Remember, my dear,
Even the sunshine will return to its darkness

The final two
Her and I
Hand in hand
Like this won’t change a thing
As we await the results

She squeezes my hand
Whispers a gentle
It’s going to be us three
Like always
And i believe it

And as her name is called
I still believe it
Us three
Nothing will change
There was no real winner

If she doesn’t live up to the title
Here i’ll be
To take her position
To take on the roll
And all the responsibilities

She didn’t
And you come crawling to me
Begging me to take the title
To take her place
That i should’ve won anyway

I gladly take it
Because why wouldn’t I
It’s all i’ve ever wanted
You and I
The two as it’s supposed to be

While she’s off on her scandal
It’s as if the competition never happened
And it’s three years ago all over again
With me in the job
And all of the responsibilities


But the scandal lightens
Not as bad as you thought
And suddenly i’m not the winner
And i stand with a crown on my head
And a meaningless title

But you continue to tell me I won
As you tell her the same thing
And how she always says
It’s us three
Even though we know it never will be

But i let it go
As the curtain drops
As the cameras stop rolling
As the audience goes home
As you act like the scandal never happened

And here I am
As I watch the competition back
As I notice how this all really happened
How it is through a different lense
And I turn the television off

And I walk away

i want to write something people can resonate with.
for most of my life, i spent hours in book that i cried with or laughed to.
but now it is my turn.
i want to write for the ones with swollen hearts that are full of love,
i want to write something for the kids who were never enough,
for those spend hours sitting in the shower because the water frowns out the sounds of their tears,
i want to write something for the ones who have spent nights upon nights dreaming of ways to leave this world,
i want to write something for those finding bliss in baggies and hope in a pill
for the children who have found companionship in literary hero’s,
for the ones who twist words and rhymes,
the ones who for countless hours have manipulated vowel sounds and consonant endings.
i want to write for the ones who still believe in the magic of pixie dust,
for the ones who’s pixie dust only lives in hard bound books and in aisles of forgotten book stores.
i want to write something for those who appreciate the weird and find comfort in the uncommon.
i want to write for those fighting every day for that loaf of bread in the grocery store.
i want to write something people can resonate with.
because i’ve been there
so here it is,
here’s to you.

you are my cup of tea
in a world full of coffee stains

Reach out and cut your hands on the glass strand shards
Sticking out of my heart
Shouting in rage; forgetting my age
Desperately hoping to engage
Or restart

Walking on eggshells and retract
From the fact that both my feet retreat
When I sense you lurking so tactfully
One wrong step severs that last kind breath
Until we forget what it was like before
In between a battleground haze (mazes comprised to our designs)
And ulterior motives

It's amazing how forgetful we can be
Until there's no good memories
I need some recompense to provide for an accurate censor
And try to determine why I feel greed
And propensity in my relationships

I don't want to be caught in the same headspace
What a waste to frivolously seek the finish line
Leaving impressive vines with no roots
And nothing to annoint
But I suppose its due to the exceedingly increasing value
Of time and how that robs us blind
With nothing to do
And a moot point