I cannot forgive you.
I cannot go back to the way things were.
The times has change, but the hurt still feels the same.
The disaster that you reign lives within my veins.
The blood that pumps the heart that you love to break.
Not realizing that you do it almost every day.
I still come back to you and try to make it to another day.
This time I stayed, but tomorrow will never be the same.
The journey of love and life is one that you must obtain.
Then I see your face, and I am reminded of the hurt that you bring.
The sad thing is that you will never go away.
The mirror tells no lies for what is in holds all my pain.
What do you see when you look at me?
Do you see the sense of hurt that hangs from my sleeve?
Do you see the lust of worries that stares deep in my eyes?
Do you see the mounting of stress that makes me not breathe?
The things that look good no longer feels or see me.
The thought of being a person that no one can see is becoming attractive to the eye.
Living in a place that brings no hope for the day.
The things that make you smile now bring the tears down the eyes.
When you see me are you seeing me?
Are you seeing the person that I want you to, see?
Think before you speak, this book cover is not what you think.
A podcast that I am listening to lately is an oldie but goodie, at least I think it is. The Daily from The New York Times has some great stories I found out. This podcast has been a bright light for me the last couple of days. There has been so much going on, that this has been a welcome distraction. Listening to these stories has showed me a new light. I have only listened to a hand full of episodes so I cannot say much about it. More to come and I believe that it will be worth the download.
This is just the start of something I am working on at the moment.
The day is here, and it is time to get moving. The sun is peaking through the busted curtain on Jason room. Clothes are scattered all over and Jason is still laying on the bed, he looks at the alarm clock as sees that it is 7:02 and he thinks he can sleep another two minutes, but then he hears a knock on the door.
“Jay, get up it is time to go to school, you do not need to be late.”
“Mom could you please give me three more minutes.”
“Boy get it you only have a week left get up.”