What you are

What you are
is what you see in yourself.
Who you are
is the change you see within yourself.
The definition of yourself
is what you see in yourself,
is the change you see within yourself;
you are defined
by the choice
of who you choose to be.

Stabbed

I want to set you free.
I want to step away from you.
I want to listen to my inner voice,
telling me how infectious you are.
I can see my heart dying from the pain you are causing me.
You are the villain in a movie,
giving me a blank cold stare,
your hands around the hilt of a knife,
the knife sunk deep into my heart...
There is so much blood, 
the blood you managed to bring out.
This, 
this is not love,
this is fear.
Fear of losing my mind.
Fear that what I saw was not true,
and I guess it wasn't true.
None of it was true.
Fear,
that my dreams are actually nightmares,
that my laughs are actually cries,
my days are nights,
my smiles are tears.
You are something I'm using to convince myself,
that yeah, love is a pain in the neck,
but in the end, it will be worth it.
You are not Love.
I'm the one afraid,
but I can see how scared you are.
You are so scared that running like mad is your only option,
so scared that you trust none.
You better be careful,
before the one you actually might trust,
with stab you from the behind.

Pendulum

The pendulum is swinging.
I hate you.
I hate your voice.
I hate your eyes.
I hate the way you ignore me.
I hate how you have taken over me.
I hate you so much
that I would miss you when you leave,
that I will cry tears of sorrow for you,
that I dream of touching you,
holding you,
that your rejection is worse than Death.
I go to sleep,
thinking of how to forget you,
thinking of how to push you out,
thinking of what I am going to do about you,
thinking of you.
I hate you so bad,
that it makes me love you.

Be Here

I want to sit next to you,
hold your hand.
I want to put an arm around you,
rest my head on your shoulder.
I want to be the one who tells you
that I was there when you forgot everything.
I want to be the one 
who cries when you cry,
who laughs when you laugh,
who sits silently beside you
when you want to be left alone,
as if I am not even there.
But I want to be there.
I am here for you,
even if you aren't here.

Don't

Don't look at me.
Don't smile at me.
Don't touch me.
Don't be there for me.
Don't save me.
Don't be around.
Don't call.
Don't speak.
Don't make me wonder.
Don't leave me sleepless, 
curled up in bed,
staring at the window,
earphones on, 
silence everywhere.
Don't do anything.
Don't make me love you.

Free

Running,

stumbling on roots;

tearing through conflicting branches;

stopping. Gasping. Gazing at green.

Collapsing on the soft grass,

taking in the power;

sun shine burning all around,

the sky painted with yellow and blue.

Peace flowing gently,

like a river, flooding the scene;

even breathing, eyes closed,

a smile playing on the lips.

Nature absorbing its surroundings,

serenity freeing the mind;

first a hair, then a head,

slowly everything, including the smile.

Yards of Nature for miles, 

birds chirping, trees swaying;

the soft grass pressed and bent in one spot,

showing where someone once lay.

Imperfection

Why is it so hard to tell you?
Why is it so hard for you to tell me;
tell me anything.
Tell me to go away,
tell me you hate me,
tell me you never want to see me again,
tell me you don't want me to stay.
tell me you can't,
tell me.
Speak to me.
Torture me with your voice,
kill me with your eyes.
Why the silence?

I know what I want to hear.
I want you to tell me to stay,
I want you to tell me that you live by seeing me everyday,
and that you want to stay too.
I want you to hold me,
I want to hold you.
I want to be the support to you that you support,
I want to be everything you need,
I want you to be everything I live on. 
I want so much...

There is no space,
no place to be, 
nothing.
You are the oxygen, I am the flame,
there will always be an explosion.
There will always be scars,
there will always be flaws,
always someone to blame.
How much ever we wish it away,
you are still the fire, I am still the rain,
there will always be a hope being put out.

There is no perfection,
no medium of communication that means anything,
there is always a disaster, 
there is always tears, 
always a broken heart,
there is nothing left to fight for...

Yet, somehow,
there is still so much said,
there is still a miracle,
there is so much to fight for...
there is still so much more to fight for...