Stuck in transit

I’ve been walking around with my eyes closed

Because it feels better to be in a world of make believe

But when I opened my eyes I saw street lights flickering on and off

I frown slightly; perhaps some one should notice and fix it

So imagine it shining as bright as the afternoon sun

Walking around in the darkness makes it my street light night light

I see my neighbor standing outside as usual

He smokes his cigarettes escaping from the stress of everyday life

He’s got a birds point of view, observing the life around him

He stops me from the top of his drive way and asks

“It’s midnight; you’ve walked this street up and down a million times”

I walk up the drive as the garage door light shades his features

His white hair tousles in the winter breeze

I spoke as he took a drag, puckering his lips and letting out a puff of smoke

He flicks the ash off the butt

I watch as the embers fall and fade in to the pavement

“You know, it’s nice to escape once in awhile

Have some piece of mind, today the world is just filled with stress”

I watch his eyes travel to the sky and rest on the big dipper

“You know when I was your age I used to look at the first star each night

And wish on it”

He said beginning to laugh, remembering his younger days

I dig my hands in my pockets and sigh wishing that I’d have wished on a star

But I forgot and took in the night sky all together

“You know when you were a kid you’d walk around your yard,

Stuck in your own world, I never knew what you were doing.

You’ve gotta have a great imagination”

He smiled and patted my back breaking out in a cough

He’s got a smoker’s lung, you could find him outside any time of the day

Escaping for a moment before his wife calls him back in the house

“FRANK!” his wife calls making this is cue

“Hey kid, don’t let the world drag you down”

We exchanged our good nights as he put out the cigarette

I took one last look at the embers glowing while the scent of smoke dispersed in the air

I closed my eyes and walked down the driveway making my way home

Borrowed Blood

This blood, it is not mine
It is borrowed
I suppose it's mine by now
After it's cycled it's way through the four chambers of my heart
and made it's way through my capillaries
But it is not really mine

I was once A positive, healthy and full of life
But then I started degrading
Until one day I found bruises on my arms that were explainable,
The headaches and bad luck that kept me bleeding
Diagnosed with two terminal diseases
But that would never bring me down

When I found out about it's betrayal,
I was aided with countless transfusions
Still A positive, but not entirely mine
It came to the point where I need a transplant
Where my blood needed to start over again
O positive, that's my blood type now
Same as my sister, my donor
Grateful now that I have life

But this blood, this blood is not mine
it will never be my blood
My blood was bad, so this blood is new
borrowed, but not temporary
Forever mine until I pass
So, I guess technically this blood is mine now

But to me it will always be borrowed

Get out of my head

I'm going through another cycle of insomnia, it's not like its a big deal. Just a loss of sleep. It's probably the result of anxiety and stress that's been trapped in my mind. It's just that.. well it's gonna sound stupid and redundant, but I've lost too many people this year and it just hurts. I can't have anymore people leave me. I have no clue what i'm doing when i go back to school. i only have like three people i can hang out with and for the rest of the people "who are there for me" haha, yeah right. fuck you. If you honestly expect that when i get back everything will change and go back to normal and we can be BFFs well it's not happening. Things changed and i'll never forget that. that people werent here when i needed them. You know, at first i thought that things weren't going to change but then i realized that they were and i was trying SO hard for them not to, and then i thought well when i get better things will go back to normal. Uh uh. It never will.

happiness is a warm gun

I’m so happy.

I’m walking down the street scuffing my shoes against the pavement

Humming a tune I made up a minute ago

Making up some fancy foot work as I go

Pretend that no one can hear me singing as I belt out a tune.

Its night time and the street lights are cascading down on my shoulders

The audience is the stars

Believe it, They are shining down on me

I’m a closet singer

Never really liking my voice, but good enough to hold a note

I’m singin’ because I feel like I’m free fallin’

I feel like a volcano is erupting inside of me

And those butterflies are finally floating away

So I smile at the moon and take a bow

Waiting for another encore as a star falls down

Make a wish

Well, I wish for this feeling to never go away

Everything fits into piece right now

So I’m gonna sing another song

Maybe about how I’m falling for you all over again

I believe that love is a rare thing

And you make me feel like ever cliché has come true

You catch my eye and make me whole

It’s like staring at Picasso’s master piece but better

But singing this love song would make my throat go dry

Because I have too much to say

Boy, I could sing about you all night

Serenade you as you stand from a balcony

Or stand outside your window with a boom box on my shoulder

Either way, my point will come across

You make my heart sing like an orchestra

The Beatles said happiness is a warm gun

I’m feeling a bit trigger happy

My toes are tapping and my shoulders are swaying

A melody escapes from my lips

As I sashay down the street

Making believe that tonight is a musical

asdf

wind, whisper me secrets you only share with the sky.