this is for someone out there who needs it, because i don’t anymore - i was never serious about this idiot anyway haha.

i used to love the idea of us

the promise of calm spring days ahead

to invest time into love & trust.

.

there was a time when i felt i must

on your shoulder rest my heavy head  

i used to love the idea of us.

.

hindsight presents me as a fool, thus

as the hands on the clock are read

to invest time into love & trust,

.

now weaker from the abuse of trust

something has ruptured, the calm is dead

i used to love the idea of us.

.

merciless traitor, you masked your lust

pretending your blood only runs red

to invest time into love & trust.

.

i am left disillusioned & crushed

while through bullshit she still is lead

i used to love the idea of us

to invest time into love & trust.

villanelle

i’m choosing to share this as a shoutout to a great poet who doesn’t appreciate herself enough. 

A Spin-Off of Hamlet’s Suicide Soliloquy

To hear or not to hear – That is the question:

When one allows his ear open to all

That is music and that is noise. From above

Wondrous and true songs we admire, yet

5.       From below gravity pulls at our hearts.

There is immense wonder in the thick dark.

Where from must they come, sounds that compose lives,

Which to know, which to love, and which to despise?

We hear the bird sing and realize it pure,

10.   From where cometh screams we are not as sure.

Put trust in warm whispers that lead us home

Or follow the echoes of distant unknown?

Nothing tugs strings of the beating organ

Harder than who has tied down them again

15.   And when the first snaps, ringing of freedom

We aren’t so ready to seize what we’ve won.

So they start to break, no grace of the harp

That proclaims Day’s triumph over the dark

As our legs carry us down this new path

20.   Our ears turn our eyes, which start to gaze back –

Is it betrayal or new adventure?

The protests from home make our quest unsure.

For some, it is fate, for us it is choice.

We set out to seek this peculiar voice –

25.   But difficult is the choice we have made

To hear with one ear, the other hath strayed.

A clean slate we have awarded ourselves

Yet these old books, moved, leave dust on the shelves,

The dust swirls around us and blurs the way

30.   To turn back now, or push through and away?

The trumpet call sounds, the great Reveille

It comes from both ends, to which do we stand

Or choose to close both ears with head in hands?

(Source: messylifestyle)

it's not your decision to maketo skip out on the future i have planned for us

so much for being happy…

i guess i'm still happy

duh. at least i know i’m going somewhere… :P

who cares

i love the holidays

happy thanksgiving