Mind open to difference.
Safety now feels like Faith,
Hope driven,
United uniqueness,
Hearing without speaking.
Safety now feels like stay,
Stand together,
Patience imperative,
"We will work this out."
Where ere befell a guiding light
Shining eyes beheld a glory
Holp toward a muted purpose—
A distant feigning glimmer,
Beyond the pale of words.
An aching need to be remade,
A sculptor's hand; a brutal vision
A child; a blank canvas,
A naivety, a submissive nature,
An eagerness to please.
Lead them to a dimming light,
There amidst our dying shadows;
There betwixt the Sun and Night,
Where line the winding gallows.
Where shame forsakes the birth-right
That a darker voice be heard.
And offer up their souls of light
Like the flourishing of birds.
The blinding faith sees not the wraith
Whose night has coiled a cold embrace.
The sun shall nevermore break
Where the twilight, some sayeth,
Precedes its visage upon the lake.
Darkness shall have usurp'd the day
And those who needed believe
Shall have naught to say,
Atop the boroughs as they grieve,
Bearing the known regrets
And we—
The freedom used to deceive,
To let embolden depravity,
To watch the flames spread despair and misery.
The freedom to preach hate and heresy,
To wrongfully endure—
For which we all shall sorely pay.
She waits hand and foot
never letting his food go cold
servant not lover
Hi.
I want to start with 'hi.'
It might seem like a lot of work to get to where I see you, and you see me,
But who's to say we must go with the flow or not skip steps?
I want you to know that I am in this totally,
I am laying it all down to get to know you.
So, hi, I am here.
.
.
.
.
For a couple of years, you were my favourite spot.
But I don't want to get to know the me that knew you.
I'd rather be in denial of that person.
I'm too lazy to get to know a confused stranger.
.
.
.
.
Now, I am reminded of them again
Feelings and memories suppressed
But that familiar throb pulls them back into my consciousness
A decade ago, that place seemed familiar to me
And for all I know now, I was surviving that same place
I wonder how many poems I'll have to write till I fully realized that you will never be mine
How many tears will fall to the ground
Telling myself I'm okay with the reality of the fact you will never see me as more than a friend
How many days will I spend day dreaming about you in my arms till I realize that you are in his
I wonder when you'll realize that all that you do is make me confused
How many hours will I spent wishing you were mine
How many days will it take me to move on
How many months does it take a hopeless romantic to leave their love alone
How many conversations will my friends have to endure for me to say I don't want you anymore
How many times will you kiss my forehead goodbye before I see I'm a toy to you
How many late night texts will it take me to realize that I'm not yours and you're not me
I wonder how long it will take me to move on
I wonder how long it will take you to move on from what we had
Self absorbance is fckn funny
lemme ask you...
"When'd you get so special, hunny?"
THE USED
Everyones so high and mighty...
...i'm just high...
wondering where everyone
got these pedestals from
Hook it up bro----
Can I get one too?
I wanna think I'm better than everyone
just like you
Twisting my mind just
to understand you
probably the dumbest thing
i could possibly do
Unaccept the facts
Wish time would just turn back
Then i wouldnt give a fck bout you
I'd d have my roll dog by my side
he was the ONLY one that was the truth
He didn't wanna be the man,
he just was
First real friend..
actually BROTHER that loved me
Js because
Family from the min we met
Someone I knew I'd never be abe to forget
When I lost him I died a little inside
So thinking you'd actually be down
i feel like a fckng as*hle
hoping that you would still be around
That's the fckng truth
we used to lock them up
people who thought they had gone to heaven
or glimpsed hell
we labelled them
belittled them
made fun of them
the good old days
now we have books written by them
they rise to the best seller list
these authors are revered and honored
they go on book tours
how times have changed
how we have changed
some of us were not ready
still are not
You can’t recall the stone,
Once it’s thrown
Emitted harsh words, can’t be defused
And Time spent, can not be reused.
the ceiling fan spins
a quiet breeze fills the space
where you used to be
the old bones of god
sit on street corners
with their doors unlocked—
not for prayer,
but for the lost electricity
of people trying
to feel something again.
they rent the pews
by the hour now:
yoga mats where knees once bent,
AA circles where confessions
spill easier than psalms,
daycare toys rattling
in the echoes of stained glass.
sometimes a wedding,
two kids promising eternity
under a roof that’s seen
too many broken versions
of forever.
other times it’s silence—
a holy kind—
where only dust believes
in resurrection.
the steeple still watches,
but it doesn’t judge anymore.
it just waits,
the old drunk sentinel,
for someone to stumble in
with a wound
too human for the streets
and too honest
for the bars.
what are churches used for now?
whatever keeps the roof on,
whatever keeps the lights dim,
whatever lets a few souls
sit still long enough
to remember
they’ve got one.
Nothing Hurts the Way It Used To
I've reached a point in life where nothing hurts me
The way it used to.
Things happen, you get hurt,
People leave, hearts break—
But life goes on.
I built a wall around myself using only self-love,
And that's why, when things go wrong, I'm no longer affected.
I love myself enough now to know my worth,
And that means no longer crying over someone who didn't love me
Enough to stay, or fight for me when they should have.
I used to be the kind of person affected by the smallest things,
Even though I'd been through so much in such a short time.
And now, I can't even shed a single tear.
Not because I've become numb,
But because I know no one deserves my tears.
I used to think nothing ever gets better,
And that things can only get worse,
And that some of us are just destined for pain.
But I was wrong.
Things do get better, and that's all I hold close now.
The smallest glimmer of hope and possibility—
The fact that there's always light at the end of the tunnel,
And no matter what anyone says, things get better with time.
Trust me, they do.
Is like saying
“I know my way around every corner, but I’m not allowed to walk through the door”
I lost my first tooth there
And I scraped my knee on the sidewalk out front.
My first cat tommy
Is lying
Bones in the backyard
Grave marked by nothing
But those old dead flowers
I used to live here.
absence makes the heart grow fonder.
This place used to be ours
And if you look
You may be able to find my name
Written on the door frame
Next to a height and age
And the nail sticking out of one of the stairs
That I stepped on
And I fell
And momma put a Band-Aid on the wound in this bathroom
And momma put ice on my head in this bedroom
And kissed me good night under this rattling ceiling fan
and I slept in this old place,
under this cracked ceiling
making faces out of the paint chips
making stories out of the sounds
the fridge
the air conditioner
the cars out front.
I used to live here.
It's my childhood home
But now someone new lives here
I secretly think,
It will always be ours more than anyone else's.
This is the best description that I could give myself
I'm always that person who sticks my neck out to help
I would listen to the problems of someone that I love
I would try to solve the problem if talking wasn't enough
Im not anyone's friend I'm more of an outlet
I never seem to recognize this from the outset
I've never appeared like the person in need
They never take the time to ask and to see
There are times when I sit back and question my value
Wondering if I'm a friend or someone being used
I often wonder what causes a person to choose me
In comparison to others what would my value be
If they see me as they see everyone else
A dusty book alone on a cluttered shelf
Or do they value my friendship like its gold
Instead of someone they can come to drop their load
Being an electric outlet doesn't seem fair
I appear disposable because I'm always there
You think people think twice once they unplug from the socket
Not when they have a charged battery in their pocket
Battery full if charge and life
Why are people so full of strife
Why are some people born with full bars
While others are still looking for a charge
Battery used and broken
Why can there just be a potion
One to fill a battery who's lost and lonely
One who is tired and ghostly
One to end it all
and bring peace to those it calls
Those running on empty
And gives them their happy ending
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