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A list of your truth’s

Truth’s about yourself

Truth’s about the world

You will notice a similarity between your list and your life

Trust in your truth’s

A truth is what one believes in

It is what one sees through

It is contained within the eye’s lip’s and the tongue

The mind

Word’s thought’s and deed’s plant seeds

This will feed our wants and our needs

The blanket of your creation

A moment of hesitation

You are whatever you want to be

I tried to see it- it seemed to be hiding from me- I looked for it everywhere I went- still hiding- I looked for it within all of the different places I went- I looked for it within all of the different people I met- still hiding- I even looked for it within myself- still hiding- sometimes you just have to give it, so you can get out- that is if it will let you out- see it for what it really is in front of you- nothing that would mean anything to you…

I think about you sometimes, but these times are times when I am not thinking, or at least I am not right in the head. I cannot remember the last time I was right in the head. I never learned the difference between not right and not wrong. It only exists when I am not thinking about you, which is most of the time. I can still remember how your hands felt on my face when you would try to caress it…rough…scratchy…There was nothing soft about you, concrete with a heartbeat…somewhat. I forgot to tell you…one last thing…you can go fuck yourself.

nurtured in the way of death

supreme discovery

wilted awake

torturing the slumber of your destiny

the giving hands are tied

your words that lied

as you laid with me

forsaken trust shattered my lust

skin with no name on my lips

from behind i showed you who i was

now you know all of me

not the inside

that part is safe

a secret you will never know

my shadow is all you know

you try to hide within it

they can still see you

a wilted rose of flame and blame

You sat there quietly and patiently waiting to speak. You were statuesque still, except for your right leg. It was shaking so violently, as though your leg was trying to escape from your body. You kept wiping your mouth off with the palm of your left hand. Still statuesque, except for the exodus leg and your left hand. It finally came, your turn to speak. A loud boisterous voice escaped from your throat. The voice does not match the frail malnourished body it escaped from. You started ripping into the other people that were in the room; how they come in and unload all of their problems and drama onto the others. You compared it to verbal vomit, verbal diarrhea. You kept going on and on about how this upset you. It actually angered you that people come into this room, selfishly, and metaphorically, unloading all of their shit onto the floor and on everyone else. You continued to explain how fucked up this is and how selfish it is; and when they finish, they always get up and leave after they have unloaded. After you said all that was able to escape from your throat, you went back to your statuesque posture, except for the exodus leg and your left palm wiping off your mouth. After about a minute had gone by, you did exactly what you were complaining about. You verbally unloaded on everyone and everything in the room, got up, and walked out. You did the exact thing that made you angry. I found this quality in you disappointing. After the room let out, like cattle, everyone walked down the hallway, that is when you spotted me. You approached me and introduced yourself. You then started to core dump all of the shit idiosyncrasies of your life upon me. I was trying to be polite, waiting for you to finish, but you did not shut the fuck up, you just kept going, on and on. I finally could not take it anymore, I had to shut you down. I interrupted you. I asked you why you did the exact same thing that made you angry. You smiled and laughed. You said something about we either do what we love, or what we hate. I had to walk away, you are just another fucking idiot.

It is that insecure, lonely, hollow, sinking feeling you get in the pit of your stomach sometimes at night when you are all by yourself. You know exactly what I am talking about, you have felt it before, or you could be feeling it now as you are reading these words. It will be our secret. Besides, I know all of your secrets, I know all of your aspirations, your hopes, and your dreams as well. I know everything there is to know about you, simply because you are reading these words right now. It is hard for you and I to connect with people. So, we keep journals, we keep letters, we keep our words to ourselves. We feel we have not met anyone worthy of sharing ourselves with, this is why we keep ourselves a secret. You understand now, you and I no longer need to keep secrets from one another. We found one another through these words, the words within these pages. You are me, I am you.