Me, Myself & I

There is no one left, but myself.
No shoulder to cry on, no one to hear me weep.
But I guess I knew somewhere deep in my heart,
that this is how it would always be.
My own best friend, my own worst enemy.

Untitled

The date is November 28,1984 and the time is 10 p.m.
I see a figure wandering in the distant fog,
and I wonder if it is you.
I call out your name,
but all I can hear is the echo of my own voice.
It is misty outside,
and I can feel the moisture trickle down my neck.
I begin to move closer to the figure,
but with each step, I drift further and further away.
The fog begins to let up,
and I can now see a person staggering and wounded.
I approach with caution and I reach out my hand.
As I do, the person withdraws into the shadows.
I follow mindlessly.
The person leads me deep into the darkness.
The only visible thing was the trail of blood.
Everything had become total darkness.
Even myself.
For hours and house, I followed this person until daylight
brought me upon a cemetery.
I trailed the last few drops of blood that led me to a grave.
When I saw the name on the grave, my heart stopped beating.
Engraved in the tomb was my name and underneath it read:
died from a broken heart on November 28, 1984 at 10:15 p.m.

Taking Over Me

I'm not sure anymore. My mind and my heart are pulling me in two different directions. My mind tells me that I love him, but my heart tells me that maybe I'm not really in this for love. Or is it the other way around? Trapped in my own sea of emotions and the tide is stronger than me. My emotions are taking over me.

First Love

Some days I miss you. And it hurts thinking about everything we had. It's shame that we ended up this way, but that's all in our past. To see you thinking about another girl, to see you walking with another girl, makes me a little mad at first but then I just smile because I will always be your first love. The girl that changed your life, the girl that made you right. The girl who never left your side. Boy you're my heart, you could be with her for life, But that don't change nothing because you'll never forget your first love. Sometimes I just think about you, even when I'm with him, dreaming about him. And I know it aint right but I can't help it. And you can't even lie, I know you think about me too. Wondering what I'm doing, what I'm up to. And you probably thinking about all my loving, all my fucking. Wishing you could take a trip and change our whole relationship. But I guess this is just how things are meant to be. You doing you, and me doing me. You'll always be my first love.

Dec.2009

The Illusionist

I want to run away from my troubles. I want to vanish into thin air and hope to never reappear. Sort of like a magic trick gone bad. Call me the illusionist. My performance starts with a grin that goes from one ear to the other across my face. All part of my act. Must be since happiness died long ago. The lines in my face make me look hard, mean, cruel, malevolent. There is fire in my eyes equivalent to the rage held within. I rebel out of anger. Call me the illusionist. Invisible in the world, but everyone can see me. Like a transparent being, they see right through me. Like a book, they can read me backwords and forward like their favorite childhood story. Call me the illusionist. Easy and insignificant, my purpose is still not determined. I walk through the cold streets unafraid, though lost in the mix of affection. My soul wanders, still searching for my final act. Call me the illusionist

Dec.2008