The Walls of Repetition

Sometimes you make me feel like an idiot.

Like my clumsy at times absent-mindedness is such an inconvenience.

Mostly I just shut up because you're right;

Though you don't say it, I can hear it in the tone of your voice,

In when you slam things around like you're frantically trying to take it out on the world;

I'm stupid, and frustrating and contrary to what I like people to believe 

HAVE NO IDEA WHAT I AM DOING.

Then you smile and expect me to smile back up at you from where you knocked me down.

And maybe its not on purpose;

Maybe I don't know what I am talking about.

But this hot and cold isn't running so smooth over my skin any more.
I've grown tired of the blisters and terrified of the chill;
The acid of your good intentions peals it all away until I am left with nothing;
Nothing but these scars and some good memories,
And it seems I do nothing but defend these scars.
And you're good and sweet and I'm so messed up.
At the pit of who I am I can hear these walls screaming at me,
Whispering to me, telling me lies parading as truths;
It doesn't matter how dressed up they are, these walls and their melting corners
Are just exactly what I know,
Where I have been a thousand times before.
And really you don't mean to.
But by all means build your height on pieces of me as I fight to keep dignity in tact,
Simply because I feel trapped inside the same ancient room 

Sea of Emotional Distress

All around I see people drowning; or atleast I think I do. It feels as though they are reaching and pulling at me; begging for me to save them. Or it feels as though they are retreating further into themselves until I can no longer see them clearly. The feeling that something isn't right is so profoundly embedded in my physical being that movement and stillness are equally as painful. Everyone is upset and I want so badly to fix whatever is wrong that I am overwhelmed. But nothing is wrong. No one is pulling at me or running from me; instead I am flailing about with ridiculous conviction. The ones around me simply watch because they are unaware of the water filling my lungs. All that is seen is what I have projected and perhaps they begin to wonder if im crazy or if my mind is so full darkness that I can't be helped. But do they feel the pain I've given them; the pain I can not own for fear I may never reach shore. I am drowning and retreating. I am at this moment not entirely okay but I can't judge the wave of undesired emotions I can only simply let them come.

Waking Thoughts

Last night in my dreams I saw you
For the first time in a long time.
And the words you said still ring in my ears,
They echo harshly through my head
"Stop thinking its you,"
A painful stinging in my heart
And irrational feeling all throughout me;
It isn't real but I'm still hit by
"It has never been you".

All I Need

I am in love with the way you catch me off guard,

The smile behind your eyes and the warmth in your laughter.

I am in love with the night time,
When maybe I get to see you, or talk to you,
Or even just think about you uninterruptedly
I'm in love with the way you listen to me,
And not only that,
The way that you seem interested in whatever I have to say..
Even if its super lame...
I love how your hair falls elegant but effortless.
I am in love with the sleepy look in your eyes,
When its time to say goodbye,
Even though neither of us really wants to.
And I love that I can't stop thinking about you,
When sometimes the thoughts whirl around,
Because you are my catalyst but also my restraint.;
And I can't get enough. 

Once Upon a You

You is such a loaded term

In arguments it is usually a way of passing blame,

Well you... it starts, in an uproar of accusations,  

A tornado in paradise tearing through with disregard;

Slanted fingers pointed every which way, 

Always distancing the self from hurt or the responsibility of others pain;

But it starts with I feel, in a quiet hushed tone,

And the only thing important is that connection longed for by arguing in the first place.

In writing it allows the author to be open but not truly vulnerable,

To be precise but not entirely personal.

Cloaked in mystery, You are my light and my shelter;

Beaconing all to feel immersed in the very heart the words belong to.

However you in its simple written form, strung together with meaning and hidden desire

Is a platform for human connection, 

A stage on which others can stand and see exactly what they need to see,

Or feel what they long to feel and 'you' flows freely and interchangeably.