Love.
How simple that word is except it has been misunderstood; illused,
Media portrays it everywehere.
So much so, it's shoved down our throats.
Some say love is forgive and forget; blood runs thicker.
But what about the one who manipulates, anillates, and isolates this thing.
This little thing called love.
L-O-V-E
it puts the L in "love me just as I am,"
the O in "Over and Over please forgive me,"
V in whispered in the "Very unpredictable challenges that come" and E.
E as in"Every day remind me with those sweet tender nothings. "
We wish for the old timey love but instead we now wish,
for the love where we grow old, and it doesn't matter what time makes us look like.
The love where we don't want to get the phone.
The love where we pursue through the tough times.
Where we don't give up after just one fight.
Or we misuse our words.
Kind of like the word love.
I've heard it gets misused a lot.

You would never know it,
The constant pain I feel,
Because in the light of day
It almost isn't real.

Sure, I'll play, I'll laugh,
I'll sing some songs,
But that pain is always lurking
Because it's been here all along.

And when the darkness comes
With its all-consuming power,
It slowly takes my soul
Hour by dreadful hour.

But they tell me that I'm strong enough.
They swear that it gets better.
They say, "If you can just hold out
and bear this stormy weather."

They tell me, "You will be happy one day.
All you need do is fight."
But what they seem to forget
Is after each day comes the night.

And so I act along.
I play my part
While this crushing darkness
Slowly breaks my heart.

When someone you truly love dies you are overcome with all
these strong emotions like rage and guiltiness.But the one that always wins is
sadness.You try so hard not to cry during the day just to go home at night cry
uncontrollably a river of sad filled tears. You think of all the good times you two had
and then you sink in to an elaphant sized depression.Knowing you can never do those
things agin for as long as you live.Every days a struggleit feels as if your dragging
two billion pounds behind you.You struggle every day to keep you head held high
when it feel as if your sinking in to a black whole of undiscovered territory.You feel
so weak almost as if you were carved out of ice. The sadness varies between days.Some
days you feel fine others you feel like some one has reached in your chest and
yanked your heart out and stomped it to the ground.

Why do i write?
To help me through the sleepless nights?
What do i gain?
A way to verbally share the pain.
How does it help?
Gives me a way to express myself.
Poetry gives me a way to share my many thoughts
and the many battles that I've fought.
Why do I write?
Just because it feels so right.

Wouldn't you miss me?
If I dropped dead.
Wouldn't you kiss me?
If this 's all I said.

Rain is my scattered mind, in pieces on the window
Pane of my life.
As the rain falls, in an array of broken thoughts,
I feel my soulful embodied heart may fracture.
My eyes grow distant in the gaping sullenness of oppression.
Thoughts race randomly down the glass, on a path to desolation.
The heat of the fire within
My body falls away.
The walls of this fragile being break with pain. I say
I love him, I’ll love him forever,
But lonely is my name, with no light around my soul.
Rain-droplet dreams
Of love collect into pools, and a lake of
Sorrow forms, holding tears of my recent past.
Through my pain, I claim love does not exist.
It is a bright sun of hope around which meanders a desperate heart;
The sun that doesn’t shine in this heart of despair.
As the sun sets around it,
Into the night, my love,
Shall perish

Unsure about everything
Dreams come every night
They creep up on me, overthinking
These overwhelming thoughts I fight