Ghost Race, Time and PlaceMaybe we'll all die before we get home,
On the drive to where we belong, or to where we actually want to be.
In the end we'll all be ghosts with no place left to go.
Why The Date Is Written At The Top Of The Page2014 was the year I thought I figured it all out;
Why everything happens the way it does,
Why everything still hurts the way it always used to,
Why I was never good enough for anyone,
But especially you. Father, mother, sister, brother, cousin, lover, friend,and especially you.
In 2013 I started burning my lungs, started drowning myself in chemistry.
Started throwing myself into the arms of whomever would take me,
Whomever would give me just a little reprieve,
Just an ounce of "Please stay, don't leave.".
But I'd left long before and that version of me would never come back.
This is "ME 2.0", a fallen branch in the river,
Going with the flow of late nights and heart breaks, "I love you"'s and terrible mistakes.
In 2012 I learned that those who tell you they love you very rarely do.
They just want whatever they can get out of you without getting hurt in return.
They want you to waste all you have to give on people like them.
They thrive on knowing that they can take what they want,
Walking AloneWe are all walking this world alone,
Within our own minds, we roam the streets.
Some are searching for home, but this, this is our home.
We are wandering, lost within ourselves.
We are wandering, lost, trying to find ourselves.
But the streets of our thoughts are where we make our beds.
This is who we are. We are what we know.
We are what we think, feel, love, hurt, and cry.
We are the bits and pieces of the things we see and do.
You are the tears of your your mother,
The kindness of a stranger, the smile of a child.
But most of all, you are who you become while you're lost within yourself.
No Fear of Failure or FallShe flew over me into the clear spring sky,
Wing tips outstretched, appearing to grace
The very tips of the trees with her light caress.
And the bent and swayed in the soft breeze of her wake.
I felt her presence in the afternoon light
And looked to see her flying high
With no cares of the world upon her back,
Only the strong will could be seen in her eagle eyes.
No sound could be heard, no whisper or shrill.
In silence she flew with her eagle wings,
She looked neither up or down just straight ahead.
Higher and higher she flew, with no fear of any fearful thing.
Like a mirage she was gone, with no backward glance,
Just forward motion and freedom of spirit;
The world is hers to do with what she will.
Flying to such a great height with her eagle wings, she can think of no reason to fear it.
This Is My LifeThis is not my life.
This heavy thing that trails behind me
Like a broken sail in the middle of the god damn ocean,
But this is not my sinking ship.
This life is not my life.
This storm is fueled by hurt and tears, it washes on deck,
It will not wreck me, it will not sink the unsinkable;
Because this is not my ship wreck.
This is not my voice on the wind,
It's just the wind howling, it's not my scream. Not today.
My throat is just sore from the salty tang of the air,
Surely my eyes are wet from ocean spray.
My feet will never slip over board.
I have perfect fucking balance, I will never fall.
This is not the wind rushing past my ears as I am flung from my chair,
It's just the roar of my own courage as I stand tall.
This is not my life.
This water that surrounds me now is just your embrace,
These bubbles that escape from my lips are just daydreams of your kiss.
I'm not fucking drowning, that's not the case.
This is not the darkness,
It's only the absence of light. Nothing is wron