S.A.D.

Maybe my fears are what have come to tear us down
Such insecurities I've been wanting to overcome
I promised I wouldn't let them run this
But promises are meant to be broken I guess
I love you more than the sun itself
Must be what got me here
I should have stuck to what I knew
Being without you
I can't imagine anything without you though
I've got to get out of this head before I end up dead

Truths

Truth be told I love you.
I loved you.
I care about you.
I cared about you.
Here it is almost three in the morning and all I can think about is you.
How sick I am because of you.
But I don't have only you to blame.
Me look at me.
You look at her and then you look at me and it all makes sense
I sit and hope, and yes this may sound extremely bitter that you'll know what this feels like.
I cared so much about you in such a little amount of time.
She knows this.
And all I can think is I hope she considers this.
So now you want nothing to do with me because you want to pursue someone so much more beautiful than me.
I just want to forget all about me.
Because you didn't love me.

happiness.

When you've got happiness in hand there just is no time to write about that man.
Then he ripes all of that right out of your hand and here you are again.
Throwing these words up like it'll get you somewhere.
But all you really want is to be nowhere.
He just simply didn't care.
Couldn't care.
And you're the only one to blame.
How you love playing this blame game.
Such a shame. You aren't the best player at this game.

Fish

There is a heart sinking deep into a belly
Sinking how a ship sinks in the deepest sea
There is a head full of fish
Fish of thoughts and questions
Swimming faster than ever and screaming
Who knew fish could scream
They scream because they want to be fed
Fed the answers they seek
But for now those fish are getting ignored
In hopes they might just die
These things are newly consuming one soul
And all it took was one simple question
This soul knew at some point in time this question had to come
But the soul prayed it never would
And if it did come it would have been in a positive way
Soul had found someone who had made it forget
Forget about all the bad, good and lost ones

The Month Away From May

There had been one before you
One that had consumed many thoughts until that first conversation piece with you had started
Now she is hooked like a fish on the most experienced fishers line
Heart and head at moments are telling her the same things
Other moments head says, "Forget all these amazing feelings"
Heart is saying, "There is a reason for this great aching"
But you've got her on "Cloud Nine"
Which is such a plumetting high compared to wanting to be buried six feet under ground emotionally months ago
Here it is this month before May and she is questioning when it is you'll end up disappearing and going away
But this question only lingers in the moments when you are miles away

Distance

The mind can be ever so surprising.
I had thought I was starting to forget all about you.
Get rid of you.
Push you out of my memory.
I had been doing so great for so long.
Then today. A simple day.
There you were.
In my head.
I could've swore you were dead.
There had been moments were I willingly spoke of you.
And lately I had begun to feel nothing when speaking of you.
But today. God how today you made me feel everything without even doing anything.
Ruined such a good Sunday.
I was beginning to not even think of writing about you.
Writings of how I meant nothing to you.
Here I am again. Letting you consume all too much of my time.
Why can't I shake the slightest thought of you today.
Tomorrow I want you to be back in my head the way you had been the past few weeks.
When distant thoughts of you were better than any lusting thoughts of you
I just want to forget all about you now
That used to be the last thing I wanted to do
I am sick of being ruined by you
Consumed by you
I'm exhausted from these thoughts of you
Yet sleep is not insight.
And you should know I am all too over this fight.

Ship sail

All it took was a simple 200 mile journey.
A simple 200 mile journey that had been taken hundreds of times.
It wasn't until a convesation was struck with an important person that this journey made an impact for the girl blooming into a woman.
Two decades plus a year was when her roots started to make sense to her.
She had been struggling lately to understand friendships, hardships, and lack of ships setting sail.
The ships that didn't set sail were just ships that could not handle her steer.

The Haunt

Why is it that you are so haunting to me
You would think I would choose to do everything to distance you from me
But mentally you incase me
There is no escape
I try to not even have a single thought of you trace my mind every day
Every day there you are
Somedays, yes I have done it to myself
Other days like today you did it to me
But there are a few words that have me questioning why it is I am so distraught
What. Who. Why.
What: Is it that you even mean by one simple word and one simple piece of punctuation
Who: Is it that you are even directioning that to
Why: Is it that you just have to choose something so simple to say
I'd like to think you know how this appears to me
But you could careless about me
You didn't even know what you meant to me
Or at least you pretended you didn't
I am still questioning that these days when I think of you

Train

She needs the sounds of the train yards to get her by in this life.
The thought of brush strokes make her feel like puking. But the smell of paint is the sweetest fragrance for her.
The way that spray paint tickles her nose makes her dream harder than when she lays her head to rest.
Even if there are whistling trains in the background. She still dreams the hardest with a scent.
She dreams about all the artists she surrounded herself with.
She has always been one to lust for those that will never love.
And artists are always guilty of this. Their first love is always their expression.
In these dreams she recalls the happiest moments with some of these artists.
She didn't lust all of them physically. Mentally. Emotionally.
But one, she did fall in love with for all the wrong reasons.She shouldn't have ever done such a thing to begin with.
Said to be, Pure lust with all the fixings that follow.
That artist is gone now.

And that is why you find her needing train yard sounds.
Her only friends these days are the train yard guards.
Such an odd friendship.
She has to be toe to rail close with those passing train carts.
The key benefit of these new friends.

Eyes peeled wide waiting for the sight of the slightest unfamiliar paint splash.
Nostrils flared waiting for that scent.
Instead of lusting artists right in hand now she lusts the ones she'll never touch.
How many more experiences she gets all from simple carts traveling across the land.

But those experiences will never replace what those dreams of past hold.
How those dreams bring those artists back.
Especially the one that made brush strokes.
Brush strokes that made her smile the hardest.

Train **pre recreation**

She needs the sounds of the train yards to get her by in this life.
Although the thought of brush strokes make her feel like puking the smell of paint is the sweetest fragrance to her.
She loves standing toes edge against the rail and smelling the newest art encasing those train carts.
You see the way that spray paint tickles her nose it makes her dream harder than when she sleeps.
Dreams tangled with those she lusts for. Constantly lusting for those that will never love.
Artists mainly. Boy how she dreams about those artists she has surrounded herself with.
Dreaming, lusting, and loving those happiest moments experienced with one another.
Don't mistake this lust and love for just sexual attraction.
But there was one that she fell in love with for all the wrong reasons. She shouldn't have ever done such a thing to begin with.
Come and gone now.
With the most meaningful friends miles away now she is findinng herself seeking approval from maybe the oddest group.
The train yard guards.
They hold the key for her to stand toe to rail close when those carts roll in.
Eyes peeled wide open waiting for the newest hint of where these trains have been.
Even the slightest splash of unfamiliar colour gives her new hope.
Nose cleared so she can catch that sent.
Ears empty only in these moments so she can hear that whistle.
These steps make finding relationships with these unknown artists traveling this land so much more concrete.
Cause without paint, lust, love, and trains life just isn't complete.

**I had originally wrote this piece before "Train". I thought I had lost it and had tried recreating it to the best of my ability, but sometimes at 4:00am when you've lost something so amazing you can't manage to find those words again. Thank God I found them.