JHem

You might think it's normal To erase the words That caused your hurt But crazy To erase the joy Too So it gets to your name And it's no more So no one remembers.

Like I didn't have to hide, At least far by much, The words from my voice. But initiation wasn't mine, Simply reciprocation. Who's to say, Engagement didn't lead to my Excitement for participation. A pink rose to distract, From the hand that pushed. Blinded by memory, Perhaps I forgot, It was tragically difficult.

A shade meant to, Not perhaps as prescribed. Or so public perception inconceive Blocked more than All intents an purposes. Especially to keep it self-contained. Stay deemed Self-explanatory  No no no no! Goodbye Not or Forever Words said but not meant. As if you wrote Japanese, But read in Chinese. As if I spoke Alien Yes, yes, yes, yes! 行かないで！

I dip myself in the mud Following your heartbreak. "Love's brought only misery," "I give up too," I echoed in revelry. Sure an opinion we'd share. But your eyes rebuttalled. Your words argued. Your hands in disbelief. If I were a psychic, I'd be out of the job. 3 years and I hadn't a clue. That maybe, Unbeknownst to me, Faith came not from I, But from your support. So when you wouldn't give me a word, As yours became no longer coherent, And you took your presence out of my life, You took the very assurance you gave.

"It's the right thing to do" Accompany two dangerous words: Certainty, for one. Nothing more than sugar. Believing, doubtlessly we would be, Friends until we no longer breathed. I couldn't help but SCREAM, Having guarantee ripped from me. Assuredness is simply, Stereotype coated in candy. Like a therapist Reading something outdated. Chanting their words to be fated. Of course it's fair to be pissed. When professionals prescribe bias, Because listening makes ideology a mess. Perhaps you may find prediction in a robot, But a human is bound to stir up the pot. Some may say, It's to propel you towards excellence, But to me, It can be an excuse for negligence. So alluring to seek this one out: They call this devil, Potential. Strive until it hurts, Strive until there's BLOOD, sweat, and tears. So the ego may sip it's nectar. Work your bones until death, Work until you're addicted, To meth. You could be, So much smarter. You could be, So much prettier. Y...

It's always been pretty easy for me to know what I want most. I'd simply ask myself, if I had three wishes, what would they be? The sad part is, there's one persistent wish. If I was offered three, I'd only need the one.