All I Needed From You

It gave me a second thought,
About all the trivial things over which we fought.
It made me look past the guise,
Of what I was struggling through on the inside.
It provided me with clarity,
Over the things I once lacked to see.

Since we would fight so much that I barely remember,
The moments when we were actually growing together,
In the ways that we did not want to face,
And over manners which we normally refuse to contemplate.
Our relationship forced me to be true,
To the things that I had the audacity to pursue,
Since you always questioned my choice,
Despite knowing that I believed in my own voice.

You wanted what was best for me,
And that is something at the time I refused to believe.
Since you were perceived as cruel and abusive,
And I had many reasons to refuse this,
Life that you had laid out for me in the belief,
That is was the best thing for me.

I was angry and felt misunderstood,
And claimed that you had no idea what I was going through.
I was irrational and emotional,
Yelling at you about things over which you had no control.
I was ungrateful and disappointed,
That my life and goals were so disjointed.

I decided that you would have no say in what I do,
And that you have no understanding for what I wanted to pursue.
I decided that we would never see eye to eye,
Since it was something I was not willing to try.
I wanted to fight with you,
Since it was the one thing I could do,
To express my disappointment in me,
And all the things you once believed me to be.

I proved to be a different person than you had hoped,
And I yelled words I should have never spoke.
But it brought us to a place of understanding,
Since we both have personalities that are incredibly demanding.
We stand strong in our beliefs,
And now there are no secrets that we keep.
Since we have both learned to move on,
And embrace each other before we are gone.

This life can change instantly and without permission,
Until we no longer realize what we are missing.
And I no longer want to miss you,
Or the influence you could contribute to,
My growth and understanding of this life,
And a way to survive through all of the strife.

I now crave your voice and your embrace,
Now that I have even more in life to contemplate.
I now respect all that you had to do,
In order to provide me with the life you wanted too.
I now miss you influence,
In my pursuit of thoughtlessness.

But yesterday I was reminded,
Of all that ways in which I was blinded,
When I was growing up with you,
And fighting everything you wanted me to do.
When I did not attempt to see,
Everything in which you believed me to be.
When I took you for granted,
And I wanted more than what I was handed.
When I thought you were the last person on earth,
Who I wanted to give me birth.

But now I see my luck for what it is,
An attempt at generational bliss,
Where you worked hard to correct the mistakes of your mother,
And provide me with another,
Kind of life in which you would find no disappointment,
And the kind of woman in who you would find enjoyment.

So thank you for all that you did,
And thank you for all that you do,
Because I know that if there is one thing that is true,
It is that there is so much love shared between me and you.


I Am Not An Artist

Are you an artist?
This question was posed to me,
With a slight tone of disbelief.
No I am not.
I responded without a second thought.
I am your employee,
Isn’t that plain to see?
If I were an artist I would not need this,
And if I were paid for my art I wouldn’t dismiss it.
What a pretentious claim to make,
That I have skills on which I am not willing to relate.
Why would I be here?
If I were skilled enough to be elsewhere,
Making a living on what I can honestly bear.
And who am I to deem me as such?
To give myself a title that I feel I cannot touch.
Who is the person with such authority?
Who can say I possess professional artistry.
How would I know that I obtained such status?
When this is something I have always practiced.
I did not wake up and decide to claim,
That I have skills for which one day I will be paid.
Since money is the defining factor for me,
Between a hope and a true belief.
Without the pay this is just another hobby,
And without a way to prove my worth I am just being snobby.
So for now I am just another manager,
Without a sufficient claim to make this tangible.
For now I will continue to write,
And hope that one day I might end this fight,
Over what skills I am willing to claim,
And what title I can display.
I am not an artist,
But I am not a devoid of this,
Ability to think freely,
And hope that one day I will be set free.

Happy Birthday

This one is for you and all that you’ve been through.
This is to applaud the years you have covered,
And this is to celebrate the truths you have discovered.
This is meant to encourage you to be true,
To the person you have fought to pursue —
A self-proclaimed nerd and player of Magic,
And someone who has learned different tactics,
To make life interesting and continue impressing,
The simple minds that surround you at times.
Yet you don’t talk down to those with less intelligence,
And you don’t show off your abilities with much relish,
Since it has taken you years to brandish your thoughts,
And there is so much more that you were taught,
By yourself with determination and patience,
And a forgiveness that I wish I was born with.
You are kind and understanding,
Albeit less demanding than anything you have been handed.
You are strong and determined,
To live a life that was previously unheard of,
Where you embrace the person you are,
And you wear proudly your previous scars.
Since there is so much to be learned from you,
And so much more in this life for you to do.
I wish for you celebrate,
The day when your intriguing mind was created.
Let’s raise a glass to all that you have to prove,
And the person you once knew.
Let’s cheers to new beginnings,
And reasons to continue breathing.
Let’s party for the person you are,
And the fact that you have come so far.
Since today is the day when I was given a best friend,
And someone on who I’ve grown to depend.
Today I was gifted someone who always listens,
And an influence that I would have been missing,
To tell me to let my mind be free,
And not allow others to shake my belief,
In the unique person that we each have the ability to be.
So thank you for surviving another year,
Because without you I would fear,
The pressures in this life to conform,
And the strength it will take to weather this storm.
But you have proved to be steadfast,
In your belief that you will outlast,
All others who said you can’t,
And many reasons for which to be despondent.
Yet you do so with a smile,
And an understanding that this might take a while,
But you have the patience to believe,
In everything that you are proud to be.

Everyone Can Just Fuck Off

Everyone is pissing me off without a second thought.
Everyone is annoying without being aware.
Everyone can not give a shit to care.
Can I learn to be more selfish?
Can I repel all of this negativeness?
Can I help but embrace this?
Just to find that I am alone.
Just to realize that my complaints are overblown.
Just to consider what weaknesses to which I am prone.
Fuck this debate that rages.
Fuck this dissatisfaction that cages me.
Fuck everything in which I once believed.
Off with my head! I want to proclaim.
Off of drugs! I want to exclaim.
Off of my mind and right down the drain.

A Daily Struggle

There is hate when I wake up and begin to contemplate,
The tasks that I must complete today.
There is regret when I do not want to get out of bed,
And allow myself to continue dreaming instead.
There is a desperation in my patience,
For someone to come and save me.
There is no honor in being a goner,
And yet I continue on in my ponder…

What makes me think of these things first?
And where did this undeniable thirst come from?
What is driving me to be numb and removed,
From everything I once wished to pursue?

I overwhelm myself and cope with how I felt,
With a dissatisfaction for being human,
While knowing there is so much more I could be doing.

I hate and think that this is all I can see,
Because I have no strength left in me to believe.

I want to scream!

I take a deep breath and attempt to relax instead,
Allowing my mind to release its dread.

I remind myself of the time it takes,
And that I must be willing to wait,
In order to redeem the life over which I contemplate.

How can I be angry with so much laid before me?
And what is it that I am too blind to see?
What magical opening am I searching for?
And why did I not look for it before?

There is hope that in the time that has passed I will finally grasp,
How to live a life that is important to me instead of sink into relapse.
There is diligence in what I have proven to do in order to get through,
And materialize all of the dreams I am seeking to pursue.
There is time it will take in order to settle this debate,
Creating even more time for me to contemplate.
But there is strength in the way I will go to any lengths,
And a desperate hope that my perseverance will resonate.

Please Forgive These Words I Speak

This feminist movement has got me thinking,
That I must be missing something.
While other women have started screaming,
I am left wondering what to believe in.
Since I have always known myself as empowered,
And now others are shouting to be heard.
Since I always knew and never doubted,
That I am equal to a man in every way,
And valued for the words and ideas I have to say.
I knew from the day of my birth that I am worth,
My weight in love and then some.
And I was raised with the fact that I am equal,
To every other kind of people.
I was taught to see no color,
And define no separation,
Since I can accomplish anything with what I am made of.
Yet still I was cut undeserved slack,
By people who do not know that I see no difference,
Between me and a man and how we live through this.
I know that my arms may be weaker,
But the voice that I speak with is stronger,
Than any a common man can muster.
I know that I am susceptible to pregnancy,
But that is the least of my worries,
When I know that I can be anything I want to be.
I realize that I can be emotional,
But that is part of what makes me whole,
And a reason to express myself even more.
I recognize that I am intelligent,
And that I should never attempt to repent,
The way that I go about sharing this.
I know that I am just a woman,
And I know that they are just men,
And I know that we are all just people in the end.
So what makes me doubt this movement?
And what are we attempting to prove with it?
Since I never saw a difference between me and them,
And I have access to all of the doors I wanted open.
And while I am just catching up to a realization,
Other women are recovering from altercation.
While I was raised to believe in me,
Other women are just beginning to see what they might be.
While I had the support of my father,
Other women followed the footsteps of their mother,
Living a life that is meant to serve others.
Am I alone in the place that I stand?
Or are others just now realizing the power of “I can”?
Was this movement always there?
Or are others just beginning to care?
I want to provide my support,
And I want to be a cohort,
But I doubt that we come from the same perspective,
And that we are fighting for the same reception.
Since I made my life work,
And I am proving what I am worth,
While you claim that you were always held back,
And now is the time when you can react,
Since you have others telling you what to think,
And others providing the words you speak.
While I always held my own voice,
And knew that there was no other choice.
Since living is a burden for us all,
And gender does not matter in the answer to that call.

Exhausted With Hate

I wake up with the intention of being positive,
And then I open my eyes and am reminded of my reality.
The attempt for an upbeat attitude is there,
But I then I step into the stale air that I share.
I wanted to trust and believe in you,
But you are the main reason why I might follow through,
On losing my shit or becoming complacent,
Over all of the ways you are incompetent.
I want to applaud your progress,
But I need to lessen my stress.
And all of this is obvious to me,
But you are so blind at times I doubt you can see,
All that you do that frustrates me,
And the reason I want to leave to desperately.
You are a bad influence and a lazy piece of shit,
And I feel guilty for speaking like this.
But I am tired of mothering you,
And covering for the mistakes that you pursue.
I am sick of waking up in a bad mood,
And disappointed by what you are not willing to do,
To make my life just a little bit easier,
And make my assistance something you actually deserve.
I feel like I am carrying all of the weight,
In this dependency with which I cannot relate,
Since I am fine on my own,
And you are contributing nothing to my home.
I have made attempts to improve my state,
And often wondered what it is you contemplate,
If there is nothing that chose to do on your own,
And how you might eventually justify being alone.
Because you are driving me away without concern,
And I doubt that you will ever learn,
How to contribute to the life of another,
Without making them first address your struggle.
Since you think of yourself first and foremost,
And you are satisfied with the ability to coast,
Through life on the support of others,
While abusing the title you hold of Brother.
Since I would do this for no one else,
But I once knew there was love felt,
Over the support that you attempted to give me,
Making me want to believe,
That you are worth saving with patience,
And that you can accept this feeling of resentment,
And what you did to cultivate it.

Organic Inspiration

The plants remind me to breathe,
As they manifest what I seek.
They prove to survive and grow,
Despite the attention I might show.
I stunt them in pots and hope they will not rot,
I cut back their leaves through which they breathe,
And the whole time I tell them to trust me.
I repot and prune while they attempt to consume,
Only the nutrients I can provide,
In an untrained attempt to keep them alive.
I water and tend,
Hoping that I might be able to mend,
All of the destruction I have inflicted in the past,
And provide them with the strength to surpass,
Plants that have been provided the space,
And a place in this world to grow.
But these plants are separated from the freedom to expand,
And are susceptible to the actions of my hands.
They must obey my decisions,
And yet still they go on living.
They have choose to believe in my attempts,
And they see the time I have spent,
Tending to their needs the best I can,
With the hope that we will both expand.
They believe in me more than I do,
And show the lengths I have been through,
To nurse them back to health,
And the gratitude which is felt,
By both me and the plants that I chose,
To be the reason for which I rose,
This morning with the sun,
And am willing to continue what has begun.

I Can’t Help Myself

I want to end this dependence that I hold with so much repentance.
I want to not be known for doing this or know that I will miss it.
I want to let go of what is killing me while providing a temporary release.
But mostly I want to believe the words that I speak.

This bad habit has gotten the best of me and all that I wanted to be.
It chokes out my voice and breaks down my body,
And yet I will admit reluctantly that it has become a part of me.
It weakens my breath and makes me cough up debris from my chest,
Yet its calling I will not allow to go unaddressed.
The smoke that fills my lungs allows me to be numb until I’m done,
Taking the last drag I can physically take,
Making me instantly want another smoke for this debate.

Yet I know that I want to release this habit that brings me no peace,
Since it is the first and last thing I think of doing each day,
And I have lost track of what else I care to convey.
I have proven to be a smoker and more than just a midnight toker,
While I despise this identity and wish that I could be,
Someone who speaks without a hacking cough,
And is stronger than was previously thought.
I want to prove that I can quit that which I regret,
And not allow this bad habit to get,
The best years of my life that I have to spend.

I want to let go but I am reluctant to allow,
Myself to transform into a different person somehow.
One who is healthy and strong and willing to stick around for the long,
Run of this life and the reasons for which I fight,
To save my breath and the body I was born with.
I once knew an existence without this shame and familiar pain,
And a habit from which I have nothing to gain.
I once knew what it was like to move,
And not be stopped by the habits I pursue.
I once had no second thought when it came to what I sought.
But now I pause to doubt everything I have allowed to come about.

Since I allowed this to happen and it’s my fault I am hacking,
Up a lung and still not satisfied with my level of numb,
Since I allowed this habit to take hold,
And be the first part of me which is told,
In the story of how my life was cut too short,
And I allowed myself to be a victim to the fate I foretold.
I watched all of this happen while I continued lacking,
A care about my slow form of reaction.
Since I am alright with this version of spite,
I hold against myself and all the hope I ever felt,
To prove to be a perfect person,
And instead finding myself to be a flawed version.

So here’s one more if I’m continuing to keep score,
And here’s another chance I allowed to be abhorred.
Here’s a step in the wrong direction,
And here’s to the lack of my perfection.

Pardon My French

Le travail is getting the best of me,
Being more than what I wanted it to be,
And consuming all that I once wished to see.

Les enfants are a source of my envy,
With the way that they live so simply,
And the ease with which they breathe.

J’utilise the determination I was born with,
And yet I feel like I have missed,
The point of doing all of this.

La mère of this resentment lying in my repentance,
Against all that I lost track of since,
I realized that I was losing it.

Je commence to feel unstable,
And like I am somehow unable,
To rise above these defining labels.

Quand j’ai realize that work has consumed my mind,
And all of my precious time,
Never allowing me a chance to unwind.

Une chercheuse of how to serve others,
I echo the footsteps of my own mother,
And I allow what I need to go uncovered.

J’ai un abonnement to what I am willing to lose,
And proof that I am willing to choose,
None of this over the option of being used.

J’ai mieux opportunities laid out before me,
And yet I allow myself to mislead,
All of my previous beliefs.

Il est a shame that I am left deranged,
When I have so much more that I could gain,
If I proudly claimed I am sane.

De participer in this debate,
I am left feeling irate,
And all I want to scream is