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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.