I wish that I could take it all back
rewind time, erase what I've done.
Not shed those tears,
Not have said yes,
Not have chosen that place,
Not have been born.
What are second chances? Reminders of mistakes past.
Something pulling at all the peices of my heart,
urging me to do something,
make up for all the suffering I caused them
with pain and worry of my own?
No.
I want to go back in time to summer,
when there was love and friendships that would last forever,
when there would always be "later" to go to bed,
when three AM was the perfect time to talk on the phone.
I want to erase what I did to ruin it all.
I want to fix it all.
I want for everything to be so perfect and simple
like it was then.
I want it all back,
name your price....
But I'd settle for a second chance.
Friday, February 27, 2009
Saturday, February 14, 2009
Deception or Perception? Written -- February 14th TwoThousandNine
Deception or Perception?
No one is like this, What tricks do you play?
You see my stares, make of them what you may,
I have been deceived, or so it would seem,
Into thinking that you saw it in me.
That flame of who I really am, that so
Often is concealed. That flame wants to go
To see Who it is that makes my soul shine.
Although only in my mind you are mine.
Around you, the dead in me comes to life.
Your smile makes me forget all my strife.
Maybe my imagination is wild,
Maybe your true deception is mild.
Your infectious happiness calms me,
Your wise eyes more fathomless than the sea.
No matter what you see in me I know
That you're something different than what you show.
I guess it's perception that makes me see
Dark sweetness in you, and what we could be.
No one is like this, What tricks do you play?
You see my stares, make of them what you may,
I have been deceived, or so it would seem,
Into thinking that you saw it in me.
That flame of who I really am, that so
Often is concealed. That flame wants to go
To see Who it is that makes my soul shine.
Although only in my mind you are mine.
Around you, the dead in me comes to life.
Your smile makes me forget all my strife.
Maybe my imagination is wild,
Maybe your true deception is mild.
Your infectious happiness calms me,
Your wise eyes more fathomless than the sea.
No matter what you see in me I know
That you're something different than what you show.
I guess it's perception that makes me see
Dark sweetness in you, and what we could be.
Friday, February 13, 2009
Picture Show -- Written February 3, 2009
Emotions strewn about the floor
in messy heaps.
Memories squeeze inside them,
emotional photographs to keep.
Picture shows play themselves,
movies in the mind.
The old days play on the screen
back when everything was gentle and kind.
It really hasn't been so long
The memories are fresh.
But just as old as the memories
is when they were seen in the flesh.
Nostalgia is a sneaky thing
and when the memories are played
is sets in and despite best efforts
it almost always stays.
The beauty in the memory
is heartbreaking at least,
More stunning than the
ascending sun in the East.
And just as a sunrise
the memories are gone.
After all, you know we
can't live in the past for long.
in messy heaps.
Memories squeeze inside them,
emotional photographs to keep.
Picture shows play themselves,
movies in the mind.
The old days play on the screen
back when everything was gentle and kind.
It really hasn't been so long
The memories are fresh.
But just as old as the memories
is when they were seen in the flesh.
Nostalgia is a sneaky thing
and when the memories are played
is sets in and despite best efforts
it almost always stays.
The beauty in the memory
is heartbreaking at least,
More stunning than the
ascending sun in the East.
And just as a sunrise
the memories are gone.
After all, you know we
can't live in the past for long.
To Hell -- Written January 28, 2009
To hell with the superficial,
And all that's not real,
What's the point of living
if we can't act how we feel?
To hell with forced smiles,
On painted faces,
When our minds just want to escape,
To much saner places.
To hell with social grace,
I'm waiting for the Neanderthal revert.
No one can really complain,
Because there's no human left Unhurt.
And all that's not real,
What's the point of living
if we can't act how we feel?
To hell with forced smiles,
On painted faces,
When our minds just want to escape,
To much saner places.
To hell with social grace,
I'm waiting for the Neanderthal revert.
No one can really complain,
Because there's no human left Unhurt.
I guess.... Written January 28, 2009
There's something that makes us hold onto things that are better off let go.
Sometimes in a moment of weakness you realize the strength of those closest to you,
and in those same moments you realize who those closest to you really are.
When you're on top of the world, everyone wants to know what's the matter.
When you're on the verge of self-destruction, suddenly everyone is just as self important as you are.
And when you have finally gone and broken yourself, those you expect to help put you back together have
abandoned
you, and those you considered minor players in your life put you back
together.
And in that moment everything will change.
And everything you thought was whole will become broken,
and the
brokenness
will only make you grow.
Sometimes in a moment of weakness you realize the strength of those closest to you,
and in those same moments you realize who those closest to you really are.
When you're on top of the world, everyone wants to know what's the matter.
When you're on the verge of self-destruction, suddenly everyone is just as self important as you are.
And when you have finally gone and broken yourself, those you expect to help put you back together have
abandoned
you, and those you considered minor players in your life put you back
together.
And in that moment everything will change.
And everything you thought was whole will become broken,
and the
brokenness
will only make you grow.
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