Forward Movement

Looking down I can see the road that I am on

And I stand firm again on my two feet

Though still unsure of my footing

I look back and I see the road that I have already traveled

Lined along the edges with the pain of my memories

And abounding with tell tale signs of all my mistakes

Places where I veered off the road or crashed head on with disappointment

I look back and I am surprised I made it even this far

With tears threatening with their sting to flow from my eyes

I can say I survived and I I can finally turn around and face the future

I look forward and I see the road that lies ahead of me

Unfamiliar and uncharted

Taking my next steps I can’t help but wonder just where I will end up

Because I know I’ll never be here again

Stranded

Feeling lost I am stranded

On some lonely deserted island

At the edges of sanity

I find it rather uneventful

The repetitive seas forever lapping at the shores of my reality

Waiting in futility for that message in a bottle

But none will ever come here

No reaches me

I watch as days die in countless numbers

I have seen the sun give birth to light in the east

I have seen it die in the west

Though they pass by in endless procession

Days never change and end all the same

Beached on the sands of seeming tranquility

I resign myself to the endless rhythm of the waves

Crashing against my paradise turned prison

I know no other place

Stranger in Stranger Clothing

I am a stranger in stranger clothing

Wishing only to fade away from the forefront of attention

I shy away from the cold unblinking stares of strange passersby

I turn my music up to high and my defenses even higher

I am a stranger in stranger clothing

I morph my outward appearance to blend in

I alter my speech and add and delete words from my vocabulary

Though you would never know it, I’d die for you to notice

I am not just another stranger on a bus I live I breathe I struggle every day

Just like you so take a look and tell me what you see

A stranger in stranger clothing or a reflection of yourself

It's... Nothing...

I come to bed hoping sleep’s embrace might just take hold of me tonight

But instead I come to bed and I find an ice cold bed of loneliness

Its not the dark that I fear anymore it’s the thoughts that race and pace around inside my head at night

Those day long slivers or repetitive thought

Day long slivers of repetitive thought

It’s not being able to get you out of my head

It’s like you flip a switch somewhere deep inside me

Because every time I see you my brain goes numb and my hearts beat grows ever louder

I feel it in my chest this tightening of my rib cage, shortening of my breath, a quickening of my pulse

It’s the deafening of my ears, the blinding of my eyes, blotting out everything but the sight and sound of you

It’s something that at times can be inexplicable, and at others actually quite predictable

Its the loneliness I fear the thought that I might never be able to hold you in my arms

And its not being able to tell you a single word of this

Away

Let us for just one night, tonight forget about everything in this crazy mad world

Forget about all the problems we face each day

Yours and mine included

Let’s slip away from all the bullshit

Withdraw from a world of negativity and escape to one of blissful unawareness

Or should I say singular awareness, it’s only you

Yes I’ll be there too like I’ve always been

Come with me let us just be

I could not ask for more than your presence

Where ever we end up sure as hell won’t matter at least not tonight

Escape with me this world will never bind us to it’s self-destruction

Come, let’s get away, so what do you say?

Take A Page From My Book...

And I mean that litterally... this is a passage from the novel I am writing. It slightly describes how I started writing.

When I got home that night I was in a writing mood. I didn't even bother eating, I just went straight into my room and turned on my radio as loud as it would go, then I grabbed my notebook and a pen. I had to write.

I sat down on my bed and stared at the blank page infront of me. My brain was racing, my thoughts bounced from Sandra, to Charlie, back to Sandra, to the potential strain this would put on the friendship of Charlie and I, and back to Sandra. I couldn't get her out of my head, everytime I tried, something pulled her back in.

I kept thinking about the way she made me feel, it felt like I couldn't breathe, but in a good way. I got butterflies in my stomach, and my head started spinning. It felt as though she had knocked me flat on my ass and I couldn't get up. The weirdest thing was, no matter how scary that felt, I couldn't get enough.

It seemed as if I had just blinked and when I opened my eyes and looked down, the page was full of words. I read through what I had subconsiously written and it was one of the best poems that I had written in a while. But even with how proud I should have been of that poem, all I could think of is how Sandra would react if I showed her. I knew she loved poetry. I wanted to show her that poem, tell her that it was written for her. But deep down I knew that I would only do the first half of that.