I won’t be getting better
Though I’ll play it like I do
You know I’m not that clever
Or else then I’d be you—
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Beautiful Days
Beautiful music plays
while I remember—the worst—
most beautiful days.
still as the evening air
For some reason, people
just keep on sticking around—
no matter how I push them away.
And God knows I’ve tried, yet
still as the evening air
they remain, willing and shifty
to see me from my darkness
onward, till dawn.
A message from that time I cut myself off from the world. (circa 2009)
What I lost in my depression
What developed over time
Who grew within my absence
Who called but couldn’t find
The person who they once knew
Who only wished to die
Where deep within my fortress
Of solitude did I
Salute them in their merit
Who tried from time to time
To free me from my burden
Which words could not describe
Though even in my heartache
I never told a lie
But took pride in them knowing
Their strength I too could find
That’s why I keep them with me
Past lovers, friends, and my
Gratitude for suffering
This awfully fragile mind
Grown with understanding
Like fruit picked from a vine
I’m grounded by their blessings
And grateful for this life
Breathe
To breathe is a gift we often overlook
though each day we are granted this ability.
Today, breathe deeply, fully
and accept that you are worthy,
to breathe.
wasted days
I remember all my wasted days
so vividly now and always
because for all my wasted days
tallied together, I’m that much more
thankful for the good ones
and the people I shared them with,
who made them great and who I miss dearly
upon all these abundant, wasted days.
Words Of An Average White Male 