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I'm an open book here, and I have a lot to say, so I'll just say it.

Wednesday, December 31, 2014

You're Not Controlling Me Anymore

For a long time
I locked my ideas
away somewhere
I thought was safe,

simply stowed away
somewhere in my brain,
but only slightly jotted down
to refresh the memory
so that in no way could
you ever find the meaning
in just one line.

I'd leave you existing to search,
and let you struggle
before I ever let you invade my mind
or steal any ideas of it's creation.

No, these words are not
for the common reader,
but for the theft committed
against any common writer.

You need to know that
I'd self destruct before I ever
allowed you tear your way
into that part of my life ever again.

Tuesday, December 30, 2014

I'm Sorry to Say

The name is affection
and it's not entirely proud
of caring for everyone it does

but nonetheless, know
that you're in it's heart
and you'll be there always.

It's a place it'll forever
hold on to the memory
of the friendships forgotten.

Each of your faces are
so deeply engrained into
it's memory that they use to
haunt it's ghost town of a mind,

but that empty town's
been filled without you.

Thursday, December 18, 2014

I'm a Could've Been.

When you say you understand,
do you?

Do you truly understand how it feels
to be completely trapped inside yourself?

Can you even begin to comprehend
how high my hopes get
about things I know
I'll never even achieve?

Then,
there I go,
once again
tripping,
I crash face first
into the hardest
concrete of my life.

I don't have much to offer,
I've got nothing to offer the real world,
whatever that is.

I know, I offered you myself
and at one time that was enough
but now I'm not so sure.

I offer the world my words,
it doesn't have to listen,
it just has to lay them out
for someone to see,
but until then. . .

You Need to do This For Yourself.

When I'm heartbroken
by the things I hear
happening around me,
I see I'm not in a good place,
but continuously tell myself,
I won't give in,

I won't give in. . .

It doesn't matter
what I've seen others do,
or how they've let
the worst conquer them,
and even when it seems nice
to slip away into that dark place
sulking with the covers over my face,

a face that I never wanted anyone to see. . .

I have to remind myself that;
yes,
I do matter,
whether or not I want to believe it,
and yes,
my life does have some sort of meaning,
and even if it isn't meaningful to myself,
it is to someone else.

It's such a lack of self-realization,
but I can't let it crowd my thoughts too long,
because I've got things to do
and people to care for.

I told myself,
No one's going to do this for me.