Azerum

Why are our days ruled by time? We live each and every day just Waiting Waiting for the moment we can feel a part of something Waiting to feel like we belong To something To someone, to anything worth being a part of Does everyone get the feeling that life is not worth living? Do they ever look at their lives and think: What's the point? Why should I care? Why am I doing this? I mean, we're all living, we're breathing, and smiling, and moving from place to place, meeting people, and having experiences But for what? So we can take a few pictures Write hundreds of journal entries that no one will read Learn what it's like to

I have only seen myself in black and white. Life is plain in the younger years; simplistic. No real definitive characteristics, only a promise that you'll grow into your skin. One day. The way you grow into it will define you the day you fit. I twitch and squirm as my skin grows tighter, Fearing I may have come into it all wrong. I am defined by the "dos" and the "don'ts" and the "rights" and the "wrongs" Instilled in that simplistic childhood long past. Painted in absence of color, built by brick and mud. "You will be sturdy in your new skin", they used to tell me. I was molded with patience and less than consideration, But just

i wanted you. you with your make-me-forget-everything smile and deep-as-the-ocean eyes. but I couldn't have you. you were out of reach. too far away, and not close enough for me to touch. i used to measure something's worth by how long and hard i worked to have it. in many ways, i still do. in your eyes, I don't think I had much worth. because as far as I know, when you think something's worth it, you don't let it go easily. but you practically pushed me away. i don't blame you, not really. you see, i would've pushed me away too. i would have never even given me a chance. i'm not the girl everyone wants. for now, i'm

She sits alone at night, Accompanied by her loneliness. It touches her hand, And has a hold on her heart. No one can come in, And she can't get out. Her savior is buried beneath the soil, Labeled by a stone that read, "Here Lies a Loving Husband" Marking the beginning of her loneliness. His soul once carried her to heaven, And his love kept her feet on the ground, And his pressence kept her warm, On those cold winter nights. Lonely was not an emotion she possessed. She held his hand, From day one to the end, The night he took his last breath, She kissed his forehead, And whispered of her love. His dying words, "Don't cry

The world is not ours,                  (but that doesn't stop us from wanting it) Our bodies are not limitless; they do not last forever, though in this moment                                                             ­                                              I swear, I almost feel infinite There was a time when I thought words were immeasurable Those being said, those already spoken, and those yet to be spoken They are, were and would forever be endless Some are exchanged lightly without thought, and others are as thunder, destructive and forceful, but somehow it doesn't matter how they are said, and to whom; As long as th

You are a word so closely fused with fate, destiny, chance, and sometimes love The most beautiful word I know Is it possible not to fear an unknowable future? Perhaps life is not about knowing, but rather about finding out—discovering Maybe it's hints of surprising, unforeseen, partly inevitable circumstances that test our limits of comfort Tell me, is love properly defined as two lost people thrown together by chance? Or could it be that they were always meant to find each other? Did some divine, other-worldly force reach down and gently place these lives on the same path? Or is it simply destiny that caused these two souls to m

"Impossible." She says. [We're lying in the grass looking up at a blue sky. I shift myself so I can look at her]. "What is?" "That you're here right now--with me." [I just stare at her, unsure of where she is going with this. And then I remember I should say something before she gets a chance to ask me why I am not saying anything]. "Oh, um, why is that so impossible?" I smile.   "Because, you're you and I'm me. It doesn't make sense." [At this point, I'm trying to keep it cool, I've heard girlfriends say some really strange things at times. And this is one of those times]. "I don't think I understand." I tell her, still

Some days there will be desolate tears And other times, laughter uncontrollable But I'll still love you for what you are Not for what you feel you should be

i pray that i'll finally realize life isn't all about me i hope that someday i'll wake up to the ringing in my ears and know that love is not just a lie i live so i won't feel alone i've been studying the colors behind my eyelids for so long now, that i've almost forgotten how to open them to the beauty of the light if i wanted to, i could go on shutting out the voices that try to reason with my stubbornness i could push away everyone in my life that only want to keep my heart from breaking if i needed to, i could walk across thresholds of open doors, instead of crashing through closed windows i could take the blame, accept forgiven

when you showed me your heart i wanted to hide i wanted to run as far away as i possibly could but at the same time, i wanted to hold you i wanted to fix you i wanted to tell you that my heart was yours but i didn't instead i walked away my dear, i wanted to love you i just didn't know how