a real letter turned to a poem-

A Rant

You always told me I would grow out of only writing about sad things.

So I tried being funny but it just wasn’t the same.

Cause I still cant make you laugh.. turns out I don’t have a better half.

But I do have 4 quarters; hows that for some change?

I used to have empty pockets..

but now I just have deranged… dreams and convictions.

I have ideas and predictions.

Not about the stock market or weather.

More like the definition of forever.

And I know you say I rhyme too much

and I know I say you don’t care enough.

I think were both right but we’re more stubborn at night

and I guess putting up a fight hasn’t been worth the flight.

But love takes flight.. that’s what I heard once.

And I just try to do what my heart wants.

But you see it’s as bi polar as me and no one has me.

To call them their hippy or drink from my hands.

I guess this was not in our plan.

But did we even have one.. or was it all just illusions.

I know how they all work but I’m stuck in delusions.

You give me reason to write sad thoughts..

you give me a reason to connect the dots.

But in the mean time I have become disconnected.

From the kites I have collected.

All the strings tied to my wrists.

An anchor with out gravity and a million unclenched fists.

This makes up for my lack of self esteem when it comes to being seen.

I guess you could say I have been lying.

That I don’t really want to become a bird.

So I can fly far, far far away from here.

But I would like to have wings and maybe a lover here.

I live in a state shaped like a pan.

Its land locked and cock blocked. And doesn’t believe in yes we can.

But for now its where I am and for now its who I see.

Not that you agree.

And although I’m blind in one eye I can still see every color shape and size.

But the lack of two eyes results in no depth perception.

Meaning I live on uncompleted interceptions.

But there is one exception.

I have a slight sense of direction.

North east south west.

Being in the middle, or suffering from cardiac arrest.

Either way; my heart stops beating.

But I can’t bite the hand that’s feeding.

Me corn on the cob and seasonal depression.

And I save all my money, and I ignore the repression.

But my black market is doing fine.. and the watch on my wrist isn’t for keeping time.

Its for keeping score.

And I think that I’m winning.

And if not then that’s okay, because the room isn’t spinning.

Like it used to. When I thought of you.

all these tie dye dreams that made me scream

and all those paint splattered streets that I never crossed.

Because all my intentions were forgotten or lost.

Its true I have my regrets.. I should have never made a bet.

But I guess I didn’t have much to lose.

And I’ve never been afraid of abuse.

But yeah I have my doubt.

And I have my curiosity.

But most of all I have my generosity.

I’ll give you everything for nothing in return.

But I should warn you about the burn.

I will make an appearance in all of your dreams.

i’ll be dancing to all your screams.

But you won’t get a reaction.

And it will drive you wild.

I should have told you that before you made me smile.

But you did. so it will.

And I cant. So you wont.

But we could. But we won’t.

And he doesn’t. but he should.

And I have seen. What you never will.

And you think. But he does. You weren’t. But I was.