Think back to what you said...*

People live in dark realities,
A grim fairy tale of
Hope and heartache.
People always try--
But then again,
People always fail:
Is it better to question your potential,
Or falter in a better place?

Some give in,
Trying to fill the wallowing gap in their chest.
#heart.
Ending up heartless on street corners,
The scams begging for money to
Buy their drugs,
The ones who really need help suffer.
Their first mistake:
Setting out to fail.

Others let it gather,
A dreary storm in their eyes,
Clouding their perception
While every friend turns hostile:
Fiends consulting the enemy.
Let the storm blow over--
Don't give in.

An inseparable companion

Caused by the interception of light

A comparative darkness

That is crystal clear in hindsight

Like the soul dictates a person

A shadow’s bed is made

From dawn to dusk, its fate is ******

into a merciless grave

For a shadow is dependent

On the laws of light

& It’s movement is restricted

To it’s suburbanite.

Its fleeting fate is understood

& yet it goes ignored

I wonder if the shadow could

End the misery it endures

Because as the day persists

Shadows continuously change

This lack of self must be felt

with a tremendous sense of pain

So as the shadow dwindles down

To the object it draws near

The entity becomes unbound

As night reclaims the hemisphere

Therefore, a life is worth the strife

The truth shall be unveiled

A shadow’s love for the night

Is one that will always prevail

He was the sun.
And she was the moon.
The distance took a toll,
the timing hindered their potential,
and their differences collided.
You see, their paths rarely crossed.
But when they do,
they could not get enough of each other

Watching someone's heart die
tastes a lot more like dirt than rust.
It is fresh
and moist,
the taste of life
still lingering in its clutches.

Seeing something great sputter out does not leave a
chemical aftertaste,
for nothing has yet changed,
only dimmed.

As I watch your past
play before my eyes like an old silent film,
I wonder how easily I might guess what
words
you were mouthing.

But the film is over,
the negatives never produced
and all we're left with is a
man of little importance
and left behind potential.

On the phone tonight you told me of how you used to paint
using tie dye
and I guess it was the first time I realized
if I had been your age,
we would have been
good friends.

But what hurts more
than watching your life
pass before my eyes
is looking back on my own life and seeing
what you used to be.

I see you painting the sunset and blasting U2 while cooking dinner.

I see the well worn pages of your script for the latest play-
notes hastily scratched in,
scratched out,
and rewritten.

I see the way you used to speak
when talking to your church
and it hurts because
as hard as I try,
I can't FEEL it anymore.

It seems that now all I feel is the way you
hit
your breaks or
slam
your computer shut
almost as if your heart knows how much is going to waste
and there simply isn't any better way to communicate the pain
that comes from knowing
you've given up.




I remember the day you sold your first painting.
Your eyes were bright and they twinkled.
But now I look at your bedroom walls covered ceiling to floor with the paintings no one ever bought

and I wonder if they sing you to sleep

and I wonder if they haunt your dreams.

And I wonder,
watching you move slower than you used to,
if you gave up your potential without a fight.

Am I losing hold?
In a hurricane thought storm
Little deaths on the television
Remind me of my inactions

Said I’d even myself
Out, after giving into self
Doubt. Unstable, leaning toward self
Harm, while the world tumbles itself
Round

Bitter at my own lack
Feel the fire dying in my breath
While the world
Burns and breaks and blisters in a growing wreck

Did my stutter break another heart?
Did my whisper **** that child?
Too quiet for him to hear the reason
I searched for myself, at sixteen

Is every stilted thought, wasted potential / opportunity
To better myself, better the world,
And every person I'll ever meet?

I will not let
Hesitation
Separate
Soul from body
Ever again

I am not lifeless
I am not cruel
I will not be a bystander
I swear

I am not lifeless
I am not cruel
I will not be a bystander
I swear
Ever again

Potential
Talks of the future
Turning into expectations
Turning into reality
Reality tugs at me like no other
Relentlessly pulling
Stretching me to thin ice
Just waiting to be broken
By what?
Test scores?
Shots made?
By your long awaited future
Future filled by preparation
In reality all thats possessed is hope
For this ****** potential to come through