Kim Jones

I feel the burden of knowledge
The burden of love and dying hope
I feel the sorrow which I have clung to like a drug;
You know it's bad, but you're addicted,
...

I know where I have been
I know the sorrow people look at coldly and clinically
I know that no one but those who have been there understand it
It is a place
...

The stormy sea parts it's thunderous waves
as the sun breaks through the clouds
and forces warmth into the cold depths
where nothing lives but that which survives all else.
...

The heart beats wildly nevermore,
The song to be sung waits nevermore,
You, my friend, stab me in the back nevermore,
It's too late to fix what you have done,
...

To look at his face
Is to look at the sky
It fills me with wonder
And makes me want to fly.
...

In the cold of the night the pond freezes over
it turns into ice of the deadliest kind,
it looks deceptively strong,
when in reality it is quite thin;
...

On the brink of the abyss
with a blindfold tied tight
should I step into the mist
or retreat back to the light?
...

I'm sick of these clouds
That are always over my head,
I can't fight them,
For I know they are right.
...

The blank page is telling,
Taddle-telling to be more precise
The quivering pen strains to come up with emotion,
My strongest emotion in that I work with
...

I gave my all and I've burned out
Just like a star with a reason to fall
My heart is safe and my guard is up
You try to reach me but my ocean tide sweeps you away.
...

Cold and broken,
From the social horror that could cause a very saint to sin,
And run away,
It's curious how life never waits,
...

Waking up from this dream,
This delusional care,
Stemming from regret and denial,
Of the goodbye that could never exist,
...

I see him every day,
But does he see me?
I hear every word he says,
But does he hear any of my own?
...

You ignore me as I walk past,
Everything slows down,
I turn back to stare at you
while I have the chance,
...

If only you could see
Just how hard it is for me
to be nonchalant around you
than maybe I could move on.
...

In the silent, gray world
when the gutters begin to cry
the plants begin to curl
and the flowers begin to die.
...

Life is like a tumbling stream,
you never know where the bumps will be
but you always know it is for the best.
...

I'm a closed book
hidden away in the depth of my eyes
only because of the light that they took
away from my skies.
...

I fear my trust
Whether it be trust in others
or others trusting me
For I am not to trust
...

A deep and foreboding hurt
lingers,
fighting and forcing
its way down, hoping
...