Deep Inside Dwells Ugly

I remember writing,
"Ugly doesn't exist."

I remembered and realized
the moment I learned
how hard it had been
to shake the feeling
of obtaining a frightening relationship.

That I was wrong,
and ugly exists
in ways other than facets,
only to realize later
that the damage
had already been done.

Until I Realize, I Don't Need Another Friend Standing in the Shadows.

I was all an act.

You hand me the magic pill,
I pop it down, and it's gone.
I remember pulling tricks
with my wit.
You thought it went down the hatch,
but it never left my hand

You supplied, I took,
but never swallowed.

I was a lie,
my real motive
was to steal as much
as I possibly could,
so you wouldn't kill yourself.

If it took an act,
or a lie, who cares?

I had my own agenda,
and still, it backfired on me.

I was never suicidal,
that was all an act,
still, the self harm was real.

Despite the evidence,
I was just depressed,
desperate to save you.

Still,
at the cost of my lies,
somehow,
we both took the bullet
in the end.

It only went through
me to get to you.

Inebriation Robs You of Your Intellect.

I'm worried about good times
and how there aren't enough to spare.

I've been thinking about good times,
and how every one from the past
has a burden to bring with it.

I'm worried about the unworthy,
the wicked,
and the silhouette of the sinister
masking itself as a good time.

That bottle you bring
only sells your time short,
and removes any memory
of a good time from your system.

Wake Up, the Dream is Over, Move On.

Sometimes,
I beat my brains out
thinking of you.
I want to say
I miss you dearly,
but I don't.

I'd love to believe
any semblance of friendship
we once had was real,

but surely I'd be kidding
myself if I did.

I was only a drifter
floating around in a pond
full of meaningless fish.

We all do it,
and believe it's meaningful
but when you
watched me walk away;

If I ever meant a thing
to you at all
surely you would've stopped me.

Times like these put me to sleep.

Congratulations!

I, alone,
am powerless,
still somehow I live my life.

I forgot
how close we were,
a friendship from years ago.

I, myself,
am one project
that will never be complete.

I thought of
you, as selfless
as a fighting friend can be.

You deserve
all the fortune
that balances in your life.

Later in life, she's in the same position you once were.

Even though you're gone,
still you show yourself in colors.

The sister you had still exists,
and I'm convinced you gave her
the life you left behind.

I saw you in her purple hammock,
your brother was much younger,
but somehow he died before her,
his heart was diseased,
yet his mind was at ease.

Now she's nearly 90,
deaf, and daring
she shows herself in colors
and when she's gone,
it's those colors that will keep her alive.

I'll keep my past if I want, afterall it got me where I am today.

I looked at myself for once
as the child I use to be
and realized that sometimes

this isn't about being right or wrong,
or singing a martyrs song.

Some people don't want to be saved,
some people prefer to salvage themselves,
and you say it's hopeless, right?

So give me something to dream about,
tell me something more than;
life goes on, and we move on.

We're constantly in motion,
but why can't then and now
still be connected?

Stop telling me,
that I have a whole new life
because if it wasn't for me
falling so deep in the first place,
I would have never had the
chance to save myself.

You know they'll come and go, but memories, they last a lifetime.

With bravery and desperation,
growth got me through,

even though instability lead the way
and all the suffering that came along
has left with out a trace.

Friends found along the way
are memories of yesterday.

By the looks of me
you'd never know
what I've been into,

or the sounds
that sent me there.

So in a single breath
I breathe it out, steam,
in the cold winter air.

Sometimes it's that easy
to put the past behind you.

Schizophrenia makes you strong, not stupid.

Don't try to convince me
that I was a frightful friend
for not reaching out to you over the years.

Where were you when I went
into the hospital, and in again?
You weren't around for nearly
a decade of my head coming unhinged,

and you sigh because I
have bigger foes to fight
than friends who claim to be.
Still every time you asked of me,

I gave.

Then when it came to being a friend,
you choose to act as if
because of my mental clutter
I was somehow less human than you.

I'm not a doll you use for amusement,
and I've cut any puppet strings
that make it so.

Stay in that small town, see where it leads you.

It's a differential knowing
that everything you've earned
caves in at the word of someone else.
friendships, lives, reputations.

I wish clearly you could see why
your words sparked my disappointment
when you created the definition
of theft by word.

So you say you don't see me anymore,
I'm just a speck of dust
statically clinging to your shoe,
and still, even though I'm that small,
somehow I still get inside your head.