My mind is made up of dark fantasies and memories that never happened, but somehow ends up cutting like a scar. A scar to remind me that it did. Maybe I'm hallucinating... or maybe my imagination is an intensity outside of my control. But what's the difference? You tell me. After all, isn't this all a dream anyways? Aren’t you just a figment of my imagination? A reflection of me? A reflection of what I like or dislike about myself? A lesson needing to be learned? At least thats what we're taught. just like how love is a forever thing. A exclusive thing. A religious thing. How it's filled with butterflies and surprises and pictures to show proof of exactly that. Perhaps I should keep dreaming. Perhaps I should wake up. Wake up to the reality that it doesn't exist here. I mean, of course I want romance but trouble seems to want me more. Trouble seems to find me better. Or maybe it's karma. I don't know. I can't distinguish between the two. My therapist tells me to take deep breaths and think good thoughts. But I don't think even she knows what good thoughts are. So I laugh ...and I take deep breaths and I think good thoughts. good thoughts of me playing with fire.

On a quest to find something meaningful. Something deeper. Much deeper. Far away from all this make-believe. Far away from here. Far away from this place whose sun shines so bright that it’s own residences eventually becomes a shadow of another shadow that used to radiate. Here, everyone feels duplicated. Every conversation feels empty. Every relationship is an advancement. Every expression is a competition. And yet, I spent my whole life believing I belonged here... forcing myself to belong here. Just to feel like I belonged somewhere. Just to realize I belong with you. Back in your bed. Back under your sheets. But you, you are now just an echo in my ears. A fading image in my head. An image of the last time everything felt right. Right being the night when you picked me up, wearing that white t-shirt you knew I loved seeing you in. The night we drove aimlessly around high off molly and mary j. The night before I moved here. Before I moved to a place that made me understand how much I belonged back there.

I'm becoming very good at letting people in but also keeping them out. Contradiction, I know. But do you have a better way? I've got a curious soul that I can't seem to tame down and an inner world that I'm too selfish to share. A mind that can't seem to get rid of invisible dark clouds that I put there myself, yet continue to play dumb every time my therapist asks me questions. So I stopped going. All these missed appointments, un-answered text messages, and a varied collection of thunderstorm relaxation sounds in my itunes library, this is the real me. I refuse to change. I want rainbows yet I prefer the rain. I want the sun but the moon makes me feel safe. I want to tell you the truth though you only desire what’ll make you happy. I want to feel loved only to run towards the pain so I can be alone again. Without you again. Back to my thoughts again. Back home again.

I’m gazing at you and all I can feel is the way you view my entire existence. I feel the way you hold yourself back even though you can’t wait to run your rugged beard down my thighs as you tell me how stressed you’ve been all day. As we lay in bed smoking and talking about the way the Universe works. I feel the love you want to express and the pride that won’t let you. I’m good for you, and you know that. but you also know a part of you will be lost if that were to be spoken on. So here I am gazing at you, holding myself back too.