Cry
Hope is kind
but fear can control the mind.
Takeing all you love and have left behind.
Tears hit the already wilting flower.
As we cry, he dose not know.
He does not feel.
At the same time, he feels the greatest pain.
Not knowing how to cry.
His eyes are dry because he will never feel.
They don't know why
but they try to make him feel
so he will know why they cry.
The bottle
He takes the bottle in his hand,
he thinks it makes his a better man.
It hurts me to see this.
The change is not better.
A new man but not a better one.
this One frightens me with insanity.
Insanity makes a man do things you can't fully understand.
He is numb to everything you say
because he has never felt that way.
How can he understand your pain.
I wish I had meant it
when I said I didn't love him.
Water
If tears are just water,
then why do they feel like so much more?
Why does the body respond to pain and loss
With water? What purpose does that sever?
I understand that everything the body does without being told is to fulfill a fundamental need for the body.
Such as the heart beating or the lungs breathing.
So water, coming out of the eyes when one is hurting,
must be filing a fundamental need somehow.
Kiss
Blood pumps, though me like a forgotten fosite.
Water flowing out like waterfalls submerging the floor in a vast ocean.
His heart, like a tribal drum.
Mine echoing his.
Like a fantasy, he pols my face to his.
In a moment, all of my defenses were penitrated.
Each tuch is recorded and locked in the arrives of my mind. To be analyzed to the core.
Forget
I don't want to let you go,
but I would love to forget you.
I don't want to see you, no.
But I would love to forget to.
I can't find the courage.
I tried to replace you,
but I don't think I want to.
My scares shape me
on my face, there are scars
that can not be erased.
each one holds a memory.
Some I would love to forget.
They unlock where I've been.
The once vivid line holds a peace of who I am.
Who I was and who I plan to be.
My scars shape me.
Thought
I am not a person who finds any joy in the misfortune of others but "don't mistake my kindness for weakness." Am unsure who said that first. I believe that when things are siad that ring ture they find their way into others thoughts. I appreciate whoever put that idea into the world. Sometimes, I hate the company of my own mind. Another saying that I am unsure of the organ would be you are your harshest critic.
