Poem: I

I did it again.

I let something that I wanted go.

I waited too long to make the move.

I am not doing my job, but what exactly is my job.

Is it to live free and do what is right?

Is it to be carful and worry about everything that you come your way?

Is this me or am I letting it go to my head.

I am not good at this.

I can never see the light when it is blinding my face.

I only see the dark for it is my true self.

I am my own worst enemy, yet I do not like me.

I do not know me.

I guess that is just me.

I run from my dream, and I walk to my mistakes.

I guess that is why I am me.


Poem: Love?

What is this pain?

The one where it hurts to look up.

Where it seems as if the sun is always shinning in your face.

This pain hurts like no other.

 The knife in the hand wilt the blood dripping on the floor, yet I am numb to it all.

The thought that this is me and there is nothing I can do to change it.

This is one is serious, and yet it is one that moves me like the wind move the leaves.

Is this real life or am I dreaming?

The thought of losing something that you never knew you could have.

What is going on with me?

Could I be in love?

Could I be losing my love?