If you knew it wasn't me all along,
Why did you drag me by your side?
Why did you take me for granted?
Was it your intention to make me cry?
Because here I am,
Still wondering why,
What I ever did to you.
All I did was love you,
All I did was care.
I guess I cared too much,
Because now you're nowhere.
You'll forever be ingrained in my mind,
Footprints on my heart.
You've left your mark on me,
Changed who I am,
But now you're not here to see.
You don't get to see the new me,
The me that you helped form.
I learned from you,
And you sure as hell taught me a lot.
You taught me how to love,
Not just others but myself.
I'm not quite sure why you're still the topic of my writing,
For it's been over a year.
But not a day goes by where I don't think about you.
I miss you,
I miss us,
Whatever it may have been,
You can't tell me you didn't feel it too.

just for a moment
darling, I beg you
don't move
don't speak
don't laugh
don't feel
don't ****

just for a moment
darling, look at me
stare at me a lil longer
wouldn't it be good this way
with less people to impress

just for a moment
darling, you and me

beauty is of many faces
found in many forms and places
first is seen the beauty of the face
it's the greatest at the start
but before its dead it can swell your head
and leave you naught but a broken heart
all and all a rarer find
is the beauty of the mind
it grows and flowers with each season
it’s one true love is love of reason
if this beauty grows to great
it can see the need for love too late
if too much of this you own
expect a hard thought life alone
the most amazing of all is set apart
it's the deepest beauty of the heart
traces found almost everywhere
it’s on the wind and in a prayer
you'll find it anyplace that's wild
and in the laughter of a child
its the beauty that will never fade
still found today as god first made
when this beauty you can confess
you'll find true love and happiness

Yesterday was,
today is,
tomorrow has yet
to be.

Time itself;
a unit of measurement
for our own failing bodies.

Counting machines
with hands and faces;
"tick-tock" insist the clocks.

Smiling on me
from atop the wall,
numbers serve as chopping blocks.