take me home

I never wanted to be there 

And you can’t say that to them

Because they’ll never see it 

But when I walk by that house i feel it calling out to me 

But sorry I can’t love you 

Someone won’t let me 

It’s time to try to leave again 

Because I want this to be a place to come back to when I’ve moved on 

When I’ve grown and found me again 

I can come back home 

Maybe in the night when no one knows 

It took 3 and you felt like the one 

I just knew 

When I move, I know now. 

I have to sleep in that room for a while 

And the first months will feel hard and alone

But then overnight it’ll feel like mine 

Because my mind will think about all thats wrong 

Or how life is not what it used to be 

And ill always paint the past as this savior 

When in reality in the past I was just pining for the past before 

How do I break this cycle 

But with you I just knew 

It was like a hand guiding me 

Love is a choice and on some deep level I cant argue that I must have made the choice 

But really it seems like it was meant to be 

And bigger forces were guiding me to you 

Because my mind for the first time stepped aside 

When I reached out to you I didnt think about it I just did. 

When we talked I didnt think about it, I just talked 

But you remained 

Beause of our bubble of forever 

We are always together 

In the atmosphere 

Floating above the earth plane 

Holding hands 

Where time doesnt exist so it all just is 

We are above the what is 

Because you come to me in dreams 

I haven’t met you but I know you 

It’s strange, where are you?

I’ll be in a bar somewhere out west 

Wearing cowboy boots with little shorts and a tank top. Making drinks. Having fun. Being free. Far away from my childhood back east 

You’ll see me and over sometime we will be dancing to country love songs 

Or maybe I’ll meet you in the English country side 

Where gardens grow and castles are made of stone here and there throughout the land 

I’ll be a writer 

But either way you’ll be the same 

Because I’ve dreamed of you but I haven’t met you 

But I made it out alive 

From the sadness I felt, where on some days 

I thought I was going to die 

Even though now, my fear has come true 

I never wanted to forget the feeling of loving you 

I can look back and see how much time has gone by 

but im ok...

Still alone, and sometimes wishing I could feel that love for you 

Still hoping maybe one day 

I wil be gifted with the chance to love you the right way 

For you to stay, and me not push you away 

I love the ocean, I love the streets leading to the beach 

I love the summer green trees and warm nights 

I love the slow fall days 

"you have a magical soul" they observed

"I feel magical..." I whispered,

You can hear it in his voice, a tone I havent heard before 

Love and adoration, softness and familiarity, in a world of their own he falls into 

Im surprised he even noticed I left the room 

I dont know who he really is. Only the part of him he shows 

To strangers hes just met 

Not the true version of himself he shows to those who knows his soul 

Who he loves with his heart 

His friends and family back home. 

Sometimes I forget, he makes it so easy acting so friendly 

creating a connection we seemed to share, but I dont know if it is real

Hes good at having acquaintances and making them feel like theyre more 

this heartbreak is my mistake because he's given me clues in between the heartfelt words 

when he said he won’t think of me once we part ways,

The way he compares me, out loud, to her

Her pretty freckles and her love for foot massages how shed be jealous he's giving me one now 

I think we are both confused, because when Im fucked up 

I see my first love’s face on every guy in the room 

I look around in wonder, because I was so caught up in the moment and not thinking about anyone but the person in front of me

I guess my heart and soul both know what I want more 

and its my mind that is the one caught up in him

we are both on the same page, not loving each other but other people

so a message to myself

i’m racing the time i think i never have

what am i running from

what do i think I’m missing

everything

i always wonder why i sometimes forget to breathe

whats making me hold in the breath

that our body needs

my eyes are always cast down

and i shuffle along everything a blur

what am i heading towards

the anxiety builds inside of me

ill be fine and then so quickly it changes its mind

i can’t figure out the triggers

the one with the most insecurities hides it

over compensates with loud obnoxious behaviors

and then inside is cursing themselves for

what they’ve just said

inside the mind is torturous

bringing them down for every action made

so many insecurities

and i like to think i hide it so well

i don’t wear makeup

but its not because I’m comfortable with my face

its because I’m afraid i wont like what i see or be happy

i don’t want to have to come face to face with reality

that even with makeup i’m no where near pretty

i know that when I start to think negatively about other people

and when i become the most annoyed or upset with things around me

I am unhappy with myself

and my mind is not at a place of peace and love within

I met an artist who couldn't paint in the moment. Who woud have to wait until a part of her life, a chapter of her life was complete, and then she could look back and paint moments from that chapter. Why is it hard to be inspired by the present moment, to live in the present moment from the heart and create?

Now I understand. Because I'm thinking "why didn't I write in a journal at the day's end about what happened that day?" Because I'm a past thinker, I'm always thinking about the past. So while the present is happening I'm thinking about a past. So now, because my days in Canada are the past, I can fully divulge into it, see the story that formed. The present to me is always about dissecting my past.

and I see the birds soaring high 

My chest feels lighter 

I can take a breath 

They remind me 

They remind me 

They remind me 

There is so much more