The Lost

From the shadows,
comes the love.
The love of loss,
the love of fear.
Trembles, whispers, quiet torture.
Keys of secrets,
and disorder.
Founded in the place of lies,
a tale and lesson of lost cries.

My newest poem. It has an under-lying meaning.

The Future

In my future, I am in love with you and you are in love with me. In my future things are perfect. Life... is peaceful in my future, filled with bright and vivid colours. Your love seems like enough to hold me there. And then I wake. I wake from my silent and precious dream. Quickly, I realize there was an end to this wild dream before it even started. Our time has passed, our love has been shattered and shared. The end, was the end and it came before my future had a chance to live.

Love After Love

"The time will come when, with elation, you will greet yourself arriving at your own door, in your own mirror, and each will smile at the other's welcome, and say, sit here. Eat. You will love again the stranger who was your self. Give wine. Give bread. Give back your heart to itself, to the stranger who has loved you all your life, whom you ignored for another, who knows you by heart. Take down the love letters from the bookshelf, the photographs, the desperate notes, peel your own image from the mirror. Sit. Feast on your life." -Derek Walcott

Someday, I will write something as emotionally convincing as this poem. I want to inspire people with my writing. I want people to fall in love with my words. To laugh at them, to smile with them, to cry with them. I want people to feel emotion radiating from my writing. I want people to feel the things that I feel when I write. And also, to feel the things I feel when I read from my favorite authors. Writing is my only outlet to express myself.

No Changes

Nothing is ever going to change. And there goes our love, melting away. I'm ready to melt away with it. I am losing hope.

"Hey, maybe dye my hair, maybe I'll move somewhere. Maybe I'll get a car, maybe I'll drive so far, they'll all lose track. Me, I'll bounce right back. Maybe I'll sleep real late, maybe I'll lose some weight. Maybe I'll clear my junk, maybe I'll just get drunk on apple wine. Me, I'll be just fine and dandy. Lord, it's like a hard candy Christmas. I'm barely getting through tomorrow, but still I won't let sorrow bring me way down."

Have I Told You Lately that I Love You...?

I hope you know that I love you. Well, I'd feel lost if you were not here. I hope you know how much you mean to me. I see how happy you are, and honestly that makes me happy. I would give anything to see you completely happy. You are my world, you always have been. I never want to lose you, but sometimes there are no solutions to problems. I have hope for us. I need you, and that need grows more over-whelming everyday. Everyday I feel pain for the fear that I have of losing us. And everyday it get's worse, almost like an anxiety. I need you to know I love you... I love you so so so much. I hope this shows you something, I feel like writing is the only way I can express my feelings fully to you. I need you and love you. I want to prove that to you, and I wish I could.

The Beginning of the End

I'm writing a book, and I'm really excited about it. So far, I think it is entertaining. I feel like I need to take a few more writing classes though. I do not know why I am such a depressed individual, but it really shows in my writing. I am constantly thinking of things I should not think about and my mind is a dark, dark place. I am a very upbeat and happy person on the outside, but on the inside I feel torn up and frustrated. It's getting worse everyday.

You & I Collide

I need you, now more than ever. My life feels off track and unbalanced without your presence. You're in my every thought. At first it wasn't difficult, it was a sort of numbing feeling. But now I feel it. I need you. Please.

Dreaming & Painting

No matter how hard I try, I can't shake the dream I have every night. Although the setting is different every night, the context, for the most part, is the same. The people, the feelings, the regret... it is the same every night. Last night was so bad that I woke up at 5:00 and could not go back to sleep. My mind is uneasy, I have very strange unconscious desires. Although there are many things I miss from my past, I want to keep moving forward. I made certain choices that have brought me here. My dreams are way too vivid and that's why these emotions are getting out of control. I want to paint. Painting always makes me feel better, it puts my mind at ease. I am not by any means good at paiting, but I really enjot it. The best feeling in the world to me is laying a blanket out under the cold winter sun, turn on some Coldplay, coffee or wine, a cigarette, and a blank white sheet in front of me. In fact I think that's exactly the cure I need today. I want to feel, I want the wounds gone, I want to paint.


One of my old poems, see the passion has always been there.
Written August 8, 2008:

So paint a picture of a potential love.
Ember skies and future fields of flowers.
A girl who knows a boy,
and a boy who wonders how well he knows himself.
The envious trees and the speak no- nothing stream.
Curious grass and an orange glow.
He fascinates her, she will remain a mystery to him.
The paint will rub on with joy and eagerness.
The truth is the paint is her hope for just one more day.
She will teach him new things if he let's his stubborn heart float away.
The boy from the painting has dark unsure eyes
and will not let go of his past.
All of his emotions are painted with a shakey nervous hand.
Carefree, humorous, and giggly...
the girl from the painting will show him that his spirit remains alive.
She loves him, even though he chooses to leave her as she is.
He knows why he can not, or rather will not be with her.
His heart will remain hurt, he could fall in love with her.
The painter finishes, and lays her work out to dry in the cold winter sun.
He spoke words that meant everything and nothing to her at the same time.
"And if I told her that I loved you, the memory of us would fade."

Fire and Ice

"Time is a monster that cannot be reasoned with. It responds like a snail to our impatience, then it races like a gazelle when you can't catch a breath." -Joe Wenteworth

Time... so little of it, every precious moment slipping away. And to be honest, I feel like I am slipping away with it. I am stuck at the bottom of a massive hill, trying to find my way to the top. I feel lost, after losing certain people... it is really taking a toll on me. Life can not be wasted on minor disagreements or trivial things. Life is the most precious thing in the world, and the majority of humanity takes it for granted. I hate when people leave my life. Death is the worst case of all, however, somebody willingly walking out of your life stings almost as bad. Losing someone you love, in anyway, leaves a raw wound in your chest. Everytime you are reminded of that person, it's like pouring salt on it. The burn always worsens. And then you are reminded of time... each second passing... never returning. Every person that you have ever lost, moves further away.

"Some say the world will end in fire, some say in ice. From what I've tasted of desire, I hold with those who favor fire. But if it had to perish twice, I think I know enough of hate to say that for destruction ice is also great, and would suffice." -Robert Frost

The Lovely Bones

I just started re-reading one of my favorite books, "The Lovely Bones". It is probably one of the most heart-breaking and beautiful books I have ever read... I am going to insert one of my favorite passages from it. I encourage everyone to read it.

"Hours before I died, my mother hung on the refrigerator a picture that Buckley had drawn. In the drawing a thick blue line seperated the air and ground. In the days that followed I watched my family walk back and forth past the drawing and I became convinced that that thick blue line was a real place- an Inbetween, where heaven's horizon met Earth's. I wanted to go there into the cornflower blue of Crayola, the royal, the turquoise, the sky."
-The Lovely Bones, Alice Sebold