Regret @ MindSay 
love
To torture me
Though you may "act like a boy"
You play mind games
Like only an American girl can
I see you sitting at that bench
When you said you wouldn't
Know the PTSD
Know the disease it triggers in me
That black and red plaid jacket
That you've always got
Do you know what would match it?
What I would like to see?
If I grabbed those black locks from behind and pulled them back
Just like we use to play
And cut a line across the front of your pretty little throat
And then watch it bleed away
The crimson would match your skin color beautifully
I think I think
A startling addition to a startling woman
It would match your skin and your red and black plaid jacket
I think I think
Just one slice in your pretty little neck
Watch the dark flow out of your pretty little neck
Its not like I wanted this
Oh no oh no
For what its worth I did love you dearly
But I'd had thoughts of breaking up too, sweety
For what its worth the main reason I didn't want to break up with you
Is so I could still keep fucking the both of you
For what its worth I know now that even if it was just us
It never would have worked
You're too much the gender scripted closet case
But then
The break up may not have hurt
Or hurt so badly
For what its worth you were the first woman to be bold enough to love me
And bold enough to take my love back
For what its worth I know that if you don't want to
You don't have to owe me
Or think of me every time you see the therapist you would have NEVER MET if it weren't for me
Or think of me every time you're with the snobby blonde stick that you love more that you did me
That again you would have NEVER MET if it weren't for me
And for what its worth
What I still with for more than anything else
Is that we hadn't let the lies of a bushwacking, scrub, alci-piece of shit like him
(That woman deserved better)
Put us against each other
And instead
We would work through things
Like adults
And still be friends with each other
For what that's worth
All your life, since you were a wee lad, in bed late at night, after mom and dad had told you more than once to turn off your radio and go to sleep, you lie awake until you hear the din of their movements in the room above die down, and you turn it on again, as low as you can, but not too low you can't hear it. You listen to all types of music, you imagine in your mind the faces as they sing, the players as they play, and in a time before TV came into your life at the age of 11, music is your world. Every chance of solitude you sing at the apex of your breathing, use a tennis racquet or a broom as a guitar, pick up a couple of pencils as drumsticks and flail away, sing into your fist as though it held a microphone. You share these moments with your cousin, the one-day-older-than-you cousin who has a TV yet still prefers introducing you to Led Zeppelin and Rush in the late 70's from The Loop 98 rock radio out of Chicago, the same cousin with whom you formed an air band and instead of playing cops and robbers you played the Monkees in the front living room of a quaint Cicero neighborhood home.
Over the years your love of music only grew, your hunger to play and sing in a band more acute, and every opportunity presenting itself you took on, even when you knew it was for naught. Why? Because you can sing, you have talent and you know it. You can't read a lick of music but can play any instrument by ear, you can learn a song after hearing it one time through. You've imagined yourself on stage, it's been your grandest dream, your fondest hope, your greatest pain of regret.
But the years have passed you by, the dream is all but a flashpan memory, and the pain a stymied dull ache ever pulsing in the deepest caverns.
Tonight, you walked into a room with your two brothers and three other men who are also brothers, all around the same age, same temperments, same humorous sense, same love for music, same lifetime dream for the stage, for the music, for the feeling of playing live, the pulse of the beat you're producing, the melody of the vocal you're singing, the strum of the strings as fingers dance across the frets.
Six men. Two families. Same dream.
There were no tennis racquets, no pencils, no empty fists. Tonight there were three guitars strapped over shoulders, one bass thumping out the deep end, one drumset keeping rhythm by human hands, one voice singing out the words to songs you've waited to play since you were born.
Six men. Two families. Same dream. One God.
Dreams can come true.
Crush
I want to dedicate this blog to anyone who is missing someone. No matter what the reason, military, split up marriages, moving away... what ever the reason you are missing someone, I am sorry.
My brother in law left for Marine Officer Candidate School last Thursay and I have to say, I miss him more than I thought I would.
I feel kind of guilty because I was so worried about my own life that I did not pay much attention when my own brother went over seas back in 2002 with the Air Force. I was interested in things that are evil and deadly. I was so consumed with myself I am not sure that I even wrote him a letter when he was gone. Being the person I am today, (Not missing the person I was), feel awful about it. I know, it was a long time ago and I cannot change it. God changed me and I am reeling over the fact that I was so selfish. I love my brother with all of my heart and want to tell him I am sorry for not being supportive and loving to him when he needed me the most. My brother is strong, he made it just fine without me. But, we could have been much closer now had I paid more attention then.
I commend the people of the United States Armed Forces and their families for the sacrifices they make on a daily basis. Pray for strength and comfort of each of them.
I want to tell you that if you are missing someone in your life God understands. He was without his son for a while (even though he is always with us) and he knows how to comfort us. We just need to learn how to lean on him.
I have faith in my brother in law, I know he is a strong man willing and able to accomplish any feat laid before him! I am proud of him! And, to our family, he is doing something to be proud of, so support him!!
To all of you out there who are missing someone, a loved one, a friend... Please pray for them and ask God to be their guide. Lean on the Christ, he is the ROCK!
God Bless you <><
I mean, people can feel pain and such. They can get attached to people and create something out of it.
I used to be able to do that, but it's hard to remember how, why and when lately. I think I fake my feelings out so much, I just repress everything. I kind of feel like a shadow in a way. At the end of the day, you want to feel like you belong somewhere and feel loved. I just kind of dissapear in my room and think of things. I just stay awake on energy drinks and coffee all night...
Thinking, drawing, writing... watching the time go by.
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