Changing Song

That changing song, the worried mind.

The unsteady being,

The erratic beathing,

That hurtful beating.

That changing core,

Throbbing mind.

All with this changing song being sung.

The tearing of my heart,

But sad, for that lack of bleeding.

That ripping feeling.

The pain without that end.

I don’t want much.

Won’t ask too much.

Give me this.

This change of song.

This silent end.

Being, Breathing, On The Outside.

Being, on the outside,

Alone and helpless,

Wanting to share,

Wanting to be more than being.

Wanting to express,

Wanting to be there,

To be able,

To share myself with another,

To confide,

And be confided in.

To be,

To share,

To love,

To feel another’s pain,

To help even slightly,

Even if not.

To help bear that pain.

Someone I can be with,

And they want to be with me.

Never Enough

Never enough, how you hurt me.

Never enough the way you use me.

You keep me.

You rip me apart.

You leave me for dead.

Easier for you,

Barely living means I can’t leave.

Can’t walk, always caring. Always hurt.

Leave me alone.

Leave me to live.

Take this pain, this burden from me.


Please let me be.

I feel bad hurting you.

I feel bad as you joke around and try to include me.

Maybe you don’t see what you do,

Maybe you don’t mean what you do,

Maybe it’s all in my own head.

I cannot tell.

I just cannot tell.

Just the story of this NiceGuyAndHisDemons.

Memory as Your Worst Enemy

Memory as your worst enemy,

Remembering something once said,

Something once heard,

Throwing your world into spirals,

Upside down in turbulence.

Hurt and hating.

This is when those memories are your worst enemy.

Taking your last friends from you,

Turning you against those you once held close.

Why is this?

Why do I remember?

Take this enemy from me

Dichotomy of Feeling in Love


A dichotomy of feelings,

The pain, the love and care, all hand in hand,

Hurting, living.


Do I feel this way?

All of these ways.

The happiness of seeing your smile,

Laughing together, singing, living in peace.

Loving life,

Feeling warm.

With the snap of an instant.

The hurt person,

The manipulation,

The pain caused.

The being used, the irrational thoughts.
All to fade away.

For me, this dichotomy of feeling doesn’t fade. Merely gets replaced by the other side, and replaced again.

I am left.

With this dichotomy of feeling in love.

I Was That

I was that,

I was your play thing,

Your toy,

The thing to throw around,




I was the thing you discarded,

Only to be picked up when holding a potential use.

I was the person always there.

I was held on to when needed.

Oh how I walked into it every time,

Hand outstretched every time,

Always used and discarded.

I am not a toy, I have feelings.

Hard to see that, in a toy.

Always my hand outstretched.

Always either used or left.
Never mind,

I was all that.

And continue to be.

For now.

Waiting for the moment.

When I am not all that.