I’m not good enough to make you not afraid of all of those things. I knew it was true….
The simplicity in which the smallest things,
Are able to bring the greatest joy.
A good morning text,
A kiss on the cheek.
Why can’t that simplicity be extended to those that matter to you the most?
I don’t want to do this anymore. I can’t. It hurts far too much.
I wake every morning knowing of the deeds that I must do,
In an attempt to uphold my place with you,
Yet I know I can’t ever fill the shoe,
In which he has left.
In which he has left,
Is the feeling of blissful ignorance,
The feeling of unbridled youthfulness in which everything is perfect,
Yet I could never be…
The same things you would extend to him without another thought,
Leave you terrified and broken when asked for,
The pain inside is real,
Because I know I will never be…
that you can see it in the slow movement of
the hands of a clock.
people so tired
either by love or no love.
people just are not good to each other
one on one.
the rich are not good to the rich
the poor are not good to the poor.
we are afraid.
our educational system tells us
that we can all be
it hasn’t told us
about the gutters
or the suicides.
or the terror of one person
aching in one place
to watering a plant."