you can't fill that emptiness inside you
you can only set it free

When the storms rage in my head
When I'm drowning in my dread
When I'm living like I'm dead
There you are

When I have no hand to hold
When I've lost sight of control
When I can't be strong or bold
There you are

And even though I see no sign above
I'm asking you to give me strength to trust

God you say that you're good
but everything I know
Seems so out of control

And I can't make sense
of where you are in all this mess
and all I feel is my distress

But you say you're here
Could I know you're here?

I wrote you a poem,
But you never saw it.
All those years ago,
Folded in my pocket.
It didn't say much.
It was short and it was sweet.
It said just enough,
Explained my thoughts complete.
I can still remember
Just how it goes:
I said that I loved you,
But now you'll never know.

I meant to be cliche,
Slip it in your notebook.
Something you could read
When you were alone, but
I guess I chickened out,
Or perhaps I just forgot
Because the next thing I know
I sent it through the wash.
Couldn't read a thing.
Ruined, had to go.
I wrote that I loved you,
But now you wouldn't know.

Never was the one
To discuss my feelings.
Couldn't open up,
Reveal vulnerabilities.
So instead I wrote them down.
It seemed safe that way.
But I knew if you read it
The result would be the same.
So I never tried again,
I let it go.
Still knew that I loved you,
Relieved you'd never know.

Perhaps it was fate
Or the things I couldn't say,
But we reached that point
Where you went your separate way.
Now I only write
For myself and strangers.
Anonymity means
Very little danger.
And I understand
Why you had to go,
But I'll love you forever,
Even if you never know.

Sickly sliding slimy claws around your heart
Your breath comes in desperate pants hot and fast
You hope this panic will end, but know you cannot last
For anxiety is desperate to become your soul companion

362

It struck me—every Day—
The Lightning was as new
As if the Cloud that instant slit
And let the Fire through—

It burned Me—in the Night—
It Blistered to My Dream—
It sickened fresh upon my sight—
With every Morn that came—

I though that Storm—was brief—
The Maddest—quickest by—
But Nature lost the Date of This—
And left it in the Sky—

I've noticed I'm loved in my most familiar state.
Red had been my obsession, my color in my mind, since I was small and whenever I come back to it, people come back to me.

The more light I let shine through, the more people notice, the more they want to know.

I am not often bright enough.

Black is creative. I stall in Black, I waste away in the dark creating non stop.
Black is familiar territory to most but it's not a place people love to return.
In Black, I am alone.
I am once again, in Black.

Red was love and loss and flowers flowing from my body like I was spring.
Red was nights dipped in cool blue, a reminder of love and colors that couldn't be forgotten.
Red became orange, I was faded but desperate, and soon Red wasn't the same. Red was a foreign land, a shade cast over a garden to rest.
And the night set, and Black was all I could see.

I tried to add the colors I saw, I tried to keep dark but vibrant and suddenly nobody wanted to watch, to learn anymore.
If I could trust in the fact of Red, if I could trust that I could go back, I would dive in.
But who's to say that I will be loved again, as I attempt to fool the eye into the brighter?
A dark state is just as comfortable, even if not lovable.