This Heart

My heart is a little tender

Becuase it’s been touched too many times

My heart is a little stretched

Too many feelings at one time

My heart is a little broken

Just a few cracks going down the middle

From when I thought I was losing you

But my heart is still here

And you can take it,

If you want a tender, stretched, cracked heart.

I really hope you do.

Lies that are needed

The end of a moive

The theater dark

Tears bubbling from my eyes

Falling over my cheeks

Tumbling until they hit the red chairs

You turning to me

Eyes wide

Confused

We weren’t watching a sad movie,

Were we?

No, no

Something else, I murmur, the movie was nice

What, you ask, what’s wrong

I lie

I use another one of my problems to calm your worries

A small problem

You probably think I’m stupid,

You’ve been through so much worse.

But the real reason I’m crying,

Is something I could never tell you.

It’s the fact

That you will go home

to where you live,

So far away

And you will have a friend

Who will get to love you as much as I

And you will make her feel whole

Make her feel wanted.

And I will be here,

Holding onto to the happy memories you gave me.

While you still could.

With Enough Tape

Everyone has told me

So many times

That I will be able to get over love

That with enough tape

I will be able to clean up this broken heart.

But I think it’s the opposite

I think with enough tape

You can pretend to be normal

With enough tape

You can paint over the holes in the wall

With enough tape

Someone else can love you

But loving them back is impossible

Because you always have cracks where the loves leaks out

And disappears

I gave you

I gave you my affection

And you let the flames of my love reflect in those wonderful deep eyes.

I gave you my heart

And you made a little origami crane with it,

letting it fly away into the dangerous waters of passion

it would’ve been lovely, except you watched it sink and now I feel nothing but pain.

I gave you my promise

And you gave me yours,

expect my promises mean everything and yours

yours mean nothing.

I gave you my belief

And you returned it with doubt,

You let my belief die with my heart.

And I’ve finally got it through my head,

I finally understand that,

You’ll never return anything that I,

Give,

Sacrifice,

And spare.

Because I gave you my soul

And you gave me an empty house with a thick layer of dust.

Mental Noise~

My mind screamed at its self.

Why was I being such a drama queen?

No one cared.

No one wanted to hear me ramble about how hard I had.

Why couldn’t I get that through my thick head?

Why couldn’t  I understand the fact that no one is here to listen?

‘No one cares. Be quiet.’ My brain told me, ‘Keep your head down. Write it on paper. The paper will listen.’

I fight the urge to yell at people. For one reason I want someone to hear.

And there is someone. But he seems far away. Distant.

For some reason I didn’t feel as close as I used too.

But now, now things are different.

I don’t tell people what they don’t care about hearing.

I know where to find him when I need to talk.

I know how to control the mental noise.

Man’s Red Flower

Man’s Red Flower, inspired by Rudyard Kipling:

Man’s Red Flower,

Fills you with power.

Man’s Red Fire,

Fills you with desire.

Man’s Red Weapon,

Beautiful, deadly, thrust upon,

Those who protect themselves,

And those who are greedy.

While the red flower is captivating,

It is fatal.

Luring it’s victims with it’s flame

Then using that same flame to burn everything in it’s path.

~Winter Woods

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