Seeing In the Dark

Here's another brainstorm from a phrase that Jason Sheffield had given me a few months back when I asked for writing ideas.The phrases to start with were:

The key phrases:
* Looking forward to the past
* Hitchhiking in a ghost town
* Dont make me fall in love
* Six feet under but climbing
* I'm not a sex toy
* Seeing in the dark

(Just to make sure no one gets confused- this is not a current life experience. Just a writing bug! lol!)

Soooo.... here's:

Seeing In The Dark
© Meesa Caudill 


I lie awake and hear you breathing
mumbling something in your sleep-
I wonder what you're dreaming
and about the secrets that you keep.
I roll over and kiss your face
and hear you whisper a name...
it's not me you're calling out to-
and I've only got myself to blame.

All these years I've been blind,
not seeing what you need.
All these years you've given your all
and I can't give you any of me.
All these years you wanted a flame
and we didn't even have a spark-
it's taken all this time for me
to start seeing in the dark.

I was so arrogant to believe
you wouldn't find someone new.
Someone who could give their all-
give everything to you.
I underestimated your value,
didn't give you what you deserve-
and it took lying here in the dark
to see how much you're worth.

All these years you wanted a flame
and we didn't even have a spark-
it's taken all this time for me
to start seeing in the dark.

Don't Make Me Fall In Love (A writing experiment...)

Time to clear the brain again! I was doing good on the writing each night for a few days but I slipped again. I just mixed up a cake and have it in the oven for 40 minutes, so I'm gonna take this time to spill out some thoughts in font. My buddy Jason Sheffield gave me a few key phrases to build on and so I think I'm gonna experiment with that. I'm gonna try to throw a few in, hopefully all if my brain will let me! Let's see where it takes me! (Again, thanks Jason!)

The key phrases:
* Looking forward to the past
* Hitchhiking in a ghost town
* Dont make me fall in love
* Six feet under but climbing
* I'm not a sex toy
* Seeing in the dark

(okay, after a few minutes of deliberating, I don't believe I can do it with all of them at once. BUT I am going to allow the ideas to sink in and see what I come up with!)


Don't Make Me Fall In Love
© Meesa Caudill


Don't look at me
as if
I'm the only one in the room
if,
in your peripherals,
you're checking out
that girls
ass.
Don't speak to me
in that soft tone,
telling me your
secrets,
dreams,
and fears
if all you're doing
is trying
to convince me
to
fuck you.
Don't make me laugh
by being
charming
and witty
if the joke turns out
to be
on me.
Don't caress my skin
as if it's made of
priceless silk
if your only intentions
are to caress me
into
false intimacy.
Don't tell me I'm beautiful
and that I'm perfect
in your eyes
if you find perfection
in everything
with
tits.
Don't tell me that
you love me if,
in reality,
the only love
you have ever felt
is for
yourself.
Don't convince me
that I'm the only object
of your desires
if you get hard
at the
thought
of one of my
best friends
naked.
Don't fool me
into believing
that you're the perfect man
when my mind
(when logical)
knows there
is no such thing.
Don't make me
fall
in love
with
you.

Dreams of Alabama

Dreams of Alabama
© Meesa Caudill

It's been a long time since she's seen him-
since she wanted so badly for him to stay-
she lets her mind drift back a few years
to that warm, breezy night in May.
He was the only one she could see
in the bar's soft neon glow,
the world disappeared, no one else existed-
and for the night time moved so slow.
Such a short time she spent with him
but it made her want forever-
she never believed in love at first sight
until their precious time together.

She dreamed of Alabama starry nights
while lying in his embrace.
For just one night she imagined her life
surrounded by Southern grace.
Now her mind drifts off to Alabama-
but her memories have begun to fade,
life could have been so perfect
if her Alabama would have stayed.

It's been years since she's seen his face
and his dark chocolate brown eyes.
She gets a message that hes looking for her
and she begins to feel the butterflies.
The years apart have made her a cynic
so she puts the butterflies to rest,
but she can't stop the longing in her soul
and that aching in her chest.
She finds herself getting lost in daydreams,
trying to remember his dimpled grin.
Her thoughts get lost in Alabama
and she imagines what could have been.

She dreams of Alabama starry nights
and again lying in his embrace.
For just one more night she'll imagine her life
surrounded by Southern grace.
Now her mind drifts off to Alabama-
but her memories have begun to fade,
life could have been so perfect
if her Alabama would have stayed.

Sleepy thoughts...

Sleepy Thoughts
© Meesa Caudill


Echos of memories
thunder through my head-
lyrics of sad songs
fill my thoughts in this bed.
These lonely, empty rooms
occupied only with ghosts from the past-
they're the only company I keep,
the only relationships that last.
Haunted always by yesterday,
full of fear of tomorrow-
pillows damp with tears,
soaked in all my sorrows.
Prayers answered strangely
but never how they were prayed-
I'll go on reminding myself
that God works in His own way.
So for now the sad songs keep playing
as I lie alone in bed,
praying for the echos to be silenced
and for the thunder to stop in my head.

Run Away

Run Away
© Meesa Caudill


Run away, little girl,
run from your fears.
Run from your past,
run from your tears.
Run from the pain
that rips at your soul,
run from the regrets
of mistakes long ago.
Run away from love
so your heart won't break.
Run away from committment-
if you don't give, they can't take.
Run away from God-
He's taken so much from you.
Run away from the demons
that always show through.
Run away from everyone
that tries to get too close.
Run away from the ones
that love you the most.
Run away from it all,
keep running forward.

But stop to ask yourself-
what are you running toward?

Thunderstorm of You

Thunderstorm of You
© Meesa Caudill



My life was like a cloud-free day,
not a drop of rain in sight.
The air was crisp, the beginning of fall-
a perfect autumn night.
With just one glance you were there,
no warning, no alarm.
Like a funnel cloud to a storm chaser
I was entranced by your charm.
Our first days together were sunny and bright,
a few rainbows here and there.
And suddenly there was a dark cloud,
a heaviness in the air.

I had my days in the sun
and then the clouds came rollin' in.
I didn't heed the warning
when the thundering began.
My heart was struck by lightening,
there was a flash, and we were through.
How in the world does a girl survive
the thunderstorm of you?

The tears poured down like torrential rain,
your voice so loud, so full of thunder.
No flash flood warning to save me this time-
I felt myself go under.
Our angry words were hailing down,
striking our souls to the core.
I tried to run, tried to hide-
needed shelter from the storm.
So now I wait while it passes,
praying for crisp air and clear skies.
Hoping I no longer see
the dark clouds in your eyes.

I had my days in the sun
and then the clouds came rollin' in.
I didn't heed the warning
when the thundering began.
My heart was struck by lightening,
there was a flash, and we were through.
How in the world does a girl survive
the thunderstorm of you?

4 years, 6 months, 3 days...

Not one day has passed, not ONE, that I haven't thought about my dad.

Not one week has passed that I haven't had at least one dream with him in it, be it a nightmare or bittersweet.

And not one moment goes by that I don't wish with everything in my still-broken heart that he was still here.

It's been four and a half years now. The pain is more tolerable now, or at least I've learned to live in denial like a pro. It still hurts though, even if it doesn't feel like it's killing me. It's only unbearable when I really allow myself to think about the details. I don't do that very often. I still hear that I need professional help to deal with it, even though it's been so long now. And a few months ago I finally allowed myself to admit that those who have told me that are right.

Often times, before I write one of my notes, blogs, or statuses about him or my son, I wonder if people are sick of reading about it. I don't understand why I even care. So many times throughout my days, I walk around with a smile on my face or trying to make jokes in order to make everyone around me feel good. I try not to show my true emotions because I know most people don't know what to say and it makes them uncomfortable.

So many times I've wondered what he was thinking in the split second before he pulled that trigger. I know he was arguing with his mother about my mom. Was he angry? Was he hurt? Or was he just so sick of the bullshit that he just didn't care anymore? Did he think about me? Did he think about what he was doing to my mom, my sister, his grandchildren? Why didn't he leave us a note? He knew he was going to do it. Why didn't he call?

And so many times I get angry with everyone. I'm angry at almost his entire family. I would go through and list everyone and my reasoning behind it but I won't allow myself to do that. I'll wait until I can afford a shrink to go through my list one-by-one. All I can say is that I hope each of them feel the pain I do, tenfold, every day. No matter how much I love them, I blame them for my dad not being here. I know that a psychiatrist will assure me that I'm just fucked in the head and there's no one to blame but him, but I will always see things differently.

I wonder who will walk me down the aisle if I ever get married again. I don't even know if I'll ever be able to without him. He always said he wouldn't "give me away" twice. Guess he wasn't lying.

If I ever have another child, he won't be here. He left when I was pregnant with my son and that kills me. Didn't he even want to meet him if I had made it to full term? Did he think we'd be better off without him???

Although it's been over four years, the pain has become more tolerable but the questions remain. And the anger... the anger sometimes sears through me, so much so that I feel like I could burst into flames.

I am angry at the world.

Liar, Liar

Liar, Liar
© Meesa Caudill


Liar, liar
your tongue's on fire
from telling all those fibs.
Liar, liar
you're such a crier
when I find out what you did.

"Baby, please believe me!" you say
as the lies roll off your tongue.
You carry the burden of all your stories,
I bet they weigh a ton!
Go find someone to believe your bull
and the venom that you spew.
There's no emotion left in my heart,
no more trust for you.

Liar, liar
your tongue's on fire
from telling all those fibs.
Liar, liar
you're such a crier
when I find out what you did.

You tell me that she's just a friend
so why are her pictures in your phone?
I don't need a liar in my life...
I'm better off alone.
She calls you on the weekend
late at night when we're apart.
You tell me she means nothing to you
but I know better in my heart.
So take your lies, and go to her-
maybe she'll believe your stories are true.
But as for me, I'm done with the drama,
and I'm done with you.

Nothin'

Nothin'
© Meesa Caudill


He says he's workin' late tonight,
don't bother waiting up...
walks in the door at 3 am,
smelling like the club.
But smoke and bourbon can't hide the smell
of perfume on his shirt,
Pretending to sleep, holding back tears,
she lets anger replace the hurt.
Next morning as she cooks breakfast
he reads the paper to relax.
He sees the look on her face, guilt eats him away,
"What's wrong?" he start to ask.
She just smiles and says,
"Nothin'."

But "Nothin'" means somethin'
when there's fire in her eyes.
She can smile and say "nothin'"
but she sees through your lies.
Don't think she's naive when
she hides behind the disguise
of
"nothin'".

He's still "at work" at midnight
and she knows it'll be hours before he's home.
She's out on the town with her best friends...
it's her turn to roam.
Tall, dark, and handsome is standing by the bar,
and he keeps looking her way...
some flirty conversation and a few drinks later
she decides to play.
She's cozy in bed by the time he gets home,
now the guilt kicks in for her.
Pretending she's asleep, she can't hold back the tears,
and she can't hide the hurt.
He kisses her gently on the cheek
as he climbs into bed.
As she kisses him back he can barely see her face,
wet from the tears she's shed.
He's afraid to hear the painful answer
to what he's known all along
wrapping his arms around her,
again he ask's "What's wrong?"
She just smiles and says,
"Nothin'."

But "Nothin'" means somethin'
when there's guilt in her eyes.
She can smile and say "nothin'"
but she tells her own lies.
Don't think she's innocent when
she hides behind the disguise
of
"nothin'".

Growing Up and Saying Goodbye

"“Doing all the little tricky things it takes to grow up, step by step, into an anxious and unsettling world.” ~ Sylvia Plath

I just went to the visitation of a man I went to middle school with. He was the husband of my best friend from my teenage years. He was murdered five days ago. Tomorrow I will go to his funeral, pay my respects, and say goodbye.

What happened to the adults we were supposed to be when we were younger? None of us were supposed to die before we were 80. We were all supposed to be rich and successful. We were all supposed to be invincible. We were all supposed to be healthy and happy until our silver years.

So many people from my yearbooks are gone. Taken away by death. And so many of those who are still breathing have been taken away by drugs. So many who will never have children. So many who will never see the children they do have grow up. So many who will never know their full potential, or what could have been. So many who have let their lives go because of that buzz, that warmth of the drugs that invade their systems, that money that comes with selling those pills, weed, crack, etc. When we were kids, we were all gonna be rock stars. We were supposed to be doctors, lawyers, scientists, engineers, the first woman president...

Now there are so many who are buried, behind bars of a jail or prison, or trapped by addictions. So many of us that didn't come to meet our full potential. So many of us are lost in dreams of what might have been had we taken the road that we were 'supposed' to.

Now I sit here wondering what happened to those youngsters who dreamed of fame, fortune, and success. I wonder at what point did we give up and give in to the people we became. I wonder when the moment was that we realized that those dreams were just us grasping at a reality that was just impossible so we became who we are today.

And I'm left wondering, yet again, about what happens to the human soul once we are breathing no more.Do we get to witness our own funeral and burial before going off into the unknown? Do we 'rest' and await judgment day? Do we immediately go to the gates of Heaven and meet the ever-so-famous St. Peter? Do we get to meet God at the moment we take our last breath? Is there a God? What's He like? Is He the mean, punishing God that we read about in the First Testament of the Bible, or the forgiving, loving, understanding God that the New Testament portrays?

For the rest of my life I will remember those who've passed on as forever young. They will never have to deal with getting old, losing more loved ones, disease, tragedy, the aches and pains each passing year brings our bodies. They will remain the age they were at their last breath for eternity. I may cry because I miss their presence but I do not cry for the dead. I cry for those of us they left behind to mourn, to grieve. I cry for those that are hurting and not sure where to go from here. I cry for those who will miss out on cherished memories they could have had with those that have passed. I cry for the babies who will miss their daddies. I cry for those little girls who will never have their daddy there to walk them down the aisle when they get married. I cry for the mothers they left behind that ache to hold their children just one last time. I cry for the friends and loved ones who will no longer be blessed by the presence of those we hold so dear.

In memory of those lost along the way... may they always stay forever young.

Lee Adams - 12-6-1992
Tedman "Ted" Allan Birchum - 16 years old - 8-20-1993

Jay Chappell - 16 years old - 5-17-1994

Brandon Odom - 16 years old -  5-17-1994

Brad Johnson - 15/16 years old - 1995

Ike Davis - 18 years old - 4-20-1999

Aaron Mills - 22 years old - 4-20-1999

Shane Kimberling - age?

Shane McCormick - 31 years old - 7-10-1999

Laura Webb - age? 

Richard Quesenberry -  8-16-2008

Brian Smith - 2010

Rocky Adams - 33 - 1-4-2011

There are so many more that I'm sure I'm forgetting. Please let me know if there are any I should add.
May they rest in peace and God bless their souls.

"It is foolish and wrong to mourn the men who died. Rather we should thank God that such men lived." ~ George S. Patton, Jr.

I Knew Better

I knew better.
I should have known better.
You'd think I'd know better
than to go falling for you.

I shouldn't let you linger in my head
or be inspired to write songs about you...
I shouldn't be haunted by your eyes-
I knew what I was getting myself into.
I knew that you were dangerous-
I told you that from the start...
I didn't want you to touch me
for fear of you ripping out my heart.
Yet I ignored my instincts
and told myself you were 'just fun'-
I've tried so many times to quit you
but there's nowhere for me to run.

I knew better.
I should have known better.
You'd think I'd know better
than to go falling for you.
Punish me, I deserve it-
tear out my heart, you know you're going to.
I knew better.
I should have known better.
You'd think I'd know better
than to go falling for you.

Each time you come back tempting me
and I can't tell you no-
you know how to get inside my brain...
now you're invading my soul.
When you're not here I think of you-
when you're here I don't want you to leave...
I'm so stupid for letting you get to me-
how could I have been so naive???
And how can you be so cruel to me
to let this carry on-
knowing that I can't let you go
yet, in the morning you'll be gone.

So go ahead, tear out my heart-
we both know you're going to...
I expect the pain, I expect the tears-
my punishment for falling for you.

Me Bein' Dirty (hahaha!)

There you are standin' in front of me
looking so incredible...
you look and smell and taste so good
I wonder if you're edible.
Lick you like a lollipop?
Lil' Wayne, get it right-
I wanna suck on you like a popsicle-
don't worry, baby, I don't bite.
Well.. not unless you like that sort of thing-
if so, I'll start to nibble...
I'll work my way all over your body,
until you start to tremble.
I'll lick you up and down
until you can't take it anymore-
then you can have your way with me-
on the bed, the counter, the floor.
I like it how you like, baby-
just tell me what you need...
doesn't matter, fast and hard
or keep it slow and sweet.
We can go all night or just for a while-
who's keepin' track of time?
Don't think about anything else, boy,
cause tonight you're all mine.
I wanna be your porn superstar,
fulfill all your fantasies...
use that power that you possess
and bring out the lil' devil in me.

You're My Karma... For You

I've always heard that Karma's a bitch
and I've learned that the hard way so many times...
so you would think I would have known better
than to commit anymore karmic crimes.
But then that summer night you looked my way
and I wasn't sure why, but I knew it was wrong...
but the feel of your body dancing against mine
made me want time to stop to a never ending song.
The smell of your clothes, the heat of your skin,
your strong arms around me all night...
there was something about you that made me cautious
and yet the butterflies still took flight.
I tried so hard to turn you down
but your magnetism was too strong to resist...
and I knew I was wrong but I was hooked-
addicted upon first kiss.
So now you're my weakness, you're my addiction,
you're my pain... I have to make it through.
You're my payback- my heart is the fee ,
you're my karma for falling for you.

Gypsy Thoughts

My gypsy soul is getting restless-
I've been in a coma for thirty-one years.
My heart longs to get out of this town-
forget the past, the pain, the tears.
Let's follow some railroad tracks
just to see where they go.
Let's get into my car and drive non-stop
listening to the radio and the wind blow.
We don't need a suitcase
some duffle bags will have to do-
let's pack some stuff and get out of this state,
leaving behind all we've been through.
Maybe we could hop on a Greyhound bus
choosing our destination with a dart-
follow the lines drawn out on a map...
follow our dreams, and our hearts.
Let's get out of here and find ourselves
somewhere outside of this big little town-
let fate and destiny be our guide,
and stop letting our fears hold us down...
Come on, baby, run away with me-
let's make our own place in this world.
Say you'll be my gypsy man-
and run away with this gypsy girl.

Caged Bird Singing

Trapped.
Confined.
Suffocated.
Imprisoned.

Caged.


Do you ever get the urge to just run away from everything? To just sell or throw away everything you own and take off in whichever direction you choose just to see where the road goes?

I want to run away. Run away from this dead-end job. Run away from the boredom of Lexington. Run away from the norm. Run away from the things that haunt me. Run away from this life and start a new one.

I've been wracking my brain for what seems like forever- trying to figure out what is missing from my life and how to turn my life into what I want it to be. No conclusions have been come to and I'm still at a loss. I still have no idea where I want to be and what I want to be doing with my life. I'll be 31 years old in two weeks and I have nothing to show for my time on this planet. No family. No career. No adventures. I have been walking around like a zombie since I came into this world and I yearn to LIVE.

How do you do that when you're flat broke and drive a piece of shit car that you can't even depend on to take you across town? Does being poor confine us to a life of dreary days with nothing to look forward to? Whether I live the life of a gypsy for six months or not- I know one thing... I've got to do something, anything, before I lose my mind.


I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings
Maya Angelou


"The free bird leaps
on the back of the wind
and floats downstream
till the current ends
and dips his wings
in the orange sun rays
and dares to claim the sky.

But a bird that stalks
down his narrow cage
can seldom see through
his bars of rage
his wings are clipped and
his feet are tied
so he opens his throat to sing.

The caged bird sings
with fearful trill
of the things unknown
but longed for still
and is tune is heard
on the distant hill for the caged bird
sings of freedom

The free bird thinks of another breeze
and the trade winds soft through the sighing trees
and the fat worms waiting on a dawn-bright lawn
and he names the sky his own.

But a caged bird stands on the grave of dreams
his shadow shouts on a nightmare scream
his wings are clipped and his feet are tied
so he opens his throat to sing

The caged bird sings
with a fearful trill
of things unknown
but longed for still
and his tune is heard
on the distant hill
for the caged bird
sings of freedom."

Questioning Life

Who am I?
What do I want out of life?
What do I expect from love?
What do I expect from myself?

The questions that all of us have asked ourselves throughout our lives... mostly still unanswered. Does anyone ever have the answers? From what I see- the majority of the population struggles with that inner battle of the heart and mind, wandering the world searching for hints, signs as to what they want, who they are. Most of the time when we get what we think we want, we still wonder. When does the questioning end and the enjoyment of life begin?

Who am I?
I am a walking contradiction. I am the girl next door, yet can be quite a diva when things don't seem to be going my way. I am sweet as sugar, but pretty sour when crossed. I am affectionate and loving but need space. I am independent but still needy. I am proud and strong but on the inside I am still the little girl crying for help. I am 'one of the boys' but still cry at chick flicks and crave the fairytale romance. I am a cynic yet still gullible. I trust no one but I still have that blind faith that all humans are good. I am an optimistic pessimist, I expect the worst but still hope for the best. I am a whirlwind of emotion but can come across as a cold-hearted bitch. I fit no definition, I fall into more than one stereotype. There is no solid answer of who I am- yet I just wrote it. How do you see me? How do you see yourself?

What do I want out of life?
I want simplicity, comfort, love, happiness, and fun. I want a real, deep, committed, unconditional relationship. I want to have a successful marriage one day. I want a family. I want the "American dream". I want to be financially comfortable. I want to travel. I want to see things that inspire me and leave me in awe. I want to be respected and to finally be rid of the 'white trash' shadow that has haunted me my whole life. I want to be known. I want to live each day as if it were my last and I want the resources that allow me to do that. I want to stop feeling caged- to no longer be trapped in this town, in this apartment, in this life. I want to love. I want to live. I want to love living!

What do I expect from love?
Again- my expectations are a contradiction. I try to not expect anything yet I always hope for that fairytale. I want to be swept off my feet. I want to feel like a woman and not a toy. I want to be worshiped, respected, spoiled, loved. I need romance. I need surprises. I need to have my breath taken away every now and then. I want to be missed when I'm not there. I want to be thought of. I want to be irreplaceable. I want to be the girl who makes his eyes light up when I walk into the room. I want to be the one that puts the smile on his face. I want to be treated as if I'm the only woman on the planet. I want it all.

What do I expect from myself?
I keep telling myself I can do better than I am. I tell myself I deserve better than what I get. But on the inside I don't think I truly believe it. I settle for mediocre. Why? Is it because I feel I'm not worthy of the best? I ask myself every day why my life has turned out the way it has. And I know it's because I have not pushed myself to my potential. Yet when I think about trying I'm too scared to put any thoughts into action because I have no faith in myself. I don't think I'm smart enough, or strong enough, or good enough. How do we change self-destructive behavior? Do we have to find the root of it to begin to understand it? Is it possible to change?

There really is no point to this note... I just felt the need to write. So with that I shall end this note with a few quotes.

"Be patient toward all that is unsolved in your heart and try to love the questions themselves like locked rooms and like books that are written in a very foreign tongue. Do not now seek the answers, which cannot be given you because you would not be able to live them. And the point is, to live everything. Live the questions now. Perhaps you will find them gradually, without noticing it, and live along some distant day into the answer." ~ Rainer Maria Rilke, Letters to a Young Poet



"All men should strive to learn before they die
what they are running from, and to, and why."
~ James Thurber


"To the question of your life you are the answer, and to the problems of your life you are the solution." ~ Joe Cordare


"Not until we are lost do we begin to understand ourselves." ~ Henry David Thoreau


"Trying to define yourself is like trying to bite your own teeth." ~ Alan Watts


"We run away all the time to avoid coming face to face with ourselves." ~ Author Unknown


"Your distress about life might mean you have been living for the wrong reason, not that you have no reason for living." ~ Tom O'Connor


"Few people know so clearly what they want. Most people can't even think what to hope for when they throw a penny in a fountain." ~ Barbara Kingsolver, Animal Dreams


And my favorite- the one that is most inspirational to me right now...
"If you aren't sure who you are, you might as well work on who you want to be." ~ Robert Brault

Untitled (Writer's Block)

Don't look down upon me with disdain-
judgmental, cold eyes of steel...
seeking the weaknesses in my soul-
as if you're the devil waiting to make a deal.

Don't sit on your throne of contemptuous rage
belittling me for my faults...
knowing my unhappiness with myself-
you see the wounds and pour the salt.

Don't underestimate my intelligence
with your concealed insults and abuse.
I've toughened up over the years-
no longer breaking, I barely bruise.

Seventeen

4 a.m., alone again, in front of this old computer screen...
playing songs that take me back to the days of seventeen.
I was young and wild- the taste of freedom exciting & new...
didn't have a care in the world... and all I wanted was you.
I gave you my heart that winter, gave you my soul that spring...
you gave me a key to keep around my neck, years later you gave me a ring.
We promised each other forever, not knowing forever just wouldn't be-
and now I sit here so many years later, ghosts of the past still haunting me.
Real love has evaded me since you, true emotion I can't seem to find.
I've been told that I'm too guarded, they tell me my wall is too high.
No one even dares to climb it, they damn sure don't try to tear it down-
I guess they know that once they cross it, your ghost is still around.

Thin Line

I love the way you look at me,
I love the way you smell.
I love your grin and your bright eyes.

I hate you! Go to hell!


I love the way you laugh,
I love the way you say my name.
I love it when I hear from you.

Fuck you! Stop playing games!


I love how no one else exists to me,
I love that you're always on my mind.
I love the way you touch me.

I'm sick of wasting my fucking time!


I love your sense of humor.
I love your charm and wit.
I love that you're intelligent.

You're an asshole & I'm tired of your shit!


I love that you make me laugh.
I love that you turn me on so much.
I love that you give me butterflies.

I don't want to long for your touch!


I love that you can't stay away from me.
I love that I can't leave you alone.
I love when you sleep next to me.

Don't ever call me again, go home!!!


I love it that we just seem to fit together.
I love how I feel when I'm with you.
I love it that you won't admit you're jealous sometimes.

Leave me alone, I'm through!!!!


I hate your fucking guts
and yet I love your fucking face.
You're the one I fucking hate to love.

You're the one I love to fucking hate!

My Dream (RIP Ike Davis)

I had a dream last night
that you were still alive.
You were standing near me smiling
with a twinkle in your eyes.

You told me that you loved me
and I said I loved you too-
we embraced in a warm hug
and I told you how much I missed you.

You told me you were worried about me
because it was me that just got shot.
But I told you I was doing fine,
when in reality I'm not.

I told you I couldn't believe you were here
because you died so long ago,
but you said you hadn't really died-
you just had somewhere to go.

As we hugged one last time
I awoke to reality.
I looked around the room for you
but your face I did not see.

I realized it was just a dream
and that you were really gone-
my mind has understood this
but my heart just won't move on.

I still picture you at 13 years old
back when I saw you all the time-
and my heart always looks for you
although you are gone in my mind.

You were always my baby brother,
or least in my eyes-
and now when I remember those days
I can't help it but to cry.

I wish it could have stayed that way
and maybe you wouldn't be dead-
and I could see you again every day
and not just from the dreams in my head.