I have nothing to offer. I want to shave my hair of the locks that have earned me the name "happy fun hair". The one folks people once thought to always be happy. Someone to count on for a laugh and a hug. The one who has a cup of coffee ready in hand to those who seek it.
Words is all that I have to offer. Words on a pages in books. Words and thoughts that rattle in my head since the age of 17. The sights of city lights do not calm me. My only comfort the doll hold at night as I cry to sleep. The answer not found in a bottle of booze. The taste of coffee a distant memory like your touch. A ripped t-shirt of Jane's addiction a badge of honor from days gone by. A new black flag saved in a box till now.
Pages turn yellow with words written from a bright eyes boy who once had innocence. Hair that has been many colors of the rainbow now just another painful reminder. Shave I say, maybe you can be someone else. Burn the pages of your books and your words your thoughts, burn what is you. All the music I listen to another reminder of pain. Every show I watch trying to numb the pain just increases it.
You made me feel safe. You made me feel whole. You made me feel love. I took risk once more with you as my strength. You were the one. I will never be the same. The shakes take hold of me more and more. Even now my hand shakes uncontrollably. I have not heard your voice in many a moon now. Wanting to talk to you. Wanting to hold you again. wanting to be with you.
I tried my best in my mission to myself. In many ways I have archived what I wanted. Though it does not matter if I do not have you. I never want to grow old with any one but you. Well its too late for me I will never be the same as I once was. I don't know what I will become. I don't know where I will go. What I do know is I will die alone like everyone else does.