Let Me Not Regret

Let me not regret
Past love lost.
Let me not forget
The final cost.

Let me not decide
To let my thoughts go.
Let me not hide
The over-feeling flow.

Let me not tremble in the night.
Afraid of the things I've given.
Let me not hold to higher light,
And ask to be forgiven.

No sin is there in loving,
And no sin is there in pain.
No sin is there in leaving
The lonely life for love to gain.

I ask a simple question
Of each that I shall meet,
"Will you truly love me,
Then share the agonizing defeat?"

For lovers are the liars
And lovers scheme their schemes
And lovers fall on rocky bottoms
After squandering their dreams.

My Life In Terms of DDR

Left,left left,right, center. CROSS! Doublee..back! Just feel the music,stop thinking about the steps..

This past week of my life has driven me to the point of insanity and walking death. All my fault though. I was the one who pretty much agreed to be in the youth band every other Wednesday. I was the one who tried out for the musical. I was the one who signed up for Honors English. You may say what you wish of my thoughtlessness. What I did not do was know what these things would entail. Practice at 5:00, rehearsal every afternoon till 4 or 5, and a bevy of homework every night and weekend.

But my intent is not to whine, or to explain why I haven't written, or why I haven't had a full conversation with a friend, or why I've let my appearance take a back seat from day to day.

My intent is to tell you,dear reader Left,left left,right,center. CROSS! Double back! has become my life. Some of the time I miss a step, or a whole sequence, but I keep playing-because I sure didn't waste my money to give up, and in the end..I love it and wish to do it again.

Love, MJB

House

We're playing house.
And nothing more.

There's so much underneath.
But we'll leave it, covered by the mat.

And I love you.
But that can't mean all it should.

I should.

Mute

My inability to speak.
Lack of words? No.
Lack of thought? No.
Lack of courage? Perhaps.
My perhaps, meaning yes.

Maybe we will talk.
Perhaps I will try.
Try, try, and for naught.
It's the first step.
But first implies a last.

I would like nothing better
than to never
ever
stop talking with you.
With you.

Open,shut.
Smile,frown.
Cryptic, cryptic wave.
I am my inability to speak.
Being circumstantially mute.

Matters So Much

Lull me to sleep.
And push my boat far away.
Away from this madness and this icky-picky living.
Away from caring about
you, and you, and you.
And your dang opinions of me and how I
act
live
dress
smile
eat
talk
Just let me fly away from all the work and the stress and the temporary.
None of this lasts.
None of it.
Why,pray tell, does it matter so much?