I Missed you.

I miss you
and all you gave me
which was only hope
that someday
we would be more
than a passing glance
a stolen chance
for making memories
that make every day
more than waiting
sitting close
close as you could
feeling electricity
that since
lost its charge.



Sometimes I would rather die than to have to deal with silence and fights. I know that my feelings are not always justified, but it would be nice to be understood once in a while. Instead I feel like I have to keep it all locked up on the inside unless I want to be left out in the cold for good. I pray for clarity and for strength not to be mean back. It seems very unjust and childish not to be able to talk to my very own husband. I want to see where I am wrong in this so that I can truly be sorry for my actions. But right now, I am not sorry for my actions, I am just sorry for having to suffer in my own house. It seems as though we don’t know which came first, the chicken or the egg. But we are both unsatisfied with each other.

I am unsatisfied with a lot that probably is buried beneath the surface so that I can’t even understand it myself.

I guess God just wants to stop being my backup, when times get tough.



I know your face
How you’re searchin for a place
for a love
that will not let you go
and I know your pain
how it felt to lose your name
and sit there waitin
to find yourself again.

I know your kind
How you like to change your mind
and look for
something better for today
and I know regret
the kind you felt when you met
someone else
who took all you had to give.

Every boy and every girl
chasing dreams
in this world
and every woman
every man
who lost the love
that wasn’t planned
Go home
Go home
Go home
Home is where you belong.


Am I Happy?

Am I happy?

I just need a friend
I threw away every
to anything more.
No. Rephrase.
I tucked it away
for a rainy day.
And the only way
I know
to make a friend
is to give something
I have to give
but it doesn’t mean
I don’t need
anything in return.
Because that would be desperation. And I’m not desperate.
But if I were, Who cares anyway.
We’re all desperate, just not always fully aware of it.

I just want someone to like me
hear what I have to say
listen to my songs
without turning away.

A Freaking Fairy Tale where you have to get drunk just to believe a 3 night stand was somehow something more.