What happened to Lost and Found?

I've been waiting, and forcing everything I have, and holding on to the only thing left.. I keep wondering, and thinking... you: You're lost, aren't you? I think about you like grass thinks about the other side. Like relationships think about forever. Like  fathers' knees' think about supporting his family. Like  4 year olds think about themselves. Like haunted houses think about putting you in its coffin. Like boys think about sex and getting the next... Hottest. I think about you like straighteners think about the smell of crisp hair and burnt flesh. And I'm thinking about you like mountains think about land slides and like rain thinks about drowning children. I think about you like the earth thinks about it's own core and how one day, a little quake, and we'll all see it. I think about you... I think about you so much that I know the feeling of apnea and cardiac arrest. I think about you like the elderly think of heaven and god. I think we all think about death. I think about you... Like dreams think about making you think you're flying.. I think about every damn thing I can that reminds me of you. That bedtime story you wrote for me... I keep reading it and thinking about why I'm crying and why you're hiding. I think about you like schools think about championships. Like stories think about pleasing their writers. I think about you like the dead think about dancing in the sky and the living think about signing up for that choir.  I'm thinking about you like demons think about unzipping our skin and wearing it. Like tongues think about playing games with our teeth: how it's a miracle they never get bit. I'm thinking about you like Dragons think about protecting princesses... Ya. That was me. I think you're lost, and I'm going to find you. Because I can't get you off my mind, and maybe I don't want to. Until I find you, RIP <3

Cigars and wine

You made me love you...

 

I hate how you kiss me and hold me.

The way you make me feel stupid.

I hate how I tried and you played, but this game isn't for fun.

I hate the sun. I can see you and hear your deep scary voice. No more love jokes and apple slices.

New Years was way too cold to try that little trick.

The world whore you kissed.

Call me Colby and I'll hate you more.

That's not my name you f*cking dick.

My beating soul only feels my cardiac heart. 

My soft face. Moisture of tears. 

I think it's time I tell you why. 

3. 400 if your own. 40 to me. 0 of my own 500 to you.

2. Empty belly and screaming lungs. You just laugh and have some fun.

1. One word, that you didn't mean. 

That lie you threw around. Like I'm just a rag doll. 

Give me your world; I can shut it down.

And now I only loathe you. 

Hide the vodka or leave

From the moment I wake up until my hair turns grey; any noise ends up back to you. 

From 9-10 pm, when I'm in my bed wondering if you're going to call, my heart beat is rewritten. 

You created an insomniac and when I sleep I recognize this trying in finding you. And I'm looking at smoke but I picture the flames.

Every time I tried to stretch this magic out, the more flat tires you gave me.

The haystack of games I sat on while you were the needle that never poked it's way to one of mine.

You weren't ready for Paris when I was here, writing our one sided love story. 

I've been trying to climb this slippery rock, when you're already at the top and I end up looking up to you with these puppy eyes, wondering why you won't feed me.

You staind these scrapes red and my heart is melting black. 

When you locked the door I broke the windows. I stole it all back. Time after time you struck at my love. 

$500 dollars I'll never get back and those meals I thought were for you are my lover's. 

Slutty names that aren't my own, I took that like a ghost playing piano and no.. No one is home.

All these cries left are echoes. 

And then I heard it : MAYBE LOVE SHOULDN'T. 

Apologies don't survive in the hands of theives. 

These secrets are no place for love. 

And I almost drank this bullet filled chemical to clear my throat to an open door.

I don't hear your words anymore.

This war is over. 

Lamp posts and real hoes

I watch her and I think I want her. 

Lesbian. Gay. 

She looks so good and she catches my eye.

Maybe it's the reason: I love the smell of cologne. 

My body shower scented man. 

I sometimes use my brothers deodorant; his cologne smells like you.

Try and smell me now, won't you? 

Find me and label me. 

HA.

I don't always do these things. Not every day. Only the days I'm missing him. 

I'm not so "gay" after all. 

Never kissed a girl. I could if I was drunk. But she'd still have to be gorgeous and have long hair with that crisp caramel color. I like to see a sexy body. I'm insecure. So insecure that you wouldn't believe; I still eat. 

I want that body of hers.

That's why I wonder sometimes. 

I want what she has and what I'm too weak to become.

Maybe I'm wrong. And maybe the moon told me to move on. I asked the sun about the Big Bang. The crater that everyone thinks might be cheese... Yeah. He told me that that theory is just a sleaze. Just like that slut.

Just like that slut I think I want to be. Girl trust me. Spread your wings and your heart. Rip open that beauty and art. 

I'm me and that's fine. The moon told me reflecting is hard. Being my own sun and stars is better than being mistaken as a street light.

Dark blue

You say they are beautiful; I only see black.

The sky darker than any negro colored crayon. 

Images give no evidence of blue. Take me on; black along with disappearing planets; gone in the wind.

Those blue get me confidence and compliments. 

Maybe I'm a liar. 

Because I'm what I hate and you're what I want.

Stop with the bleeding. Take the blow. Take on anyone. 

Maybe love is just muscle memory. 

In the dark with music on; wishing I was somewhere else.

I'll fly away and leave it behind. Only red drowning out perceived blue.

Take away the black and steal innocence.

Breath-in-exhale. 

This ocean fell far from the blood spill.

Is there a reason we break and die? There's a reason why we laugh and love. 

A reason why we speak and preach.

The knowledge behind brushing our teeth and picking our scabs.

Why our taste buds like sweet or salty.

When I was a kid, I used to think sticks and stones were really worse than words...

And then I heard the words fat and weird.

They wrote loser on my locker and I had to scrub it off.

The principal hated me. People were shotting brandy on the park bench and I dragged my friend far away.

He thought I was there; getting drunk next to the school grounds. He acted like he had me on a tight rope and he thought he was right. But kids are cruel.

They were wrong. I didn't belong with that group and maybe I don't belong to any clique. 

Don't worry, I will graduate and make it. My life continues on that balance beam but this is just beauty. 

There's you and then there's... Well; this.

I play games. The nerdy ones like mahjong and sodoku. I like figuring weird. I say things like that, they don't make sense.

My hand is an inch from my face, somehow I don't see it. It's not blurry but nonexistent. You're a little freaked out. But there's a blockage in my way.

I hear her voice but she's not there either. I don't even know her name. I don't know how old she is or why she stares... But if you asked me I'd say she's good. You on the other hand, you'd be scared and pull out your bible and the cross. 

I'm thinking of going into psychology or medium reading. I want to prove to you that they're still here. That they aren't bad. 

I sometimes read too deep into things. I don't think you understand. I'm sure you don't like it. But sweetheart, you've got to know this; your baby, he's just fine.

My little fighter

You see me, but do not speak. Do you understand me?

I love the way you smile and laugh, but this is taking from out bond. 

I'll hold you, kiss your cheek and sing your song.

Because my beautiful dove, you're free. 

The pain is real, it's strong so I feel. I watch you, I know you.

You're still the brightest sun. Though little respond. My little fighter. My tear, your heart. Trying for stone. 

Inspiration, faith and need. You are my noble steed.

Push me, love me, unconditionally. 

You've done your part, you played the role. Now it's time my sisters soul. You're strong but weak. Spread your wings and take a leap. 

I look up and your soul is here. You're pure. No longer do I fear. 

And then I see

 

 I crave bread. Real bread... Not the white stuff that is bleached flour. Cooked meals are something I'll never take for granted. My half brother who I wasn't excited for is my best friend. My step dad cares and I cherish the opportunity. Being healthy is important to me. If it's too cold or too hot, I know it's not the end of the world. Opening your heart to someone is the best medicine. Judgement is about who you are. A glass of water is better in a drought. The blessing of siblings saves loneliness and creates a friend. Hugs really do make anything better. Technology saves me a lot of work, but I don't actually learn. Salty makes me sweet. Dancing and freeing your soul releases tension and is less awkward. Having a car of my own gives me sense of trust and responsibility. I appreciate being disciplined when I made a bad decision. My mom is my best friend. Music in every context uplifts my heart.

1+1=DEATH

A life in my head:

A small and fragile skin forgetting any hurt. Some bruises from falling 6 inches. Friends the same, sharing without a worry. And then sixth grade you left me... Walks to the park. My favorite babysitter. The way you tickled my ear and caressed me as I was falling asleep on your lap. How the only thing I remember is happiness. Our parties with make-up and earrings. The day I found out You didn't really quit smoking. It was to stop me from worry. I was 9 and you cried. But you loved me. You protected me. And then you died. In sixth grade... I refer to death as losing my grandma. I figure she'll miss me graduate, get married, have a baby... The important things. But once she left. My life seemed to end, too. My parents went their separate ways. My grandpa tuned out. His house is filled with druggies. Of course my dad and uncle were the ones with drugs. She held everything together. But forget all that because that's not my life. When I'm alone in my room crying. She's there... On my birthday when my streamers were moving, I knew it was you there... How else? This is my jumbled brain not making sense. The same as death. You're gone but only through physical touch... I know you watch me. I feel guidance. Death communicates through seeing what life couldn't. The only way I can portray what I presume.

This is about YOU

I was a sad and lonely, very lost and very confused teenager. Many things were going wrong and I wanted it all to disappear. The lying and the stealing. Betrayal and hurting friends. I almost got away with sex and alcohol. With the way you treated me. I stole mascara when I had 6 tubes at home. It was an act. I was your puppet and you pulled my strings. Remember Halloween, 2009? I said I'm done with this. My mom was there and she helped me stand up for myself. The last day of ninth grade when you ruined my white dress. Eggs stuck to my car and fried on the cement of my driveway. When you sneaked in my house at two in the morning. I know what you did. What you did makes me cry. It makes me insecure. It makes me quiver at any touch. When people say it was me, I want to beat the shit out of them. But then I realize; you're the one that did this. The way I had a hundred friends and now I have one. Reasons I go home and punch holes through my walls. When someone tries talking to me and I can't find comfort in it. How I can't go anywhere without someone telling me you're there. They say I shouldn't go because you're there. But I'm sure you didn't tell them the sick thing you did. The you I've been talking about isn't the you this post is about... I got invited to a small self-love and confidence kind of thing. I saw you there. You were in charge. And you told us a story. About your dad. This story wasn't just yours... It was mine, too. The change from sober to the smell of aged grape and strong whiskey. Your voice that gives away the lack of respect you have for him. That rhyme of homeless men with a kick of beat. The way I felt like you really cared. I only write when I'm having the urge to cry or hurt myself. The reason I'm writing this right now... I saw something. One of the two adults that lead me and that I actually enjoy listening to. The awkward way I see into your soul and the attention I give you. It was different without you this year. In that group thing... The one that's meant to help that homeless kid. Help me. I didn't think I was homeless until I made myself click and enroll. This Paris that is changing me internally. So to you... I didn't get it all across. My point being, that is. But one day you might know. You have an impact. #ThankYou