damn guess when you neglect something for so long it automatically makes you either insane or it comes out one way or another, constantly thinking of something new, something fresh. like trying to put a name to a different kind of feeling an new meaning to another emotion that you contanstantly feel but never addressed. finding it instantaneously effortless to push under the rug, like hiding a secret you never plan to tell, not even a soul. your imaginary friend couldn't even handle the truth....you figure you hate being alone....wait im tripping im supposed to be posting what i just wrote...
wondering why you cant see how i feel
i wish emotions didn't need a manuel.
didnt have blinders stuck on one track..
minded...
love is like sign language, every feeling
means something else. confusing to you
confusing for me. not sure why i cant tell you i love,
not sure why i cant tell you how much you mean to me.
every night you listen to my fears
laughing at my corny jokes,
making sure that the pain that the other dudes caused is gone.
the emotionless night has brought a smile on my face.
never looked at me and only saw a chest,
wishing that i could undress
my mind and let you into my world,
my intellectual realm that doesn't invite intruders,
for those who don't respect the heart,
my heart as a person,
a person feeling everything, every emotion,
with every beat every passion
seeing life threw my painful eyes,
comforting me with your vernacular,
i live vicariously through you,
wishing i had the courage to trust the way you do,
love the way you do, and feel the way you do
one day i will be able to tell you i love you
but until that moment, i will continue
to wish that i could be there for you
as you are there for me.
to comfort me, to hold me to love me
for everything that you see, for everything
that is me.
respect my mind, respect my heart
treating my love like baby teeth growing in
slipping rum on my gums to ease the pain.
numbing my fingers to the touch. taking away
the rush, the rush that i feel when i come across
your name, engraved in my heart, forever
never shall we part, because you are the good
in my heart, the part that pushes me,
pushes me to love, learn, go out and smile
experience life again. and for a fact i know
that no matter which way the wind blows
you will always be in my soul.
ViNTAGE T
well yeah...i don't know myself.
Wednesday, May 23, 2007
friends, there when you need 'em
well im talkin to a friend telling em about my drama, blah blah blah, and of course i have the urge to write something else. so here it is.
when your heart gets use to being broken,
and your ears get use to the lies
what can you do to change the fact that
happiness will never be around the corner
you turn. never to be waiting at your front steps
like a package in the mail
denied by all things that are good,
the things worth living and fighting for.
when your mind gets use to the games your broken heart plays.
making you look worthless
uncapable of loving, living and laughing.
when its stripped from you. what can you do,
where can you turn, who can you trust
for experience has taught you to trust no one, let your guard
down to no one. keep your head held and ignore everyone.
some say your snobbish, but you don't have time to care,
thinking of the next one who dares
dares to test your trust, dares to test your promise to yourself.
wondering if its the moment you can be yourself, let loose
like a turtle out of its shell, when can you say its over, the
wall around your heart can come down. and when you open
your heart like a unhealed flesh wound, throwing salt on your soul drying it
up like a dehydrated soul. a seed without sunlight or water.
you realize that once again you were wrong, fueled by a fantasy
a desire of what you really want. wishing that the anger and
tension built inside could make you change.
ignite the untouched wick that will burn and send off
scents that will attract something else. something unknown.
vintage T
and of course i cant finish. feeling like i fell of track a little bit at the end but oh well
when your heart gets use to being broken,
and your ears get use to the lies
what can you do to change the fact that
happiness will never be around the corner
you turn. never to be waiting at your front steps
like a package in the mail
denied by all things that are good,
the things worth living and fighting for.
when your mind gets use to the games your broken heart plays.
making you look worthless
uncapable of loving, living and laughing.
when its stripped from you. what can you do,
where can you turn, who can you trust
for experience has taught you to trust no one, let your guard
down to no one. keep your head held and ignore everyone.
some say your snobbish, but you don't have time to care,
thinking of the next one who dares
dares to test your trust, dares to test your promise to yourself.
wondering if its the moment you can be yourself, let loose
like a turtle out of its shell, when can you say its over, the
wall around your heart can come down. and when you open
your heart like a unhealed flesh wound, throwing salt on your soul drying it
up like a dehydrated soul. a seed without sunlight or water.
you realize that once again you were wrong, fueled by a fantasy
a desire of what you really want. wishing that the anger and
tension built inside could make you change.
ignite the untouched wick that will burn and send off
scents that will attract something else. something unknown.
vintage T
and of course i cant finish. feeling like i fell of track a little bit at the end but oh well
another one.
throwback picture to when i was still in hs. (sophmore year to be exact lol)feeling like i need to get back to my old self. but here's what i wrote.
depression is an issue i never faced
like the monsters under my bed
pretending that everything is okay
sleeping with the lights on
sitting in the corner in the dark
the lights underneath the door
made it hard for me to drift to sleep
stuck in the room, my fears got the best
of me, bottled up my emotions
i wouldn't let you see
the corner of the room got smaller and darker by the
second. facing my fears was like admitting
that i had a problem. and in my eyes i'm never wrong
never had a problem, let a lone i found the answer
to it, in the bottom of the bottle.
happy off that hypo, drunk of the cisco.
you couldn't tell me i was drunk i never knew that
i could feel the funk, running in my veins like lance armstrong
running a marathon. i could never face my self in the mirror
my image was always shattered like a broken mirror giving one
bad luck for the next 7 years to come.
its 2am
So I got some crazy news the night before and well, i didn't take it so well. not as well as i thought i would or should. but to make it worse it really proves my point that no one can be trusted. but out of every bad experience comes something good. which lead me to write this piece
when your heart is broken there is no band aid big enough to sooth the pain
and provide comfort your soul.
there is no napkin that could wipe the tears from your eyes,
nor is there any words that could solve your problem
and make you feel better about being you.
it hurts to smile,
it hurts to listen.
listening to the beat of someone else's heart,
knowing that your heart will never beat as one.
it hurts most when he wont see you off when you drift to sleep,
missing the tiny hairs on ya head,
he wont push the strands be hind your ear
and kiss you gently on your forehead.
it hurts more to listen to the comforting words,
knowing that they aren't meant to ease your pain.
the butterflies in your stomach isn't because of the queezy feeling you get when he
kisses you,
romancing and undressing you with his eyes.
its not because he whisper's sweet nothings to you,
making your spine shiver and your legs quiver to the tone of his voice
and the soft kisses to his touch.
there is no scale big enough to measure the pain he has caused.
there is no clock to tell the time you have spent wishing you were back in his arms.
there is no calculator to sum up the amount of love you have given,
subtracted by the lies, added on by the pain of the past,
divided but the memories and taking the
square root of the emotions you have poured out to him on the phone.
and its not finished but hey..guess i'll finish it one day
when your heart is broken there is no band aid big enough to sooth the pain
and provide comfort your soul.
there is no napkin that could wipe the tears from your eyes,
nor is there any words that could solve your problem
and make you feel better about being you.
it hurts to smile,
it hurts to listen.
listening to the beat of someone else's heart,
knowing that your heart will never beat as one.
it hurts most when he wont see you off when you drift to sleep,
missing the tiny hairs on ya head,
he wont push the strands be hind your ear
and kiss you gently on your forehead.
it hurts more to listen to the comforting words,
knowing that they aren't meant to ease your pain.
the butterflies in your stomach isn't because of the queezy feeling you get when he
kisses you,
romancing and undressing you with his eyes.
its not because he whisper's sweet nothings to you,
making your spine shiver and your legs quiver to the tone of his voice
and the soft kisses to his touch.
there is no scale big enough to measure the pain he has caused.
there is no clock to tell the time you have spent wishing you were back in his arms.
there is no calculator to sum up the amount of love you have given,
subtracted by the lies, added on by the pain of the past,
divided but the memories and taking the
square root of the emotions you have poured out to him on the phone.
and its not finished but hey..guess i'll finish it one day
Friday, May 11, 2007
raw and uncut
this is unedited sooo dont get mad, its still raw!
not only feeling alone, my heart is empty like a carton of milk that was just thrown away. molded, and fueled by lies and love, i turned my back on what i grew to love and understand. living isn't about what's in what's out. lead by distractions and a crowd of people drapped with blind folds on their eyes and their hearts, mutilating everything they belived in, they trade in their faith for fly kicks, their morals for the name brand jeans and their personalities they sell their souls for whats in. the gossip the fairy tales, the story unfolds. spending money on things they cant even pronounce, staying around people that are faker than implants, they use the seeds from what they see on t.v and plant them in their brains, growing roots from their asses, and loosing respect for those who helped water their dirt help them gain sun shine showed them how to deal with hurt. to be a support system, steps on a ladder to get them where they need to be, a dream that will not be deflated, it will not be a dream deferred...too be finished....later ?
not only feeling alone, my heart is empty like a carton of milk that was just thrown away. molded, and fueled by lies and love, i turned my back on what i grew to love and understand. living isn't about what's in what's out. lead by distractions and a crowd of people drapped with blind folds on their eyes and their hearts, mutilating everything they belived in, they trade in their faith for fly kicks, their morals for the name brand jeans and their personalities they sell their souls for whats in. the gossip the fairy tales, the story unfolds. spending money on things they cant even pronounce, staying around people that are faker than implants, they use the seeds from what they see on t.v and plant them in their brains, growing roots from their asses, and loosing respect for those who helped water their dirt help them gain sun shine showed them how to deal with hurt. to be a support system, steps on a ladder to get them where they need to be, a dream that will not be deflated, it will not be a dream deferred...too be finished....later ?
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