On Second Thought

I used to think that blue eyes were beautiful

as everyone does

but I’ve been noticing lately an apathy behind them

whether it’s hidden well or it isn’t.

I used to think, too, it was only a single pair of blue eyes

that bore resemblance to that revile that I loved so much

but I’m getting better at looking past vibrant irises

and into a narcissistic stoicism.

Don’t get me wrong,

I still think that they’re beautiful,

a vivid and dispassionate warning that there is pain ahead,

and now that I’ve come to understand what lies behind them

I love them even more.

Anymore

I remember being at your side when you were breaking

doing everything that I could to keep your heart from aching.

I would have spent every day and every night telling you what you meant to me

making sure that you understood just how amazing I thought that you could be.

But when it came time for my walls to crumble

you left me in the dark to grope and stumble

somehow nowhere in sight, as I fell down into shambles

but still being there to drive the knife in by the handle.

Even now, I would still be there to hold your hand in the dark

when I know I mean nothing to you, and I’m the only one breaking my own heart

so, if you can’t bring yourself to bother with me too

then I don’t want to be the only one that gives a damn about you,

anymore.

Staring At The Stars In Your Eyes

Laying in the dark, for what felt like hours,

as the sky fell around me and the stars littered the ground I laid on

I dared not to move in fear that the pain would find me.

I had eluded it all somehow, but I knew that it was searching for my heart again

so I hid like prey, behind the moon and amongst the clouds

hoping that my light would burn up before torment had a chance to smother it.

I wondered how much longer I could escape, continue to run from the bitter truth

that had been following me already for so long, for years.

The sun had heard my plight as it was told by the moon and the stars

so it offered me refuge, that I might teach it how to love

but by then I was already gone.

 

Don’t Wait For What’s Already Waiting For You

Death comes on a sliding scale,

it is never fair or just,

but only ever slightly surpasses what we’re capable of bearing.

There is large death, and small,

death of the heart, and mind,

but worse yet

the death of a soul.

Death can set us free

or lock us away

but will never deny us the ability to choose.

True death, comes only where it is not welcome

and send imposters and pretenders in its place

where it is called for.

Death comes for all of us at least once

some 100 times before they really die

and whether or not it has the chance to run away with us

will always be a question

until it is done.

An Open Letter To A Closed Addiction

Everything about me

makes me long for you,

and every long day

makes me miss those fleeting moments

we shared together.

Every tear I shed

reminds me

of the ones you wiped from my face

and as the pain gets a little worse

I try not to remember

how you made it better.

Every word I write

is pushing you away

so for now

I’ll be the one thats new

and you can be weathered.