i'm glad :)

i'm glad i'm not there anymore

i'm glad to have erased all evidence

i'm glad i've moved on and away

i'm glad to be here

i'm glad to have this

i'm glad to look forward again

i'm glad i don't feel anything

i'm glad you're not in my head anymore

i'm glad it's over

i'm glad to be rid of you

i'm glad for no more tears

i'm glad for myself

Still Packed

It's been a week and hardly anything except for some souvenirs have left my luggage.
The idea of taking things out makes me feel as if I'd be unpacking the last 6 months.
I can't stop thinking and talking about Europe because it's what helps me believe that it wasn't just a dream.
I feel like my aging dog. Locked up in a cage of comfort.
I'm in a place I know so well yet it feels more foreign than any place I've ever been.
I know now more than ever, this is not where I belong. This is where I'm too comfortable and idle.
I feel like an enigma. One moment I'm content and glad I'm back. The next I'm depressed and feel caged.
I used to get a feeling when I was younger that there was something that felt like I had a hole in my being. I felt incomplete and stuck. I felt as if where I was wasn't real and I was watching my life go by as it followed the pattern and all the rules.
Now I feel that same hole. Only I feel more lost then ever. Where that hole was filled by the self-realization of the need for adventure, love, and change, now it's empty because I feel as if I've accomplished all that and lost my direction in life.
I had an idea of where I wanted to end up, but now, more than ever, I want to do too many things at once to the point where I'm lost.
I don't know what I want to do, where I want to go, or who I want to be.
I just know I want out fast and to get rid of these feelings of longing because it just hurts too much. There are only so many shows and movies I can watch to escape this reality.
My heavy heart is still packed away in those suitcases, help me unpack.

I'm not here

I'm not here where I am.

I see what's familiar, yet it's foreign.

I feel the same as before, but am so very different.

Life goes on, but I'm gone.

My heart is in your embrace. My soul is in your kiss. My mind is where you are.

I must ignore this and remember what I signed up for.

I must remind myself my sin and sacrifice.

My heart is not yours to hold. My soul is not for you to take. My mind is my own.

And I am independent from anyone else.

I am me. You are you.

I am where I have to be and so are you.

It wasn't meant to be.

This is the reality. I will erase what we had from my memory and live on the life I chose.

why?

Why is it that whenever something big happens things keep popping up everywhere that seem to relate? such as the music video your friend shows you that is pretty much about you at the moment. or the song that comes on that is telling you what you should do. or someone else's blog that's describing the very thing you've just done.

I've done something i'm not proud of, yet it made me feel so happy. Is this what the religious world calls a sin? All technicalities say it's fine, but my heart says otherwise. Why did what happen happen? Why is it that in some way i get what i want but it's not always what i should have had?

The Wave

If I die too young it would be too late

If I lived too long it would be too bad

Every morning I wake up to a new beginning

Every day I embrace a new adventure

The world I live in is my own

The world I live in is not my own

Some people see me as small

Some people see my big heart

By day I walk

By night I run

With the winter I work

With the summer I play

Inside these walls is self-discovery

Outside these walls is the unknown

Yesterday we ran

Today we jumped

Tomorrow we fly

But whatever I do, Whatever I say

I am

We are

I hate how i feel right now!

I despise you.

I despise myself.

I despise what we had.

I wish there wasn't ever a WE... oh wait there wasn't it was always YOU! FUCK YOU!

(no-title..yet)

I sing these songs for what I cannot say

So I fight these words

to keep the red a' bay.

The crimson hides behind these clouds,

and in the woods

thee purest shrouds.

But for what is thine reason for this mist?

The simplest counter

commenced, The kiss.

Maybe the pit, bitten many a times,

was bruised of the pangs of wretched teeth,

Or too many cuts by the sharpest knives.

You're gleaming a sharp lure

To the point where

Of a pattern sure.

These rivers flow fast down whilst

I drown burnt out

From this tight-ass gown.

Revive that flame

Save the night

Bring in the day

and Show the life within.