Posted in My life - Written by God, produced by 21st Century middle America, and lived by me, myself, and I., The Modern Classics, Uncategorized

“My chemical makeup makes it impossible to forget you, but I’m hoping that with time I’ll remember the me that existed without you..”

There is no happiness in the world, just a series of paths that grow progressively darker as more time passes. In the end, it culminates into something so black, you can’t see anything moving forward, and you can’t see anything when you look back, so your left choking on empty memories, and in that dark womb you’ll wonder if anything has ever happened to you that would have made life worth experiencing this cruel, crushing, relentless weight… And even at the end, when I have nothing left but pain and regret, I close my eyes and somehow catch a glimpse of who I used to be. It’s only a reflection, but it’s real, and I know that at some point in my life I was able to smile…but this is a reflection, so I can’t ignore the eyes in which I see the reflection… At the end of all things, where I’m alone in a universe that doesn’t care, I can’t go to sleep without seeing your face…and it hurts…it hurts so goddamn much…

Posted in My life - Written by God, produced by 21st Century middle America, and lived by me, myself, and I., Poetry, The Modern Classics, Uncategorized

“I wasted all of my good fortune on memories that could never last. I didn’t save anything, so of course I have nothing…” (part 5 of 5)

I want fortune to listen

As I struggle with my speech,

To flinch as the words reveal

Scar after scar.

My words resonate regret,

And as all moisture

Evaporates in my throat,

Every note is coated

In varying shades

Of a screeching rust.

Posted in My life - Written by God, produced by 21st Century middle America, and lived by me, myself, and I., The Modern Classics, Uncategorized

I’m tired of seeing things that existed before you now as nothing else but reminders of you. I can’t erase you…but I’d give anything to have those things back, without you..

She reminds you of birthday cake and lavender hand soap. Her smile contains hints of vanilla summers and cinnamon winter’s. She speaks, and it sounds like fresh movie theater popcorn and the fizzling of a perfectly topped off cup of Coca-Cola. You hold her hand, and warmth rushes through your body like hot chocolate, and you feel nervous butterflies under every inch of your skin. Yet just as quickly as she sets your nerves on fire she also gives comfort, the same comfort you used to find sleeping in, snuggled tight under warm sheets on snowdays. She is…everything in my life that has ever brought me happiness…and she’s gone, but those things, vanilla summers and fizzing soda and hot chocolate snow days, they are all still here…she wasn’t all those things, because they existed before her…so keep moving forward, one day at a time, and I’m sure the day will come when those wonderfully comforting things will be comfortable once again…