Books, Masks and Mirrors...

My life isn't closed.
In fact, it's an open book.
I wear my heart on my sleeve,
Its inside of that little book.
Inside of the book,
There is a hole cut within.
Inside lies a glass orb.
Inside that, my heart.

Bare for all to see.
I wear masks no longer.
Masks hide the beauty within.
And even within me, some beauty resides.

I wear my heart on my sleeve,
I'm an open book.
When I look in the mirror, I'm happy...


Are you?

Tick Tock...

Tick Tock...
The clock continues,
Time resumes.
But only when you leave.

Waiting is hard,
I have to sit,
and watch you fight.
Argue, This, That...

Then you blame yourself,
When it truly was never your fault.
This pain I feel,
Wanting something...

Something I'm not sure I'll ever have.
But waiting for something makes everything,
In the end at least...
Worthwhile...

Tick Tock...
Time resumes,
But even when the clock runs..
Time seemes to simply drag on...

Cracked Reclusion

re⋅clu⋅sion
 [ri-kloo-zhuhn]

–noun
1.     the condition or life of a recluse.
2.     an act of shutting or the state of being shut up in seclusion.


Even the strong break...
Even those who seem happy all the time,
Eventually are brought down by their inner demons.
It is my time now.

The cracks are showing.
In my fragile psyche...
The cracks are growing,
Soon they will shatter.

I hate being seen,
All my flaws are exposed.
My heart is breaking,
Why can't I be in repose?

Reclusion seems to be,
My only answer.
My only sedative.
My only cure.

Sweep Me Off My Feet

Sitting here I marvel
At how easily I fell.
Fell really hard,
For you.

Yet as I fall,
It feels like flight.
It's amazing
How close the two are,
As you sweep me off my feet.

I twist and turn,
Drifting and Floating,
My heart is soaring
As it flies clear past Cloud Nine.

Irony

Funny how you look back on things
And almost wish they were different.
I wonder;
What could we have been?

Would we have flown and shined?
Or would we have crashed and burned?
I think I may have found my first regret...
Ironic, isn't it?

Me; who has never regretted a thing,
The one thing I finally regret;
is the one thing I said;
I'd never do.

That one thing,
I regret saying those words...
"I can't fucking do this anymore, R."
Ironic... Isn't it?


I'm sorry...

The Fear

The Fear is there,
Burning through my veins.
Like a raging wildfire,
It sears and scars my soul.

Right now
I can't be
Everything you want.
Though I try my hardest.

I try to open up,
More than I am able.
Everytime I make a little progress,
I sit there and regress.

Its an endless battle,
Between the small child,
And the "Strong Young Lady",
I've become.

The fire sears my heart,
It scars my soul,
That inner child.

That small little,
7 Year Old Me.
The hurt, scared, scarred,
Fragile young girl...

Still afraid is she,
She sits in a dark corner.
Using the shadows at,
The deepest depths of my mind,

To hide,
To protect herself
From those raging fires,
From the fear...