May 28, 2012
Heaven

If I expressed my true emotions nobody would like me, everybody would spite me,
But I tell the same girl I love her even though I know that she might leave,
What can I say, I pushed her away,
But I need her like these drugs in my veins,
So maybe she’ll hate me the morning,
Maybe I’ll never be good enough,
Maybe I don’t give a fuck,
Maybe I do,
maybe I’m living off lies, wishing these sins weren’t true,
Maybe I wish I wasn’t talking about you,
You build me up, I tear myself down,
My ego delicate, your embrace less than excellent,
You call me irrelevant, when your love’s what I revel in,
Yet I’m so used to isolation, I don’t know what I’m saying,
I’m stupid, I’m foolish,
How could I do this,
I’m losing my mind with you by my side,
And you don’t even notice, I wish you would notice,
But you told me how things would be,
So just like with everything I blame myself, and only me,
That’s when there’s a problem with my philosophies,
Cuz I am god, this shit is my fault,
So I don’t deserve happiness,
I shouldn’t attempt getting close to a human,
In love with ideas that tear me apart,
My mind masochistic,
My mouth hasn’t been the same since the moment you kissed you it,
Wish I was mortal,
Wish I gave myself a chance,
I call your name, but you aren’t there to listen,
So to you my feelings are merely fiction,
So I write a novel on your body with my hands as we sink into your bed,
But I never write fairytale endings in my stories, and I won’t do it with you,
So be violent with me, make passion bleed out of my lower lip,
Suck my dichotomy,
Because I’m two, too much for you,
Too much for me, too much of a lost cause,
Poise yourself because I don’t know control,
Take care of me because you want to, not cuz I need it,
But yes I fucking need it,
But fuck elation, I can last without it,
My mind so blurry, eyes so clouded,
Drugged out god, wrath on myself,
So I’ll save you your innocence before you fall into my version of heaven…

(All rights to this material are held by the author, Gregory Goodrich. Do not use this material without direct written consent of author.)

May 24, 2012
Dedicated to Desire

The love you have for me is like drops of water slowly eroding away at my soul,
permanently engraving your name on my heart.
I can’t sleep at night as the thoughts of you litter my brain
until I want to scream your name,
wishing you were here with me.

See when I talk with you,
I not only think about what I’m doing,
but who I am,
you give me a reason to believe in myself,
when that’s something I had given up on.
There’s almost regret when I think about
how quickly I fell for you,
now I can taste how badly I want you
each time I lick my lips.

Your formidable kiss, a worthy adversary
to the resistance I tried to show,
It wasn’t really worth it cuz now
I’m grasping at what I don’t want to let go.

I can see it fading, like a mirage I didn’t want to know,
like you’re an oasis in the middle of the desert,
and I just want to drink in the radiance that reflects off your soul.
You splash me with the sense of desire when our eyes connect,
you leave me wanting more.

You say you get nervous around me
and it makes me feel enlightened and ecstactic,
I want you to feel the rush of a thousand tides when I grab you by your waist,
when I look at you for more than what you are on the surface,
so maybe one day the feelings you’ve come to have for me will surface.
Until then a simple goodbye will have to suffice.

So when you ask for my heart I’ll have it ready,
carved out, in a box, waiting for your approval.
I want your approval.
Feel the cavity you’ve left me,
feel what I feel for you,
feel the blood trickle down your fingertips
and spell your name on your arm,
because you are a part of me.

I often wonder about how things could be if I was normal,
if I wasn’t such a detriment to your being,
I wonder if what I have to offer even matters to you,
and you’re what matters to me.
You’ll be the death of me, yes you’ll be the death of me.
Bleed me dry.

I want you to scream my name til you have no voice,
til you have no choice
but to admit that you want me
as much as I want you.

But then again why would you…

(All rights to this material are held by the author, Gregory Goodrich. Do not use this material without direct written consent of author.)

May 22, 2012
Finding You

I neglect myself,
you protect yourself,
but we both fall apart at the same pace,
running towards heart but you’re in a different place,
I don’t know where to start, and you don’t know what to chase,
and I’ve been chasing pills with Henny, yeah I can’t feel my fucking face,
but I know I want you now, and you always wanting space.
I just want to be there for you, give you what you thought didn’t exist,
make every night feel like the first time we kissed.
Feeling the nerves in the beats of your heart, my palm against your bare skin,
give you butterflies when you look into my eyes.
You unravel in my grasp, probably fell for you too fast,
and now I don’t want to see you become part of my past.
You’re still second to none, but I want this to last,
you’re heart is still broken, well I’ll be your cast,
mend broken promises with more than my hands,
put the pieces back together and see where this lands.
And I’m a realist, things might not always go the right way,
but it’s all worth it in the end just to see a smile on your face…

(All rights to this material are held by the author, Gregory Goodrich. Do not use this material without direct written consent of author.)

April 28, 2012
The Other Room

Disappear Here

“I break everything I touch, so when you come near me begging for my embrace, I won’t deny you, but before you know it you’ll be broken and loathing the very idea of ever trusting another human being…”

Full Hearts & Empty Cups

“Fuck all this that’s missing, you’re gonna miss me, again, you’re gonna be reminded that what you thought you hated about me was only in you. I don’t give a fuck whether the glass is half full or half empty, just fill it up…”

The Other Room

“Once she realizes that I think I’m in love with her, she becomes attainable, and once attainable my feelings vanish. Yet my lust does not, therefore I continue to play the game until I get in too deep and my insecurities meet my ego while I stare in her eyes. Dashed by her gaze I finally come to the conclusion that I am not fit to love her, so her companionship becomes that much more enthralling…”

City Lights

“Our love like an elegant game of chess, silent advances, an inner struggle of the mind, over thinking what’s in our hearts. Illusions of grandeur, disillusions of myself; I propel you into darkness, I devour light, I am everything you hate to love…”

Your Birthday

“I begged her not to fall for someone like me, while she insisted that I let her love decimate into grains of salt in my hands. The dilemmas I now faced were so concrete and she was just a rose rising from a crack that stood right before where I stepped, her expressions begging for affection, my hesitation the only thing keeping her from being crushed. My malignant ideals piercing her eyes, those amazing eyes, corrupting them more and more with each passing moment.”

Blame Game

“‘Why do we fight about everything?’ she asked. “Well I’m guessing it’s because we really, really care about each other mixed with the fact that we are two emotionally incompetent human beings who are almost so similar it’s scary; and then finally because we are constantly trying to push each other away, trying to find excuses to make every interpersonal relationship crash and burn before they have a chance but secretly want the exact opposite and until then we shall treasure each other like fine wine that resembles the very blood you draw from your wrists…’”

Undress To Suppress

“I would tell her, ‘From this moment on, don’t ever tell me how you feel, for the heart knows no vocabulary and the soul knows no bounds; I want to be able to feel every emotion in the twists of your tongue, the shivers on your skin, and the lack of breath in your lungs.’ She listened intently; her conviction to me seemed so idiotic, so unintelligent, yet so fucking real, like I was someone she had longed to meet her whole life and I was just wishing we never had. I was reliving without consequence, she was reliving her biggest mistake. She believed me once again, the lies I told her grasped graciously at her low self esteem. I didn’t complain, I didn’t feel bad. I didn’t feel anything at all…”

Infinity

“Everything I loved is a lie, everything I lie about I love, every time I wander about love and lies I just end up thinking about you. See I’ve always been a risk taker, we’re all gonna die eventually. I always thought it was a race, was I wrong?”

Like A Silhouette

“What is the difference between shadow and silhouette, they both represent a tangible illusion of reality, an incomprehensible reflection of creation, imagination of self, and other, and you, and me, and us. We are limited to shadow, to silhouette, to darkness; but what if it were all to come to light? Would it be a mirror image of sin and lust, or a speechless revelation of what we really are? Or both? When I lose perceptions of reality I become true to myself. When I gain consciousness I lose anything that really matters…”

Already Gone

“Yeah I’m seeking your reassurance, but draw you to despise me, try to pull you because I can’t, find me searching for what either doesn’t exist or is substantially unobtainable. Melodic mania, tasteless thoughts, rushed interpretations, misplaced misinterpretations, sickening shadows of self. I woke up on the wrong side again, I woke up on the run, so desperately pleading with myself to conclude somewhere, to be something. You ask me what I’m doing, I ask you where you are, we decide to meet at a place where hardship doesn’t exist, where lust is all…”

The Void

“Love isn’t innocent, love isn’t passionate, love isn’t substantial. You wanna know what love is Madelyn? Love is the most beautiful deception, the most eloquent disaster, and the backbone for every lie I’ve ever told you. So Madelyn, you tell me, do you still want love? Love and death have so much in common, once you discern the similarities, living becomes more of an anxiety than a pleasure, heartbreak becomes a thrill…”

Concerto No. Mine

“This is just my mind running free, creating words like oil based pictures, each one like a separate blade of grass, and that blade seeps into the edge of your finger making you one with what you’ve come to create, and now you youthfully watch it disband into in-cohesive individualism of nothingness that you’ve been following your whole life…”

Closed Doors

“Incompetency is our greatest fear, so we close doors, close our hearts and minds hoping that we’ll become blind to the timeless manifestations of inner-struggle with expectancy and complacency. We try to find the that line of equilibrium, like an equator to the soul, like a drink from the river Styx. We always strive for perfection, we always come up short, and your love has always been my Achille’s heel…”

(All rights to this material are held by the author, Gregory Goodrich. Do not use this material without direct written consent of author.)

March 13, 2012
A letter to the girl who told me she wanted to commit suicide

I cared more than I thought I did. I wrote that first line about a hundred times, typing then deleting then retyping. It’s probably a pretty good metaphor for the indecisiveness that has plagued my life. I cared more than I thought I did. You told me you wanted to kill yourself, my throat choked up instantaneously like an allergic reaction. Your words held some kind of toxin as I ingested them they made my stomach twist. I wonder, why me? Why tell me? I am I really that important to you that by some chance I could be the last one you talk to? I don’t really know if I’d be able to handle that burden again, but what choice do I have, you forced me into a corner, forced images of horror into my head, forced me to care more than I wanted to, more than I thought I did. So as these shivers run down my spine radiating throughout my body I look down at my phone every couple seconds, watching the minutes pass as if each one truly held eternity in its hands. 12:44, 12:45, 12:46, 12:47, 12:48. Each second carrying death’s whispers, and I heard these whispers before, like loud screams, like a little girl who fell off the monkeybars for the first time, and the shrill sound pierces a dagger into my heart. I experienced this before, the edge slides effortlessly into a hole that has already been opened, like I was some kind of slut, like my wounds were a free for all and this was just your turn to take a shot at me. So if you want to kill yourself then drown in my thoughts, choke on my dreams, suffocate on my love for you, just don’t leave, just don’t leave…

(All rights to this material are held by the author, Gregory Goodrich. Do not use this material without direct written consent of author.)

March 9, 2012
Appreciation

I daydream about being the reason for the slightest curve in your smile,
about being able to whisper life into all the broken promises you’ve ever heard,
about giving you something time can’t take away,
so that 20 years from now when they talk about how global warming fucked us over, you’ll still remember the day I froze your heart,
how it still skips a beat every time you hear my name.
I want you to be a piece of me, like the one Lego you could never find at the bottom of the box when you were a kid,
I want to be there to wipe every tear off your face like you’re bearing the weight of a cross,
and I would wear a crown of thorns if that would make me your king.
I want your insecurities to melt when you put your hand in mine like a handful of M&M’s on a hot day,
and on that very same day I want you to have chills when you hear my voice.
I want you to embrace me like you’d never see me again every time I leave the room and be my muse to every word that ever touches paper.
I’m so infatuated with the thought of you that I want to kiss you til all my inadequacies slither their way down your throat just so you’re reminded of me every time you breathe,
I want to touch your skin like a blind man learning to read Braille for the first time, delicately, like you’re really that important to me.
I want to hold your emotions in my hands like butterflies, like I’d try my hardest to never crush them,
I want to treat you so damn good that you want me back every time your next boyfriend calls you a bitch.
I want to strangle your heartache til it can no longer speak,
I want to hold onto the moments I saw your face without a tinge of sadness,
I want you to make snow angels on my soul,
I want you to scour your fingertips across my chest and attempt to sync your heartbeat with mine,
I want you to love me, I just want you to love me…

(All rights to this material are held by the author, Gregory Goodrich. Do not use this material without direct written consent of author.)

March 4, 2012
Paintings of Perspective

You make me care when I don’t want to,
so fuck the spellbinding ways of your tongue.
I feel your words like the sting of a jellyfish,
and I brace for the worst when I hear your voice.
I wouldn’t mind letting it kill me,
just as long as it was fast.

Portraits of unsung memories,
feelings that go unmentioned,
torn apart agendas that make me happy,
that make me feel like I’m worth something to you.
But then we go back to the eye of the beholder,
and I am just a blind man who is lost.

I need your attention more than your love,
I need my narcissism more than your heart,
I need you, I need you, I need you.
No I don’t, the vulnerability you’ll never see,
I struggle with the thought of you everyday,
and the only time I feel good about myself is when I can’t feel my face.

Drugs that are laced, that I rely on more than you,
because you’re not always there.
So maybe I hurt you because I love you,
maybe I did this because I hate you,
maybe I’m a slave to my own indignations.
Maybe I never had the qualities you wanted,
yet you stick around waiting for the realization that I won’t change,
because I’m way too god damn stubborn to get out of my own way.

I want you like splattered red paint on a white wall,
like a scattered surge of thoughts released in one motion.
I want to be able to feel the texture of the disaster in your eyes,
I want to be the cornerstone of your sentiment,
and the last impression on your heart.

(All rights to this material are held by the author, Gregory Goodrich. Do not use this material without direct written consent of author.)

March 2, 2012
The Art of War

I put myself on edge for you.
Jagged cliffs, so sharp, a steep fall.
I obviously didn’t learn my lesson
last time with a girl that managed
to fuck with me the same way you are.

I’m repeating all the same mistakes,
doing it purpose because I like the pain,
or maybe because I think things will change.
They never really do, I never really cared.
Circles, circles, circles.

I always tried finding excuses to escape,
you never really had any attention to pay,
you never really gave me a reason to stay,
so each time we look in each other’s eyes
the tension is only surpassed by my ego.

I told myself this would be easy,
but I made a mistake by telling you that I cared.
So now silence is an accomplice
to the enemy I’ve made of you,
and this war is just like any other.

Using everything I’ve learned about you against you,
playing on your insecurities, driving you away.
Losing faith in what we had, questioning whether it was anything at all,
I make you feel bad, it makes you want me more,
and it has become clear I’m more interested in conquest than you…

(All rights to this material are held by the author, Gregory Goodrich. Do not use this material without direct written consent of author.)

February 21, 2012
Burial Grounds

The last regret I had was 3 years ago today, because that day I realized regret is a childish thing,
and no child should ever be responsible for planning a funeral.
So I was forced to become a man within a couple of hours,
I didn’t show pain, it came easier than I expected,
losing all emotion, becoming disconnected.

Going out shopping, shopping for tombstones,
picking out the suit I knew would be stained,
stained with memories, vivid fucking memories.
So many fucking people, many I didn’t know,
standing in pews, under a church I didn’t even believe in.
A sea of black, poisoned with hues of flowers.

Everybody was sympathetic, everybody seemed to care all of sudden,
I noticed I never wanted people to bring that upon me again.
I didn’t need their help, I didn’t want their empathy,
they didn’t understand, I didn’t want them to,
they couldn’t really see the transformation I was going through.

So what the fuck is regret? What the fuck is fear?
I saw my dad in a casket when I was only 17,
And I carried that casket, trying to force tears,
Trying to show these people what they came to see,
I couldn’t do it, I couldn’t feel anything.
It changed me into a monster, it made me grow up quick,
It showed me that this world really isn’t shit.
So what the fuck are feelings, I never showed weakness,
buried my heart that day, told them they could keep it…

(All rights to this material are held by the author, Gregory Goodrich. Do not use this material without direct written consent of author.)

February 14, 2012
Lost

It is so hard for hardened souls to reach out their arms
to grasp what is not tangibly there.

Broken hearts, broken promises, and broken ideals,
they have all come to mold the beauty I see in you.

So tell me you’re scared even though I already know it,
let’s exchange stories, let’s exchange the scars we’ve come to have.

You say love is like a treasure hunt and I tell you it doesn’t exist.
You tell me you’ve found an ‘X’ on my heart and I can’t help but look down,
I see your fingertips grasping at what isn’t mine or your’s to hold.

You become apathetic to my plights,
you stray away from boundaries you told yourself you’d never cross,
so I see you as lost and you see the same in me.

Two travelers without maps, going wherever the tides of the seas decide,
unfamiliar territory with the each breath shared upon each other’s necks.
For not to long ago, you wished for this,
the feeling of being in my arms disregarding innocence.

Hostility in your kiss, apprehension on your tongue,
I risked nothing but old emotions that are long since become numb.
You bet your vigorous heart on times that were not set in stone,
You look towards horizons wishing you could touch them like you touch me.
One minute I beg you to stay away, the next I’m embracing the our exchanges.

We are mere mortals, never satisfied with the present or each other,
so we put all our eggs in one basket and throw them to the ground.
Our hard shells break, and we do this because we know treasures will be burned,
memories will be lost, time will run out, feelings will get hurt, hearts will be shattered,
moments will become our vantage points to set up sniper rifles for a perfect shot at each other.
The thing is, we’re okay with that…

(All rights to this material are held by the author, Gregory Goodrich. Do not use this material without direct written consent of author.)

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