This taunting blinking line, forcing me to write. It says all my words for me. It says nothing. This sudden shock and impact, how can i write? What can i possibly say to make all these matters better? To make every one's pain go away. You're home now, in the arms of God. Oh how I hope there is a God to soothe you. For if we feel this amount of pain for the loss of one friend, one person, one precious life put on earth to make us smile, how must you feel?

The worst part?

I can't even cry. I can't shed a single tear, because this can't be real, and this isn't happening. Not to me, not to us. The sky cried for me today. Pushed its tears into me, and its angry wind. This wasn't your time, you were young and beautiful, you are young and beautiful. It brings to mind how unforgiving death can be, when it creeps up and sits beside you. Filling a void with more nothingness where your smile should rest; where your eyes should be; where your laughter should linger.

I see now why death would want you. Why it would want to take you and embrace you. We all glorify death until it happens to a dear one, close and young.



I see now, why anyone would want you.



We all become believers when someone dies. I hope you're up there, and I hope you're looking down. Smile for us. Because we sure as hell can't.



Yes, I see now why death would want you.



As I sat in the back of the car, warm, salty tears violently streamed down my face. Tears with no weeping or reason, just streaming oceans. I sometimes wonder if anyone ever understand or feels anything I feel. It's so strange to cry for no reason, but still so painful. My heart feels like its going to combust from over exposure to my over emotional self. It's hard to imagine anyone but yourself in times of pain, really. Even in any times of extreme emotion, rage, jealousy, happiness.. most emotions always make you so self involved and absorbed, you acquire tunnel vision.
But when we aren't consumed by our own emotions, we want others to notice us and pay special attention, when they have their own feelings to fill their time up, where does time for anyone other than ourselves really come into play, or possibility?
I often wish horrible things upon myself, for sick reasons of vanity. How would it feel to have every one's every ounce of love, courage, pity, hope and sadness trust upon you? Would it take a terminal illness to be noticed. Surely it's not the case, but often in a world of self-involvement, it seems like the only option to get any means of attention.



I miss the morning after feeling.
Sick but comforting.
To have someone hold me all throughout night,
someone to roll over to, and smile to.

Be my morning after regret.



i drove all these miles to visit you,
but you couldn't stand to see me.
i stayed alone,
the lack of you threw everything off course.
i couldn't even sleep because you weren't there to keep me up.
and your scent wasn't there to comfort me.
i cried all those miles back home.
and now you want me back.