All I wanted was for you to be happy,
and now through the gates, I understand your thoughts,
processes like why you used to worry about me,
things piled up slowly,
trying to kill me,
but they couldn’t quite kick my habits.
I have had some bright news,
I write more often now,
sometimes I hate it though,
it reminds me of bunches.
Something inside of me is pushing to get out,
I have been clawing my secret way through an internal hell
clasped around a smile,
I have killed myself several times
to forget some communicated elements,
but I remember,
you were all I had
in the sore plateau of
love and happiness,
Sometimes, my deafening yell
hides a silent cry,
a little Norah Jones is just fine,
a little silence,
a little long run,
the lovely conversations between us,
It’s hard getting rid of places,
it’s a line I haven’t been able to cut,
like I am still messed up,
I asked for your forgiveness,
but I never understand why I do the things that I do,
I never understand the frantic one I am,
it’s like a big game.
Sometimes I am a little lost.
Sometimes I wish the broken didn’t crave the broken.
Sometimes I wish a new poem would not be needed
just to hear your voice,
it’s one of those nights,
I am sorry.
If only I could see myself from your eyes.