Not Quite Yet

Not Quite Yet

It's in the darkest of times
That the brightest of lights shine

It's when one is lost deepest to the darkness
That his friends cry out the loudest

Believe in those bright lights
And follow those voices home
In the open arms of the ones who care the most
You will have once again found hope

You will not have found your solution
A truth found solely in introspection
But before drifting too far off in meditations
Return home for alleviation

Searching for truth is one's personal responsibility
But there is no weakness, no failure
In finding strength and respite
Thanks to the help of others

You matter
And your problems matter too

You are loved
And your heart loves too

To you
My friends, my family, my heart and hope
I say thank you for being the light in the darkness

Breathing

Breathing

I want to feel again
To dream again
Believe again

Again

Again I fall short
Outside of what could be
Entrenched strictly within

Within the lungs
Of the man in the maze
That loses breath
With every exhale

Inhaling does not
Return the breath from its escape
Inhaling brings in only
New air to waste

You can never regain
What you cut loose

It may return to you
But at the point

The choice is never yours

Finished

Finished

Can my fellow broken
Hear me now
Feel me now
Be here with me now

Can you see
What I have to say

I am a pile
Of broken pieces
Held together
By a makeshift bond

I do not stand
I crawl
Scraping at the ground beneath
Clawing into the surface
The same way I gouge out my eyes
Digging for that last tear
To use as my final effort
To bond my decaying remains

What could it be
That drives what's left of me
To scrape by one more time
To survive one more day

Some would say it's belief
But I no longer believe

Some would say it's a strength I don't know I have
But whatever strength I've ever shown was only for show

Faking it
Until I make it

Faking it
Until I make it

Faking it
Until I make it

How much of me must be lost
To succeed in going from faking it
To making it

Is such success even certain
Can making it be earned
By effort alone

Is the finish line reserved
For those who are still standing
When they cross it?

Adulting: Disillusionment At Its Finest

Adulting: Disillusionment At Its Finest

One may think
Time is a thief
It inevitably steals
All semblance of hope

Eventually a child
Becomes an adult

Eventually all hope
Is lost

A life once lived
In hope and faith
Becomes a life lost
To the all too true

Time is no thief
Time is a conqueror
With infinite victories
A forever perfect fight record

Our lives
Despite noble efforts
Are merely collateral damage
In this fight

Between what is
Was
And will be