As i sit under the lemon tree

 I don't have the courage to die, I'm a coward 

I don't have any more faith left in me to have faith in someone else 

I have tried, to believe that there is a someone 

a hero, to save me.

And somewhere in the midst of all these endless attempts 

I've, died.

Have you ever felt like you deserved more than you already have

Do you believe that every miserable feeling you have up until now felt was meant to make you more endurable more enduring. Or perhaps there is a reward for standing in such vile storms.

*sigh* 

Like the world owes you for the brutality and all the evil things you've experienced up until now 

And it is the same everyday, a plus to a meaningless power.

Pain doesnt make people strong no one deserves to feel like shit.

"born fresh to suffer"

Never expecting, never deserving

And all else believe and think you've matured from all the childish happy things 

But that is not it, right? You've been made so weak by situations around you that you put up walls 

Protecting you from everything even the happiness that rarely shows itself.

Because you know...

It isn't yours.

But we are fed- lies and poetry

So to the poet 

That never wrote himself a poem

The lover boy

Too engulfed by love to love himself

To the girl always seeking love

With no intention to give it

To the dog that never stood guard

And left his master's house in ruin

To the sister i lost, to whom my heart longs

She who never lived enough to love me

To you, reading this in hopes you find relevance

Yet still you look at me differently 

To me, the boy who never had confidence

And yet expect enough of a world to bow

as he majestically put together these words

It is but a poem in the coming of spring

In hopes of more winter.

Where is the love that i have dreamt

Where the hopes of a childish heart soft enough to be naive

can love freely and be loved with a love it longs

and you, yes, knowing forever only lasts so long

you decided to love not at all.

....

you have experience

your heart has been bruised before 

and yet you hope only to return the pain

causing even more pain

...

 Can you love me

again i ask

forever?

Say, Ray, yes

and my naive little heart

will jump only to those words

forgetting how much of a lie they are...

but im afraid to die

Im a coward with a long history of emotional brutality

and yes if i could...

i would slit my own throat right at the edge of a cliff

for i am broken, battered and squeezed into God only knows what

a mere reflection of a loveless past

im a fraid to die but if i wasnt

i would now and be free of these emotions of you.

Love me...

Oh love me do.

...