Sunday, November 21, 2010

Time

You see, life is like a VCR. We want to press play when laughter is surrounding us. We want to press pause when we’re making memories. We want to press stop when all we feel is pain, and we want to press rewind to go back to a time when all we were was happy. But you see… Here’s the thing. I can’t remember ever being able to find time, to rewind time. That was back when you were my lifeline and all I could do was forget time when I was with you.

This time, you’ve got my mind pregnant with ideas of old things past, and new things to come. You see, words seem to be the only thing separating me from what used to be, and no matter how hard I try, I can’t seem to shake this anomaly. This lame game that we seem to be playing acts as a ball and chain; it’s merely us going against the grain, yet it still manages to confine my mind, and leave me feeling as if time was never on my side.

And so we’ll see, time has been everything to me. My mind seems to think that the sublime between us is merely making me a prisoner of my own words. You see, if I had it my way, I would cover myself in your words like a blanket so that I don’t freeze to death. All this pain I feel is numbed when I’m standing here, reciting my thoughts. Poetry is my painkiller. While I’m covered I’ll have to keep in mind that words can only half reveal and half conceal the soul within.

So now, instead of feeling you press yourself up against me lazily in tangled sheets with clumsy morning kisses, I’ll feel you tell me all that you miss is those times when we could find the time to rewind time. Respecting you is me expecting you to believe in our dignity but, like you said before, love is just war on a battlefield. Time is just here to incline us to go faster. But I say let’s go slow. Let’s not pause or rewind or stop let’s press play; let’s go.

Wednesday, July 7, 2010

Gasoline.

Fill my heart, fall asleep to it's beat.
Sing to my music, dance to the melodies.
Build me with your words, and watch me crumble.

You're the gasoline that puts out my fire.
You're the fight in me that breaks my balance of pain.
I'm the one letting you graze my cheek, filling it with your lips.

Push me into your gravity.
Show me the way of your charm and grace.
Show me your heart and your mind; your imagination and authority.

Impress my memories.

Monday, June 28, 2010

Balance

The fight for you is all I've known for a long while. I mean that in such terms that a 'long while' is long enough to the point where I don't want to start over with anybody else, nor do I have the stability to even think about trying. I'll be up front with you about this: you hurt me. You don't know you did, nor do you think that anything wrong-doing occurred, but you still hurt me. More than you know. More than you'll want to comprehend. Before I go blaming you for everything, please know that I am sorry. Please know that I am truly sorry for yelling. I shouldn't raise my voice to you; you don't deserve it. I need to control my feelings better. But on the flip side of that, I'm still hurt. There is still a void that I walk around with; still an empty space that is present in my head and my heart. I let it go. I let my feelings being hurt go for the better sake of us, mind you all I want is you. But you hurt me on a level that leaves me hanging in my own balance. Every time that I think about it my heart wants to hurt, just to have a feeling that reminds me what hurting really is. I know that a promise doesn't mean much anymore, and this will never be alright with me. I sing a tune to the beat of my own heart, and you sing your as well. Can we sing each others instead?

Your happiness is something that I look for everyday. I know that you don't need 3 dozen roses or the world handed to you on a golden-crested platter, and I know that sometimes you don't like me for your own reasons, however, I care enough to try my best to give those things to you. Granted, if I could actually give you the world on a platter, you would already have it.

I know I don't make you happy on a regular basis, but you make me happy everyday. Even being able to hear from you makes me happy. Nothing is certain; not one thing is guaranteed in this life. But one thing I can tell you is that you make me smile, probably more than anything I've ever seen. Bear in mind that sometimes you make me feel like shit for wanting effort from you in this relationship. Bear in mind that sometimes we don't get along and that you sometimes take me for granted whether you know it or not. Bear in mind that I do my best for you to just notice me sometimes. No matter what is going on in my life or how crazy or hectic things get, I always make time for you. I always make time for us. I want to because seeing you makes me happy. I want to because you get happy too.

I guess what I'm trying to say out of all of this is that I love you. You hurt me but I still love you. Nothing will make me stop loving you. Saying goodbye was one of the worse things that I've encountered, and keep in mind that I've heard it before, so I should be a pro at handling by now. But you know what? I'm not. I won't ever be. I'll still fold every time. Keeping me hanging in suspense isn't what I want.

I have a wish. Just one wish that has been there for a long while. I wish that you would pour your heart out. Dump it right on top of me for once; don't be afraid, I won't drown. It won't hurt me like you think it will.

Try me.

Flame

Looking back at what has happened and what used to be as opposed to what is, I see a ton of feelings that were used in one big learning experience. Love was lost, and thoughts were reused to the point in which they all became routine. My head spun. All I wanted was a happy ending; a better life only if you were with me. All I wanted was for you to sing me to sleep. I had tried for way too long to try and be the perfect song, when our hearts are heavy burdens that we shouldn’t have to bear alone. So I let you bear mine and you rejected it. Picking up, my heart was something you played with like a toy. But now? I’m new. I’ve found myself, and I’ve found another being who loves me for me, not what they want me to act like. I’ve found the only light I’ll ever see. A new fire that wears my heart whenever I need to hang it up for a while.

Wednesday, May 26, 2010

Why I'm Home.

Sitting here with nothing but my imagination to control me...

"I'm falling apart, so leave me here forever in the dark."

Nothing left of me, nothing left of you.
Nothing left to fight for.
Nothing except you and I, my hands full of love, your hands full of pain.
Crystal glasses half-broken, coming undone at their own fragile seams; nothing can stop me from making you fall from your own breath.

Give me a sign. Give me the strength to conquer you and your world full of bottled up thoughts. Give me the power to turn your mouth into a slide, allowing every word that forms in your head to slip right out and fill my ears.

I can see you starting to drift. I can see you starting to fall away from me. Just like you said that dark night, when you were crying, doing your best to keep from me your emotions. That night when you finally had enough and burst into tears to release yourself from your own grip and slip into mine. You were right. Your grip is slipping, faster each day. I haven't any clue as to how to stop. I can only squeeze so hard before you fall through my hand.
Stop.
Listen.
Breathe. In and out.
Look at me; into my eyes.

I'm here for you. All of my being is you. I have so many things of you, for you, and with you. Photographs with tears running down them, writings that were left undone because of my burning eyes, slipping into dreams of stars and moons following us together. I was never me without you. Memories of you flood me; consume me. Gorgeous lines of glowing smiles and lost marathons full of rushed thoughts are starting to define me. I'm showing you all of my cards, giving you my heart. There could be a million people surrounding me, and you're the only thing on my mind.
After all of the painted pictures, all of the tales of every song, all of the quoted poetry, all of me showing you who you are to me, both of us falling somewhere faster, just like Jason says, we both can rise from the ashes and be the phoenix that we were meant to be.

In your times of struggle, look into me. Show me the fire burning in your heart, and I'll show you the fire burning on my lips. Let go of your fear, and I'll let my words disappear. I'll hold you close, even when your world falls apart.

Even 50 years from now, I'll still be with you. In your heart; and you'll be in mine.

Even when we are old and falling apart, I'll still throw my penny in the wishing well and wish for you.

Because in the end?

In the end, you're still the reason why I'm home.

Monday, May 3, 2010

sdkfljghrdflbh.

Letters on a page; letters that don't even make any sense. No words form to make out any understanding of the letters in my head. My mind is falling into a shining darkness - no words make any sense. No form of logical understanding can run through my head anymore. I've given all of my energy and time to my words that have no meaning. My eyes tell my truths of trust and harnessed belief. My head explodes as I race from one side to the other, in my mind, swimming through the soundless expressions as if they were seaweed. All of this time is spent shaking through something for a sign of a trigger. A trigger that will act as a dominoe effect upon itself and trickle it's way down a stream of broken words. A trigger that will give way to a motion for action. How pathetic of myself to sit here and allow myself to go unnoticed. As my thoughts reach the brim of the tamed mind, I can't help but wonder when it will surely spill over into a world of pain and hurt. As I lay by my own self, my broken thoughts splatter onto my forehead, running down slowly for everyone to see.

Broken words full of letter that don't fit together sensibly begin to flow out of my head, leaving no time to recover, decimating my movements. When someone offers me a penny for my thoughts, all I can give them is the remnants of what is dried up. The colorless expressions of limelight, in a far away distance, signal that they are on their way to salvation.

I'm left alone here, staring at a page that has captured my emotions. My thoughts are running into you. In a world full of hatred and pain, I notice one beam of light. Happiness ensues. I'm far away from that.

Maybe one day, we can get there. Together.

Friday, April 23, 2010

Word of Mouth.

On the verge of my freshman year at Oakland University coming to an end, I would like to take the time to just reflect upon the year. Without any bit of exaggeration, this has probably been the biggest, most valuable time for me as an individual. I've learned so much, just from being here. It's really been an amazing time for me, to say the least. People say that the relationships you make in college turn out to be the longest lasting ones. I can truly say that I've made more relationships in college than in high school; ones that will last longer than any other ones I've made, most likely. I'll still have those really close friends from back home, but in the end, the relationships I make in college will really prove to be the best.

To further expound on this subject, there has been one thing at Oakland University that has proved to be one of the things that has helped me make really great relationships with people. That thing is Word of Mouth (Open Mic). Word of Mouth is a place to open up and allow people to saturate your presence and spiritual being, even if that isn't what you're intending to do when you perform. You can get up and play music of any genre, or you can make people laugh. You can basically just speak your mind and not really worry about anything because the people there know that everyone is different and they accept you for who you are. That kind of environment is one that engages my mind on one of the highest levels.

Throughout the year, I've sat in the front of Word of Mouth, and I've watched people get up and pour their souls out in front of anybody who is willing to listen. I've been one to listen every single time. I don't take people for granted. Every person that goes up there has a story to tell. Every story has a theme or motif, so to speak. Anybody who gets up and sings; anyone that gets up and has the courage to speak their souls away, those are the ones who I cannot get enough of. Especially if they captivate me. I'm the kind of person who loves to be inspired. It's probably one of the greatest feelings in the world; most definitely my favorite feeling. Every Thursday night at OU, I become inspired. Just being in a spiritual advising session, in a way, makes me want to write and write and write.

Everyone that gets up and inspires me, every Thursday, those are the people that give me a reason to believe in inspiration. Believe it or not, inspiration is something that can make someone feel great; it can get someone through rough times, and no matter the situation, it always provides a better way to express yourself, no matter what.

Word of Mouth is my favorite part of OU. The people there are amazing. The relationships started and built up over the past eight months have been ones that I hope to have for the rest of my life. Everyone there, no matter where they come from, or what they have to say, cares. They respect you and your ideas or theories. That's more that what I could ever ask for in people. More than anything, I love to meet new people and make new friendships. Nothing will ever take that spot in my heart.

None of that would be possible if people didn't go up and pour their imagination, talents, and heart out into their expressions. None of this would be possible if people didn't give their all in running the program for people who come to be inspired.

Most of all, none of this would be possible if people's minds weren't engaged. One thing I can say about all of this is, I know five or ten years from now, I can look back and realize all of the fun I've had, and all of the experiences I've been through will all fit together as one. I can look back and see happiness; a time for spiritual healing and rejoicing. A time, my friends, that I can look back and say, "Those were the best kind of days."

And then I'll smile.

Sunday, March 21, 2010

Words.

Words. They're all I have to give anymore. Words that form me. Words that define what I am. Words that describe what I have to give. Words that come from my soul. Words that come from my heart. Inevitably, words that mean nothing to you.

That's really all I have to give anymore. Words. Some that show you how I care; some that don't. Words that come out of my mouth and tell you what's on my mind and in my heart. Words that will be the death of me, and words that will keep me hanging on by a thread. Words of amazing inspiration and my theoretical mind making things unique.

Words.

I can't go much longer knowing that my words don't mean anything to you. I can't live with knowing that I'm the reason that you think I lie; that my words are false. I remain calm now - no need to get worked up for no reason anymore. The more I fight it, it seems, the more you shy away from believing in my words ever again. You look past things because you love me, but deep down, you don't believe me.

It kills me to know that you're hurt.
Every single day, I sit with myself knowing that you deserve someone that you can trust; someone that you can believe in. That someone, to you, isn't me. As much as you love me, you don't desire to believe me. My words of emotion have poured out and they haven't been caught. They've lied on the ground and looked up for someone to pick them up, one by one, even. No suitable takers anymore, Robbie. No more people to pick them up. No more of people believing in you. In this time, I have to believe in myself, and it's been extremely hard to do. I've already had inner problems. Ones that haven't went away, obviously. My mind has distorted my own image of myself. I can't actually see myself anymore. My words can't actually form a meaning without someone there choosing to believe in them. Without that, my words are nothing. Just as helpless as the last thing that went out of date.
Just as helpless as the old Robbie.

Just as helpless as you are when you try to believe me.

I've never given you a reason not to, but you just don't believe me.
I guess that's what I get.
That's what I get for giving you everything I have.
That's what I get for showing you that you deserve better than what you were getting.
That's exactly what I get for giving you every reason to love me, and meaning it.

That's what I get for loving you.
For loving everything about you.
Every little thing.
That's what I get.

Sunday, March 7, 2010

My Repose.

Sometimes I wish I could sleep until the pain went away. I wish I could sleep; one of those long, hard, uninterrupted sleeps just to get the feeling out of my head for a while. Sleeping would allow me to forget about all of the stress, all of the heartache, all of the confusion and loss. It would all be gone. Sleeping would allow me to forget about time. Time in which everyone else sees it would be like the raindrops on a window. It would all run down and eventually fall into empty space. I want to sleep so that I don't have to hear your voice scold me. God knows I've tried to make you see just how much you mean to me, but something tells me that the deed isn't done in the same context.
I would sleep so that my heart wouldn't break. It's been held together by another human being, and shattered all the same. This is why I'm so reluctant to give people chances anymore. I can't bear to hurt anymore. Sleeping would make it go away. The broken heart is a hard thing to mend, especially if yours is broken. I would sleep so that the sound of my grandmother crying every time I leave home wouldn't play in my head, nor my heart anymore. It absolutely crushes me to hear her cry like that. I get all choked up when I hear her crying and when I feel her clutch me. She most certainly a big part of me. She's getting old now. It worries me to leave because I don't want it to be the last time I see her again. My world would break if I lost her.
I would rest so that I couldn't feel anymore. No more feelings of sorrow or depression would ring through me. No more thoughts would fill my head of you leaving me. No more thoughts of you dropping me and leaving me for something better out there. I know it comes to everybody's head every once in a while at least: the thought of your loved one leaving you behind. I trust that this wouldn't happen to me. I'm going with my heart.
I would sleep to numb myself.
To avoid seeing you hurt.
I would sleep to sleep. To not awake just yet.
I would sleep to let go.
I would wake up with a broken heart all along.
I can't avoid it.
I'd sleep with a broken heart.
None of this makes sense.

Tuesday, January 12, 2010

Leaving Me

“Don’t leave me. Don’t go. Please don’t do this to me. Don’t leave me behind. Don’t let me fall.”

I could write a thousand words without meanings of saving me, yet you’d still go. I could hurdle mountains of honesty that you throw at me, yet I’d still be right here. Leaving me without notice; without written paragraphs and lines of reasons, that’s no reason to leave me. Sitting alone in darkness for days on end won’t fix this. Allowing things to get worse won’t either. Memories of you are emblazoned into my head; dripping from it a small truth that losing you is scary. Losing you is beyond my fathomable mind. I can’t allow it to happen. I’ll let you go first. I’ll take you on a ride to the moon where we can count the stars in lines of shining rays, glistening in your eyes. I’ll put that smile upon your face and make time lose its worth. Imaginary lines of division will lose themselves in colors of purity and safety as you blink. I’ll trace over them. We can sing melodies of dreams; lullabies of God’s hope etched onto your skin like insignias. Purposeful meanings of love will brush your face as I go above and beyond what a promise really means. Representations of happiness will fly to your fingertips and change your life as you know it. Leaving me isn’t your counter to my scarce ‘I love yous’. The question of whether it’s right or not will hold no meaning to my mind as I leap into perspectives of a million ladybugs, scattering about. Even when faded dreams are illogical losing you is still far from optional. So please. Don’t go. Don’t let go of me; of who I am. Don’t let go of memories that will stick with you forever. Don’t let go of forever.

Unless you have to.

Currently listening to:
“I can live without you but without you I’ll be miserable at best.” –Mayday Parade – Miserable At Best