I Don't Have A Title, Just Fucking Do It.

You know, I'm really sorry.
If you feel like you've lead a tough road.
I don't need to go into specifics.
But I've been there and am still there.
Yet I'm still pushing.
It's not hope.
It's not faith.
It's not the light at the end of the tunnel.
Get this term into your mindset.
Determination.

Please?

So, I had this dream.
Well, I guess some people would consider it a nightmare.
Nevertheless, a dream to me.
Bring on the Apocalypse.

You Tell Me.

I just want a chance.
I mean, I don't know if it's so much a chance.
But at the same time, it feels that way.
I haven't known you long.
But it's as if I've known you for so long.
There's still so much to learn from you.
The little things, the big things.
Why learn it all in one siting,
When it could be numerous sittings together.
You took me by surprise,
For all of this to happen so sudden,
I can't complain.
I wish there was a way to make my point across,
That I haven't felt this way in so long.
And to make you believe me,
And just not think it's what every guy thinks.
I feel like I don't need to write this to you,
It just feels necessary.
I don't wish to scare you away.
Maybe doing this will though.

Time.

I'm sorry I have a problem showing you my feelings and the way I am at.
I want to be that the guy to show you the affectionous you deserve.
I realize I stall out and my mind goes blank.
It's not because of you.
It's due to other girls.
Girls who've broken my heart more times than I can count.
But I'm trying to the best to my ability to change this.
For you.
I know you may not see it at times, but with you.
I know I can make it happen.
I just need the time if you're willing to give me the chance.
And it'll become a whole different perspective for you.
Promise.
Pinky promise.

Your Highness.

I'm not a model.
I'm not a genius.
I'm not a saint.
I'm just a man.
And so are you.
So who are you to judge.

A Work In Progress.

We all think about a lot of things. Perhaps I'm different or maybe even considered weird for this particular thought that always seems to cross my mind day by day. This thought is about life in general. At what point and time did us Americans, or even in general become "brainwashed" to believe that you need certain objects in order to live life and to believe that's what you need to have to be "happy". I use to think that I needed a car, a job, a cell phone, ect. in order to live life. I can't recall when all of a sudden that this thought hit me and made me realize is this what we really need in order to live life. Are those nice and convenient? Sure. But are they required to live life? The "American Dream" is to get a job, get married, have a house and have kids. That "dream" isn't what I want. I know there is so much more to life than that. What the fuck is stopping me from just doing my own thing? Is it fear, or perhaps being alone. Really, I'm hoping for a world where there is no currency, no jobs, no bills, ect. and just survival. Maybe I'm fucked up in the head, I don't know but I do know I want some more drugs.

[The last sentence is just a temporary closure until I continue to add onto this.]

Later Gator.

I promise.
Those are the words you said to me.
Those are the words you left me with.
I'm not quite sure you even know the definition of promise anymore.
Those words use to comfort me.
Now the thought of it all makes me sick.
I have to wonder if everyone who states I promise is just using it as a scapegoat.
I'm a man of my word.
And with the definition by my side.
You'll never get a second thought from me.
I promise.

Hard Knock Life.

Roses are red.
Violets are blue.
Fuck it.
You're not worth my time to finish this.

Not For Those Eyes.

The first word to my mind is.
Fuck.
Every other guy feels the same way.
You're a teaser, admit it.
What did you expect coming out like that.
That elegant body of yours.
The red lipstick to match that red dress.
Coincidence?
No.
The blood will match your colors.

Chance.

Look babe, I need to talk to you.
But you're not going to say anything back.
Listen, just listen. Just listen.
And then sleep on it.
I can't keep doing this.
It isn't fair to you, and it's not fair to myself.
I was drunk, you were drunk.
I thought I loved you, you thought you loved me.
But lets get real.
You're not that girl.
I'm not that guy.
I wish you were awake to apologize.
If you're still by my side in the morning.
Then I'll reconsider my thoughts.