Clouds

Constant state of not being able to understand,
or to grasp.
It's almost as if there is nothing left to be said,
Everything has been heard, and understood.
We have made our choices,
So why do we refuse to live by them?

We say things, we mean,
Just to never acknowledge the words that we spoke?

So how honest are these words?
How much meaning do they hold?

Don't we get tired of such actions?
The worst is to feel repetitive.
So do we just stand in silence?

It's starting to feel not enough,
it never was, why should we believe it to be so?

Even anger feels foolish now.
A drunken text seems so diluted.

Have we plucked the freshest fruit,
And watched it rot in front of our eyes?
Without even taken a bite?

What good can come out of this?
Can anything happen, good or bad?

There is no restart button,
there is no fresh start.

We all know that, getting away must be the key?
But everywhere I look,
It seems so dark and empty.

Even laughter sounds like a crazy man's scream for help.

Who's name do you call when at your lowest?
Most desperate?
What face will make it all okay?

I understand, but choose not to.

I don't have an option.
There were non given to me.

I know what I want,
And I know how to take what I want.

But I refuse to be so selfish,

I would rather be Alone,
Than to be comfortable and unhappy.

Our days pass, one seemingly as useless as the other?
How do I make use of my day?

How do I seize the day?

I know, But I don't act on it.

Why?

Have I lost all sense of purpose?

I need fresh blood.

I need new meanings.

Why slave away?

Death at the cost of Life.

Continue.
please,
I'm Listening..

But as time passes, I have realized you do not listen to your own words,

All you hear, is the reaction on my face.
And you will say whatever it takes.

The situation cannot be simplified,

There will never be a goodbye,
just the memory of the last time we spoke.

Memories haunt,
until we choose to block them.

But as our guard slips,
our grip tightens.

Hearing words which send blood rushing,
Heart quickens its pace,
you beg for them to know your thoughts through what your eyes scream in desperation.

But we all remain calm,
with hope for tomorrow,

or with hope of an exit.

Whatever comes first,
we take.

And we hope it's not the exit.

Cloudy,
It has been for quite sometime.

When will the sky clear up and direct us towards the proper way?

Unfair,
is just another excuse people use,
when being out maneuvered.

There is no such thing.

Yet hope remains,

As long as we tell each other so.

one day,
I will change,
I promise.

I just hope you are there.