Notes rolling off of my fingers The right hand sings a soft melody… The richer undertones of the left… Flowing and melting in swirling ma… The quiet inner voice on the right…
I’ll tell you to hold on tight, and we can be alone together in this nothingness. I’ll tell you to tell me a story, and we can laugh and cry together
i am unsure where you are in this night. it is cold it is dark
He drapes his hand over the mounta… Brushes his fingertips over the fi… His breath dusts the windowpanes w… He cries for Spring, his tears fa… Soft mounds of snow form below him…
I do not know All of the answers. I forget sometimes And I’m not always right. Don’t listen to me,
If I died And no one knew, I don’t know. And I am scared And everything hurts
Something warm has curled up inside my chest. It is filled with hate, with sadness, with things I cannot express.
All I have to say Is I am incomplete A story left unwritten A page left unturned But that does not matter
I stand at the door What am I waiting for? A whisper or a breath To tell me to carry on? Carry on, carry on.
Words are just words They say But if they’re “just words,” Why do they hurt so much more When they tell the truth?
Maybe I resent it because I know that since it meant so much it hurts so much more. And maybe I resent the fact
I fear That now There is no real me. I wear a mask of personality And pretend I’m happy.
As you walk away, Without looking back, I stand here, heart in my hands. I wish you had stayed Or that I’d done something differ…
Whiteboards are erasable. Write down a message Swipe it away with a sleeve Scribble down another message. Swipe it away again.
It is the emptiness, the nothingness, the in-between. Is it broken? Is it maimed?