I am running away again; Every question is an answer To the problems in my head. There’s too much in the world today That doesn’t seem quite right, And I must face (or else fly from) The fact I’m not a light. I keep looking at paths forward And I see too many lies; The trouble with an honest liar Is it always comes as a surprise When the people who should be telling truths Are telling you what face goes best with ties, And like something that could be boxed, They go ahead and advertise The person that you ought to be To fit into the largest mold. But I’m afraid a world like that For me, is just too cold; Something in me rails against The lies we’re asked to tell. I tell the ones I need to; But there’s none I mean to sell.
Does it make me immature To always play the fool? Does it make me somehow less To play by your own rules? Am I supposed to make it out Like what is said is not a wall? Am I supposed to never cry Or feel anything at all? No matter if I hear anger In every other breath; No matter if my father Jokes of his own death; No matter is supposed to be Beyond my reckoning: I’m supposed to somehow know this world That I have never seen. To know the foolishness of man — Is that maturity? If so, I’ve had my fill And I beg you let me be.
July fourth Watching fireworks Each one, a family Each one, a memory Every one a possibility Only, not for me The people behind those lights I will never meet The moments that they make Will never require me to be complete And I’ve been told so many times Not to make so much of little things But it strikes me in its tragedy And the tears take off with failing wings.
It was your birthday today And I merely closed my eyes Everything I ought to say Dismissed with “nevermind” All the games we used to play Exchanged for worries and white lies And if we were friends again someday I don’t know what you’d find.
Apparently, today (technically yesterday now — sorry) was my blog’s third anniversary. I had meant to begin blogging on my birthday (later in the month), a sort of coming of age present to myself; but, metaphorically speaking, the temperature of my feet began to drop, and I decided it’d be best to just jump in before I completely lost my nerve. I’m very glad I did so.
Though I haven’t exactly been on top of things lately, I appreciate this community a great deal, and everyone who’s decided to join me here, recently and in the past. I wish I could return half so much of your cleverness, kindness, and attention. But I’m afraid I must again caution that my attentions have external reasons to be diverted, and I may (assuming that’s even possible) be even more scarce than I’ve been. Sorry in advance!
I am friendless because I died and no one ever knew; Every day something of darkness Inside my spirit grew. But nobody seemed to notice; No, not even you. And I realized that I was alone And might as well suffer that way too.
I’ve imagined each scenario, Examined with a fine-tooth comb; Will it be failure pronounced in stereo, Or a fairytale until I’m home? Will I be a disappointment? A catatonic mess? Will I choose “fool” for my employment, Or will I dazzle and impress? Will he be ashamed to claim relation? Will the day ever even come? Or will he rescind my invitation Long before it’s said and done?