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i wouldn’t change the things i’d done. just everything i am, i’d keep the same all the you, i’d keep our lovely plan,

just everything that isn’t right, which is pretty much just me.

i wouldn’t change the way you love me, just make it more deserved, and maybe just the way i look, with nothing left preserved.

just everything that isn’t right which is pretty much just me.

I worked so hard, and made it here,
now every step forwards fills me with fear.
I worked so hard, and made it, now,
I’ve got to work harder and get further somehow.

I’m here now, staring at the future, how did it get there,
I used to know where I was going, so I didn’t have to care.
No I’ve got where I was going, I don’t know about this,
you’d think getting what you want, would be absolute bliss.

I’m working so hard, and it’s not getting better,
thought I’d done it all with that one acceptance letter.
I’m working so hard, and it’s not even begun,
I’m sick of the balance in my bank being so close to one.

And my anchor, the one who makes it all worthwhile,
the one who gives butterflies and makes me smile.
Is subbing me, and helping out and being the absolute best,
everything we want, all the lovely dreams buried by stress.

Is this what I wanted, what I worked so hard for,
Is this what I want, all this pain, stress and more.
I had a vision, of what I’d know and who I’d be,
But three years of this? another game of wait and see.

tangled in your arms, and beauty is your gaze,

all my little wobbles turn to a comfortable haze.

everything i was, when i was just a me,

turned into everything i am, and everything you see.

your words write my poems and your poem rights my world,

and when the page of this chapter becomes moth eaten an curled,

we can write the next one, i’ll make it up in your eyes,

‘cos even when time stands still, love flies.

she’s giving up, they tell me,

jutting had about enough.

she’s giving up they tell me,

her life’s been long, and tough.

she’s giving up they tell me,

she’s seen it all alone

She’s giving up they tell me,

Fading into skin and bone,

She’s giving up they tell me.

But I just see her smile,

She’s giving up they tell me.

But I don’t think they’re right, She’s not given up the fight, not just yet, not quite.

bed as empty as this is like a battle ground to me, throwing my self so many punches i can’t catch them, or even see. i can convince myself of many things, when i’m all alone. and i can begin to feel homesick laying in my own home. and i begin to feel you-sick, for the way you make me feel, wanted, worth it, lovely; i feel like someone real. in my i head i think of me the only way i can, and in my head i think of you, and i’m your biggest fan. but sometimes i feel like i’m not what you thought you had, and sometimes we say things that get me sad, and get you mad. but bed is awful lonely when i’m in it all alone. but i’ve seen the lonely coming, for a couple days i’ve known. so tucked up with my lonely i’ll sleep it all away, and wake up bright and cheery for another less lonely day.

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Sometimes I think I’m just not looking in the right place.

Lost at see with out my anchor to throw,
So many people around, but none that I know.

Washing about, In my tiny little boat,
staying alive, and staying afloat.

Missing being us, missing being young,
not needing to be polite, never biting my tongue.

It’s turned out lovely, we’re both doing great,
but I miss going out early, and coming back late.

I just miss you all, being here, being near,
all the silly plans, growing up our only fear.

I wouldn’t go back for long, just maybe one night,
and stay up talking with you, until sun gets bright.

I’m doing all of this and I couldn’t tell you why,
making lemonade, or giving it a great big try.
I hand picked all my lemons, threw out all my limes,
I wonder why I did it, motivation lacked at times.
I’ve got my silver lining, but no time to spend with him,
and all the things I know I want, their fires burn so dim.
But my fears are doing well, boiling up nice and hot,
and who knows if I can do it, what to do if not.
I guess I trust it’ll all work out, It’ll all be just fine,
After all, that silver lining I have’s all mine.
Just sometimes it seems like a try my best
and still, it doesn’t work, I still don’t pass my test.
I just wish, I had a remote, oh things I’d do,
go back a bit, enjoy it more, then fast forward right through.
But right now, I’ll get on, just bustle through and wait,
‘cos silver lining, darling, our future seems so great.

Source: chickenshit

I guess I’ve never known love in my life, that hasn’t fallen apart.
Either by mourning loves lost or tending a broken heart.
The loss of the one who promised to grow old with her, together,
love stuck in the minds eye, when realities is withered forever.
Or the loss of a friend, that felt so stable, so strong,
but life’s intention, renders your safety net, clearly wrong.

Or, perhaps it’s the broken heart, the husband that left, alcohol burns.
putting a child’s love first, having to ignore your own wants, your own yearns.
The love that never comes, your prince charming from fiction,
the love you invent, that becomes your life, your addiction.
I fear it, the fickle and destructive thing,
I fear all the heart ache, the absolute brokenness it can bring.

Love, instills a fear so deep, the fear I fear the most,
that the love I’ll fear, is for your shadow, your memory, a ghost.
That you’ll leave, you’ll be taken, or this isn’t true,
the love I fear, is the loss of you.
Carrying on as one is something I won’t imagine,
the pain and emptiness is something too deep to fathom.

My point of reference, all from which I can draw,
That somehow, I’ll be alone, I wont have you anymore.
That you’re my grandad, my best friend, my dad, a story book man,
So I feel that I enjoy love just as long as I can.
Racing towards goals, in our short, sweet borrowed time,
waiting for that day, when the only smile I have, is at the thought of when you were mine.

More to write about than ever before,
about you, and how much I love and adore.
But less time for inspiration, so much more to live,
less time to hold grudges, more to enjoy and forgive.
I’d prefer to spend my time curled up in bed with you,
than go out and paint the town and spend a bob or two.
Time apart with the girls, and a lovely night in,
a few drinks, no clubs, takeaway left over in the bin.
But back at home, a man, just for Me,
with hug and a kiss, perhaps even a cup of tea.
I love you, it’s been written, even by myself,
but my spirit and soul has never meant in such good health.
I’ve got it all sorted out, even the tough bits up ahead,
as long as I’ve got a you in my life and a nice warm bed.
I’ll get through them all, the trials and worries now,
and I’ll thank you in time, I hope, somehow.
With the ones that lasted holding my hand,
and the one I really fell for, my lovely Man,
I’ve more to write about than ever before,
but less time to write it, and more to live for.

I’m out of sorts and I need sorting out,
I’m not quite right with out a doubt.
All this and that, here and there,
Nothing too much, I shouldn’t care.

Seems so silly, the stuff I hate right now,
Went from alright, to despising myself somehow.
I do alright, I’m not that bad,
He’s so perfect, he must be mad.

DON’T want to talk about it, I’ll sort it all out,
I’m not quite right, with out a doubt.