~~♥~~

I used to think men
should be more like books
Both you cannot
judge by looks...

If I didn't want to finish reading
I put it down... no heart was bleeding

A book will never fuss or fight
It will stay with you
through the night...

It doesn't smoke. It doesn't drink.
It won't leave toothpaste
in the sink!

It doesn't binge... it don't eat...
It won't leave up the toilet seat!

It don't forget. It doesn't mope.
It won't hog the TV remote!

It doesn't have to have
The last say...
It doesn't have legs

to walk away.

But it's not soft. It isn't warm.
It doesn't keep you
safe from harm.

Even though it makes no fuss
It can't think. It can't discuss.

Even though it has its charms
it can't hold you in its arms.

It doesn't pine. It doesn't miss.
It can't hug and it can't kiss.

So now I think on it again...
... I think BOOKS should be
             more like MEN!!!


SoulSurvivor
2/20/2015

Many people have asked.
And I have turned down the same.
Many people wondered.
And I have ignored the same.

Ask the right questions dear, don't ask for the obvious.
Ask the right question, and I'd answer.

I am NOT an open book.
I hold more secrets than you know.

Ask yourself.
Do you know me?
Or have you known only the image I portray, or the character I play?
Have you wondered what's on my mind if I'm not talking?
Have you figured out the riddles I give you?

The problem with most people is that they weren't really looking.
Not really seeing.
Not really bothering to know why.
And for a few people who managed to "almost" get there fail to ask the right questions.

Don't ask the usual questions.
That will annoy me.
Don't ask for the obvious.
That would bore me.

If you want to get some answers, ask the right questions.

Let me know if you've figured it out.

I'll tell you EVERYTHING.

It's easy to fall in love with someone. To take your white knuckles off of the rails of stability and let yourself land into someone's arms. You'll fall in love over and over again in one lifetime. But you, you were so different. It wasn't like anything I've felt before. You reminded me of the pale moon because you would shed light during my darkest times and you were always picking me up and dusting me off. In many ways you were my own temporary heaven. But I'm afraid I wasn't your heaven, maybe, maybe I was your hell. My demons scratched on my heart and told me to run away. To break your heart and never look back. And that's exactly what I did.

365 days have past and I'm still afraid to look back.  

-BLD

You've only seen what I allow you to see.
Filtered and remains the good side of me.

I've always been a vessel of hope.
But a part of me wishes to break free.
The part I don't want anyone to see.

I am not complaining.
In fact I never once complained.
I know I am loved. I know I am lucky.
It's just, sometimes, I get really really sad.

Stop this sadness, she said.
But right now can I just cower in darkness?
Tonight, let me be weak.
Let me lose hope.
Let me break down.

It won't take an hour, I promise.
Just leave me alone... for tonight.

I wish he can see my weaknesses without pointing it out.
I wish he can see me weak without letting me know.

That way, I can be strong and weak at the same time.
The person I am, and the person I want to be.

I wanted the perfect cake.
With the perfect layers.
With the perfect coating.
But all I got was a stack of it.
A stack of rejects.
Desperately coated to its most presentable.
At its most passable.

It began with the first layer.
After all, I was careful.
Less mistakes.
Less complications.
Less lies.

Braver, bolder,
I crafted the second layer.
More mistakes.
More complications.
More lies.

Annoyed,
I began the third layer.
More and more mistakes.
More and more complications.
More and more lies.

Desperate,
Came the fourth layer.
More and more and more mistakes.
More and more and more complications.
More and more and more lies.

The more I go forth.
The more frustrated I become.
The more layers.
The more lies.

What comes after the layer of cake?
Another layer.
What comes after a lie?
Another version of that same lie.

In the end,
All I'm left with is lost time.
And the gradual worsening of my problem.

Eventually,
I'll find this cake collapsing.
Reminding me that there are limits.
To the amount of tries.
To the amount of layers,
That I can make.

So,
I find myself getting rid of the cake.
In a dramatic scene I form in my head.

You know me,
I won't just get rid of the cake.
I'd get rid of the whole occasion.

You were so real I swear to God.

And so I write and write and write,
Until you become so fictitious and so unreal,
I have to stop believing.

That's how I get rid of love.