Leaning back, in my chair
Through glass, outside I stare
A raven sits, upon my window sill
Humbly keeping, to himself until
Drunk Words
If drunk words are sober thoughts, then what the hell are you? Drunkenly thinking about the way you spend your life with this other person drives me into a craze. I’m smashing the keys on an undeserving keyboard because of you. I’ve spent the last few years tormented, between sober thoughts and drunk confessions to friends about the great “she”. Meanwhile, you’ve spent the last few years creating space between the both of us. All in an effort for what? You belittle and destroy me with the few words I reap every now and then. You say you’re over it and you say I’m in the past, yet here we are once again doing what we do best: contemplating and discerning our feelings for each other.
Repeating Apologies
It hurts doing this to myself. It hurts knowing I’m not nearly as important to you as you are to me. I’ve left you alone for days now and I’m afraid the only one who actually feels alone is me. I’ve spent the last weeks—months actually—dedicating myself to you because you’ve expressed a desire for it. A desire for love. A love that is passionate and fiery and as addicting as heroin. A love you haven’t experienced in a very long time. I’ve poured my very heart out for you over and over again. I’ve stayed awake, woken up early, written, and prayed. All for a chance you may turn around and do the same. Nightly repeating apologies have become an egregious lullaby for a somber heart and I dread the morning. When I awake, the reality of my world without you comes to fruition and I’m alone. The cold bites my skin and reminds me of where you are not: Here. Continue reading
Cigarettes in the Dark
I step outside to clear my head
In my hand a cigarette slowly burns
Reciting every word never said
Ashes fall as this world turns
Standing here alone, with a heart
Beating, fleeting, hurt so furious
Cold in this wind, Love and I apart
This relationship of ours, so curious Continue reading
Heart Beats
Her breath was the sweetest guitar strum
Like the silence breaking, beating
Of a dusty, long forgotten drum
Music played without notes for reading
Her voice the long draw of a bow
Across the strings of this worn out heart
An orchestra for a one man show
Waiting patiently for my favorite part Continue reading
A Potent Excuse
The greatest frustration in my life, seems to come from what is becoming a distorted view on Love. In my mind and heart, Love is this grand ever-changing idea. A notion so great, its very existence voids all sense of reason and logic. Love, in itself, has no set definition and is a fluid emotion experienced differently by all. Whereas my idea of Love, is almost an excuse. An excuse for the absurd situations I repeatedly put myself in. Situations, where if logic was applied, anyone could see are toxic and contribute nothing except despair and regret. Despite knowing exactly how detrimental my aversion to this common rationale is, Continue reading
Mike Writes 