The Wolf

I have to watch the road and look away
I know what it says if I choose to stay
Desperation suits all people ill
But damn if I’m not desperate still

I like to fancy that I know you well
The danger does not harm the sell
I feel less alone when I’m with you
And I wonder if you aren’t lonely too

Ah, the holes we like to dig
I know you’re a wolf with a sheepish wig
But I still wonder if in your wolfish heart
All you really are is torn apart.

Half My Heart

I wish with half my heart
To seize the start until the end
And become that better person
In some ways other than pretend
To be the loving, loyal lamb
Without this fear that I’m the fatted calf
I wish with half my heart
But how can I live without the second half?


You say I’ll become what I think I am —
Your favored mind over matter theory;
But I think what I’ve heard again and again,
And wonder, how doesn’t that apply to me?

My role models are filled with despair;
My benefits of doubt dismissed as fantasy.
I’m told to trust no one —
Now how doesn’t that apply to me?

I’m stubborn, to be sure:
When set to fight, I fear to flee;
But all your laughter at those led —
How doesn’t that apply to me?

Some might call me mediator
For my hate of animosity;
But now like any good diplomat,
Conflict’s all I see.

Dancing With Fire

I have been caught in a dance with a flame
I have been warned, but still I remain
I have been drawn by the warmth of a fire,
But I find It’s the steps of the dance I desire

I have been caught in a dance with a flame
I’ve heard it all; he’s not one I can tame
But I know the truth at the heart of the fire,
And there’s worse things in life than a boy and his pyre

Letter to Myself…

Dear… Well, you.

So, you’ve been having a weird time lately. You had a boyfriend. For like a week. Realized you fell short of your own ideals, and weren’t actually ready for that kind of relationship. Yes: it turns out that you’re really not so different from everyone else. You, too, act out in anger and frustration. You, too, can let fear and loneliness drive you.

But that’s not such a terrible realization.

You got to talk to your sister because of it. She called you out, and you were glad of it. You get so tired of the hiding; It’s nice to speak honestly about things. You even talked with Mom a little. And you got to spend a little time with someone outside your family. You expected all of the worst things when you realized what you had to tell him; but he actually surprised you. Perhaps he’ll continue to. Perhaps not. But you’re thankful anyway.

It made you think of things that make you cry; Friendships lost because of your own foolishness. It happened so slow and quiet. They still live right next door, and yet they feel a world away. How can you ask their forgiveness? How can you pretend you’re anything more than a wreck of a person? You don’t feel you can. You’ve given what signals you know how to, in the past, hoping that maybe they’ll catch on and reach back. But they have their own lives. You’re trying to accept that. You wonder if maybe you should just get over it and move on. But they’re still like family to you.

Your sister has said that everyone has their own lives, and that yours and theirs aren’t mutually exclusive. Believing that can be hard. There’s still the thought that you’re more than you think you are — that you’re actually worse. Like maybe you’re a serial killer in the making. You’re pretty sure you’ve scared your sister with comments like that before; With doubts in your own sanity, nonchalant remarks of things you worry might be serious. But you’re not sure what else to do.

But come, if the past month or two has taught you anything, it’s that you need to learn to look beyond all the doom and gloom. You’re capable of more than you realize. And while staying in your head may seem safer, what’s in your head will never surprise you. You will always be alone.

And as it turns out, you don’t like that so much.

So, with much love

D’abord, Dernier?

I don’t want to be easy…
But I don’t want to be cruel.
How to be what I need to be,
When I don’t know what I need to be at all?

I don’t want to be weak…
But I can feel myself trembling.
Curse my unsteady heart!
And curse conflicted logic, that darned uncertain thing!

Because I don’t want to be foolish;
But I’m not sure which is not:
To be alone forever,
Or to take the chances that always may be fraught?

A Seeker or a Dreamer, with Nothing in Between

The words I’ve said time and again:
The white lies, the quick escape.
I say that it will end — but when?
What change comes that I would even take?

What spoken mantras become truth
When spoken only as a tune,
To leave and lie and say, “forsooth,
I’ve done all I can, now change comes soon”?

But change rarely comes to those who wish it:
Only those who seek, shall find;
And if there’s a price, could the Dreamer pay it?
Or will the newborn Seeker only lose his mind?


I am not the paragon;
This story isn’t mine.
I can pretend it is all day long,
But in the end I still am lying.

I am not the prodigal;
I’m not coming to return.
I come to leech until I’m full,
And then I’ll watch your carcass burn.

I am not the beauty;
The beast is all I know.
People always think they see —
Until they learn what makes my roses grow.

I am not the monster;
I am just a human being.
But I can’t tell any longer
Which is the worse feeling.