As good as it gets

What if this is as good as it gets. What if right now, that's it. That's all you get. You might get more money, or find love, or win a car or buy a boat or have some kids. But for happiness, that's it. You're topped up, no more overflow, thanks for playing, now you can sit down. What if you're not even all that happy anyways. What if you forgot to be happy when you were supposed too, and now it's too late.

Love - the worst drug of all

Love is great when we fall for the right people
Your circle of friends grows with like minded people
Your days are filled with joy and wonder
But love isn't always so convenient
Sometimes you just fall for the wrong damn people
Sometimes you love someone who's gay and you're not
Sometimes you love someone who's in a relationship
Sometimes you love someone who is usually your perfect person, but happens to love ecstasy too
You can't help who you love though
Love is an asshole

High

You never forget that one high
The one that was just so perfect
The world seemed so beautiful and peaceful
And nothing had ever been wrong and could go wrong
These days that's all you're ever looking for anymore
And the closest you ever get is just numbing yourself enough to forget how miserable you are
Because that high wasn't because you were high
It was a moment when life itself was beautiful and you mistook it for a chemical in your brain
And now you're just chasing rainbows that will never come

Melancholy Tea

I write pretty sad and depressing sounding things a lot. It's not because that's how I am in general. I'm not some sad sack who can't even be bothered to form a smile. I've realized every time I write something down, I lose a little piece of what I'm writing. It gets captured into words and leaves my own mind. And every shred of happiness I have, I cling to as much as I can, and share with those I love. But the sadness mostly stays with me. And so I write it all down in hopes that with each written word it will slowly evaporate from me until it is all gone.

Changing with the seasons

You don't see the changes you've gone through. The beauty you exude, like new roses blooming after every long cold and dark winter. Each blossom the result of seeds planted long ago, each a new and wonderful and dizzying dimension added to your life. You don't see them and yet it's reflection is there for you to see every day. The very fact that you think the world has gotten more lustrous and vibrant and full. The world stayed the same, what's grown better is you.

By Margaret Atwood

I would like to watch you sleeping.
Which may not happen.
I would like to watch you,
Sleeping.
I would like to sleep with you,
To enter your sleep as its smooth dark wave slides over my head.

And walk with you through that lucent wavering forest of blue-green leaves
With its watery sun and three moons
Towards the cave where you must descend,
Towards your worst fear

I would like to give you the silver branch,
The small white flower,
The one word that will protect you from the grief at the center of your dream.
From the grief at the center.
I would like to follow you up the long stairway again and become the boat that would row you back carefully.
A flame in two cupped hands to where your body lies beside me.
And as you enter it as easily as breathing in.

I would like to be the air that inhabits you for a moment only.
I would like to be that unnoticed and that necessary. 

I like to write the poems I love over and over again. Typed out or by hand. And really immerse myself in it as I'm writing it. And I believe for just one moment that perhaps I could be capable of producing such beauty too.

The strength to carry on

Some people have called me strong. That I'm brave to have dealt with my life with such calm. I feel like a fraud for it. Strength isn't the reason I can keep going, and treat my trials as if they're nothing. I can deal with it all because for once in my whole damn life, I stopped caring. I stopped caring if I live or die, if it's easy or hard, if it's wonderful or not. I still don't really care. I just do whatever I need to do to feel normal. That's all I ever do anymore. I stopped trying to have aspirations and dreams and fears and nightmares. Every day I wake up and all I want is to feel normal. I go through extra effort, and I exercise, and I drink down bottles of pills and shoot hormones in my veins not to live, but just to feel normal again. Just to feel like everyone else. My radar has shrunk from the decades ahead of me to just the next week. The next day. And what I'll have to do to make sure I don't stick out. That I can make it just one more day without people feeling sorry for me. Without having to feel like whenever I go there's a huge mongoloid following behind me screaming and shouting and throwing a tantrum to draw attention to me.