Welcome Back, Stranger

Cancer does a lot to someone’s appearance.
Everyone can see the new wrinkles you wear,
The hint of sparkle in your eyes you once had,
That is lost, lost with your identity.

I can’t help but realize how it wore you down.
Now you don’t have the motivation anymore.
It’s harder to get out of this bed nowadays.
What is your motivation, anyways?

But you don’t realize the truth of this lacking.
Your lack of strength is just a renewal of hope.
It’s the reason I can still get up every morning,
Even when I know things can fall apart.

It’s a light, guiding those without that hope
To find a reason for the pain you went through,
A victim to avenge, a suspect to get revenge.
All in the efforts of your losses.

Sure, it’s at your expense, but look at it now.
Look at how many people you have changed.
Look at me, and how I’m still holding on.
Hold on, because we’ll hold on with you.

Point One Finger, Get Three Pointing Back

Wake up.
Wake up in my bed.
Look down and see not what you know.
But what you’ll see is me.

Get up.
Get up out of bed.
Look around and see my room.
What has happened to you?

Walk out.
Walk out and live.
Live my life and see what I have to do.
See what it’s truly like from inside.

Open up.
Open up your eyes.
Find that not everything is what it seems.
That my challenges are true.

Come back.
Come back to yourself.
What have you learned from being me?
Has your perspective changed?

It will.
It will change us all.
Just understand what daily pain I endure.
Stop pointing fingers.

Especially when the person you’re pointing at,
Could be the person you needed all along.

If Only

If only you knew the way he looked at you.
If only you saw what it did to me, too.
If only it was as easy as you make it look.
If only just a glance was all it took.

Yes, I have my own relationship to love.
But what you have, it’s something to talk of.
I’m happy with what I have, I promise.
But this pain is something I know I won’t miss.

If only I had something to envy like that.
For someone to even envy me back.
Is it love if no one else sees it?
Is it love if no one else believes it?

Don't Look Down, I'm Holding Your Hand

Love cannot be comprehended.
It is a way of life, concealed
From all who dare to learn it’s ways,
From all who dare to say “I love you.”

Love is an emotion, not an action.
It can be verbalized, and seen,
But never truly tangible by humans.
The Way is learned, not taught.

No human can ever teach to love.
Love is an act within itself.
An act of unselfishness, compassion.
It demands and punishes cruelly.

Any brave soul that dare to try
Will not be allowed through today.
Love will not be sought out.
Love will be stumbled upon.

It is the most unlikely of events,
That two people may realize that
The second hand that holds yours
Belongs to one that reciprocates love.

To reciprocate love is to love unconditionally,
An act to be tested by most.
Unconditional love is merely a test
Of your willingness to sacrifice for love.

Is it love if you would rather hear
The beat of one’s heart over
The beat of a band’s bass drum
More than anything else in the world?

The Perks of Masochism

It’s like reverse psychology.
A mistake is made, I blow up.
With ease, you turn it on me.

How do you get away with it?
How can you do this to me?
How do you make it look so easy?

I become instantly miserable,
A reaction uncontrolled
In this Chemistry experiment.

Don’t play with my emotions
Just to prove that you can.
We all know how you work.

I’m just a time bomb,
Waiting for the perfect moment
To cause a scene, a tragedy.

They call me crazy for this.
Going crazy over you, of course.
They don’t know what it’s like.

It’s like watching your favorite soap.
You always criticize the dumb one
For crying over a break up.

Screaming at the television,
You tell her getting back with him
Is the biggest mistake of her life.

But you aren’t in her shoes.
You don’t feel what she feels.
She unknowingly walks on cloud 9.

You are still here on Earth.
You can’t discover the wonders there.
But you blame her misery on her actions.

It’s not something you can help.
Trust me, I’ve tried.
And it’s worth it, I know.

It’s worth crying your eyes out
And ruining the perfect party.
Because the after party is better.

You come for the party.
But no one ever stays for it.
You stay for the rush afterwards.

It’s a form of masochism.
Except it has more perks.
It’s so much more rewarding.

A Dose of Regret

You are so smart.
Intelligence and common sense beyond belief.
The ability to see through people that are fake.
A true sense of what life is.

But you have your flaws.
The inability to read one’s true feelings.
A dramatic sense of superiority above others.
You seem to think you know me better than I do.

I hate to say it, love,
But when you can’t stop and listen,
Stop and truly listen to someone and feel
And understand rather than criticize.

You need a reality check.
Just a fix of compassion, paired with a diagnosis.
It’s the perfect concoction to change this.
Just an intervention too overdue.

It’s a problem.
A problem that roots from the depths of hell.
It corrupts from the inside out.
Then there is no way to escape it.

If this was the way.
The way to tell you how this feels,
How much this affects not only you, but me.
And how close it could cut this,

Then maybe,
A dose of regret is all you need.