Rusted Hole

I'm broken,
Let's be honest about it.
I mask it quite well when you're under my spell.

Peel back the layers,  only a few have.
But when you don't,
I become numb... distant... and feel my wounds.

I see them when I look in the mirror,
I feel them when I touch my skin,
They pierce my soul,
A rusty nail, that's left a hole.

Places I've Never Been

Soaking in my tub,
Rose petals stick to my skin.
Stuck in my head again,
Acting like it's a place I've never been.

Candle flickers, casting shadows
I pretend , they're dancing
To the songs I write, but only dare to sing in solitude.

Find my lyrics on my voice memos,
Scattered throughout old poetry books,
Etched into my planner,
Places where nobody, but me, ever looks.

And I like to try the small talk,
Even though, you're not one for it.
Unless it's five a.m. in LA,
And there's liquor on my lips.

So here I am just writing poems,
Of places I've never been...
Or have I been those places,
By simply touching your fragile skin?

Maybe I've been to Paris,
And danced away the nights,
At underground rock parties,
Guided only, by city lights.

And maybe I've been to Denmark,
And wore fur while drinking gin...
Or hopped a bus in London,
Partook in lavish sins.

Just maybe I've been these places, I think I've never been.

Reckless

I want to feel alive again,
Feel the wind in my hair,
The sun on my skin,
The freedom that's trying to escape from within.

I want to climb to new heights,
Explore new depths,
Be reckless...

So reckless that fear is the last thought on my mind or word on my tongue.
So reckless that my soul feels electrified and strung on the high.

So reckless, that I fall endlessly into oblivion drenched in iridescent light.

To Be

Capture the moment with me,
The way you capture your breath at three in the morning.

Get lost in my eyes, the way you get lost driving, even with a GPS feeding you directions.

Be passionate with me, the way you are passionate about your art.

Because right now... I need you to be.

Easily Forgotton

Time and time again,
I'm convinced that I could be easily forgotten.

"Call you back"
False hope
From loved ones that have seen it all, but turned a blind eye.

Time and time again,
I'm convinced that my voice is just an echo.
Reverberating into the unknown,
Like a song left unsung.

Time and time again,
I'm convinced that my whisper is just the wind,
Passing by,
On a breezy day in Central Park,
Not a thought to accompany it.

So here I lay again,
Broken,
Bound to my thoughts.
Empty , yet seemingly whole.

Impossible to Understand

And they don't understand,
You're destined for more.

Your body lies cold,
On your hard bathroom floor.

The heat radiates from your soft olive skin,
While the chill of the air, suffocates it.

But they don't even know,
What you're doing it for.
Just another day bound, to your cold bathroom floor.

Such As

Such highs,
Such lows,
Such, as life goes.