The Writer's Journal
The Writers journal
Alone no one here to see the hurt
I guess you say he took it from me because I wore that low cut shirt
His love hidden behind cartoon sheets
His hands feeling my childhood away dreams
My mouth is close with nails
He told me to never tell
She won’t believe me
Doesn’t believe anything she see
I guess you can call me the runner
The writer’s journal
Pressure my whole fucking life to be someone I’m not
I don’t like football, basket ball or any of that other shit
But my dad disowns a gay who does ballet
The smiles that I wear are fake
For Christ sake
I love him unconditionally
Why cant he do the same
I can give you this story about me not caring im gonna be me
But I cant so I turned it off
Ha, I guess you can say my sexuality now has a lid
With a wife and 3 kids
Call me nocturnal
The writer’s journal
Happiness we all want and will step on anything or anyone no matter the cost
Why do we see nothing but happiness as an outlet?
And we pay the fee
But I’m not blind I can damn well see
I danced in the mirror
Wishing I was on Broadway
Somewhere with buildings and far away
Dreamed of traveling the world
And falling in love with …
With
You
But I didn’t, I couldn’t
I hope you forgive me
I had to marry him
It was for my own sake
Selfish I guess
But true
Nothing change I still am deeply deeply in love with you
I lay in a bed next to a men I barely know now
His cold and business originated just like my father
So I’m sitting here big house and money
No children just this big house
My life is a mistake
I left you in Peru that summer
I still remember
How you smile in your sleep at thought of our dreams
Then woke up and …
I was gone
No letter or a phone call
Im fucking sorry .i never will forgive myself
I swear ill leave him
Only for happiness and that’s you
Shit just writing this is making me more confused
but this is only a journal
and its only life
RIGHT?
I married nocturnal and I guess you can call me the runner
Our life is The Writers journal
© 2009 Kimberly Smith
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