i wish this was a dream,
that i could wake up and it would be over,
but instead the pinching of my flesh proves this is true,
that i'm alive, i am experiencing this.
...
Ive learned that to love someone doesnt have to involve pain,
Ive learned that to have a friend you must be a friend first,
...
What is it like knowing that I wont be there?
What is it like knowing that I dont care?
...
The Days of old are a wonderful thing,
The days of old are the days of innocence,
...
waiting for another day to pass,
trying to think of words to say,
but all i can think of is how much it will hurt,
when i tell you i can't be your friend.
...
looking up at the falling rain,
everything becomes clearer.
my choices, my emotions,
it all begins to make sense.
...
I can feel the tears pouring down my face
even though my heart denies them.
I try to think of happy thoughts
but i can't find them.
...
Every day is a brand new day,
new adventures, new problems to be solved,
more heart-ache, and pain.
Even with all of the mistakes we make,
...
Have you ever felt,
like you don't belong,
Have you ever felt,
like you don't exisit.
...
I knew them once,
saw them in the hallway.
saw them laugh,
and hug eachother.
...
Me?
Did you say me?
as in I and Me and Mine?
Or you as in you and they and he and she?
...
We once thought our love was lost.
We once believed that we should never see eachother again
The two of us believed that we could not make eachother happy.
But what I never told you was,
...
I am 19 years old. Life is full of unexpected changes. I've learned that to deal with those you must always be true to who you are.)
Crazy Writers
i wish this was a dream,
that i could wake up and it would be over,
but instead the pinching of my flesh proves this is true,
that i'm alive, i am experiencing this.
what is this thing you ask?
i don't feel like saying.
no it's not life or death,
and maybe in a few years time it'll all be over.
but right now it's like a thorn ripping through me.
don't be concerned, don't begin to worry.
it's nothing really, nothing at all.
my imagination is playing tricks on me,
As it usually does.
for is it not mandatory for a writer to become crazy?
alas that is our fate is it not?
but don't call the writer crazy, for the writer spins the truth.
it's the world that has become crazy in all of it's pagan rituals.
don't blame the truth seekers, blame yourselves.
for if your eyes are closed, then why should we not try and open them?
all of this is nonsense,
so don't you worry,
go on with your normal tasks,
take sanctuary in the things around you,
go on deceiving yourself.
but know that someday,
your sins,
will catch up to you.