I know... Its been a while.

Have you ever grown tired of what it is that this mundane life is? Have you ever longed for more than just your typical day? You know what I'm talking about, the routine of dreading from the time you wake up and look at the unhappy person in the bathroom mirror, until the time you see the same person that night in the same mirror after an uneventful, unhappy day. This begins a change in my otherwise "routine" day. I will be logging my day, but more importantly, with this blog I begin the quest to do things that better enrich my life. I have made some decisions that I must follow thru on in the next few years.  To kill the mundane dragon that has yoked my neck since the day I became a "grown up" and became obsessed with paying bills and making money to pay them... This is my quest. I write poetry, I cook, I workout. I have also been working on a few fiction novels, graphic Novels, and I do some woodburning. Probably the sharpest of the swords in my arsenal is my ability to produce poetry. Poetry that causes thinking minds to ponder, free-lance minds to wander, but all minds to wonder. I have tried multiple times to publish my poetry, to no avail. I pull them from publishing at the last moment. I, for some reason, do not believe my poetry is good enough for the rest of the world to read. Although, countless friends and family members offer laud and praise for my "pieces", as I call them, I still do not believe it is worthy to be read in the sunlight. Darkness, in between the binding of my notebooks is where, I believe my poetry should stay.
I have come to realize that I will not be 28 forever, and stars will not shine forever.  Certain events that have recently taken place, that remind me what is important, and showed me what I needed to let go of.
Change never came about in anyone's life without the change in a person's mind. It was never easy, either.
At what point do we realize that the path we chase is not the route we should have taken? For, in life, none can map or plan, and those who do, seldom arrive at the destination that was predetermined, and those who do arrive at their mapped out destination, seldom arrive happy.
I refuse to remain on the destined path I chose for myself. I admit that at this point now, where I stand in my life, I look at the mural that I have painted of my life, and I am NOWHERE near my first intended goal, My dreams dare not even cast a shadow near my reality. My living standard, my profession, my goals and even the people I count dear to my heart have changed. My destiny is no longer predetermined by the circumstances of my life. I will take control of my heart's path, and guide it myself. The challenge: I will do things that enrich my life, and log those events that enrich my life. I refuse to get to the end of my days, just to look back on the days I am living now, muttering the two words that haunt my mind forever. "What if?"

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I bet...

So often we let our past get in the way of our present, therefore obstructing our future. We allow the bad things that happened to us whether in family settings,relationships, or just in general experiences affect how we react in anything similar that follows. It maybe the best survival tool we have as humans...but whats the use of surviving, if we choose not to live because we are so caught up in our defense mechanisms? If we're always defending, then how are we supposed to ever feel again. Everybody has a past. Everybody has a story. Will you let it get in the way of you living your life? If life isn't there to be enjoyed, then whats it there for? Surviving is preservation of life. Living...well, finding that definition is just a part of life... Its as individual as the person and I don't think there is any wrong answer...

I bet...

_____Vs3______

I bet that you think that youre keeping it together well/

you think that I don't notice that your clothes are singed,i know youve been thru hell/

I bet you think I don't understand or I have ulterior motives and this is all just part of the plan, stop./

I'm not here to steal your heart, or fix you up, I'm just here to hold your hand. I know I'm not all you've got/

You clutch your fists together, like its a last defense, knuckles white, forearms tense too/

Against your chest to protect what little pieces of your heart he left you with, two/

You feel betrayed, you feel used, you were in love, and sweetheart, falling in love is not a sin/

Keep your guard up, but hear me...These three words I do not say lightly, nor am I even sure I want to, but here it goes... "I'm not him"

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I Don't usually write about Love

I don't usually write about love... But this had been on my mind for some time. This has been a work in progress for the last 3 days. I know its lengthy, but I hope it keeps you interested enough to feel what had to reach in to draw up when I wrote it.

Love Poem

_______Vs3______

I don't usually write love poems, but if I did, the title would just be your name/

And then I could pretty much be done regardless of what everyone else thinks, it's perfect or would it be Insane?/

Yes, maybe; but perhaps maybe, I would be right./

I could be the sky, you would be my moonlight/

Piercing thru the shadows of my mind, outshining the stars around you/

Yes, sure theyre pretty, but I can't even see them when I'm with you/

With My arms around you, I would always be there for you. I would always be there. For you/

To be with me at all times, so perfect together like nobody can see the sky without the moon./

It just doesn't look right. I would be your constant, but like the moon in the sky at night/

No matter where you were, us together would always look right./

I'm not good at writing about love, I usually draw a blank, crumple pages, and quit when I choke/

But if I were to write about love, I think maybe, this, right here is what I probably would have wrote/

The first time I saw you, my heart made sure that I knew something was different/

It was like, you know that skip that usually happens, well...it didn't/

It was the very first time that my heart actually beat and kept TIME perfectly/

I could WATCH you for HOURS, and any SECOND I found to hold your hand,i would take the opportunity/

My pens usually bleed, they don't usually flutter when I write, because I don't do poems like this, usually/

Seeing you was like a good song, in perfect rhythm, and my heart kept the harmony/

The kind that you can't get out of your head kind of song/

The kind you learn the chorus to, know all the lyrics, record a cover to and never, ever sing it wrong/

The kind of song, frequenting BARS of high notes and harmonies, so simple that itll intoxicate you to a complex/

Song so addicting that you have it on replay and you never go back or skip to whats next/

I want that kind of love. But I don't write poems like that, ever/

I write in circles because true loves end is never/

I want to kiss you on the lips and leave words on your skin that only a blind man could read with his fingertips without fail/

our story of love written in goosebumps in the moment, an unknown feeling, feelings like braille/

When I kiss your hands, i want to taste the rest of my life with you/

A love so blind that it would fall to pieces if we ever separated/

More than just words, more than just status, I would write how your love for me keeps me elevated/

Above the clouds so that rain drops never touch my cheek again/

But I'm not one to write many things about love, me and love haven't really been close enough friends/

To know each other, but I know what I see when I look into your eyes, and I never want this song to end/

I've never written anything like this ever before, but since I met you/

There wasn't even a question how,i just knew I had to/

To put it simply, I was created without a HEART, but God gave me rhythm He gave me a BEAT/

And then He made my HEART into a love and placed it in you, then put us both on earth and intended us to meet/

I don't usually write poems like this at all, and I'm no good at it, you see/

But this love that could be, is us... We were made from the same HEARTBEAT/

I don't usually write love poems, but if I ever did.../

I would start with your name, and, well... That would be it/

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Those who remind me of me

Soul searching has always been a hard part for me. I don't like mirrors because they show me EXACTLY who I am. It's so easy to play the mirror for everyone else, but when it comes to correcting myself, I do what many people do. I lie. I cover the flaw with something subtle or something to divert attention. I've been in a raw state lately. Being brutally honest with myself. It's not pretty, but it is necessary. Reflection is a funny word. It's the portrayal of ones self. I didn't like what I saw when I went back in time in my mind to a very juvenile me. This is one of my demons in the mirror.

Enjoy.

Don't be Me. Be You

______by_Vs3_________

Cease and Desist

Don't be surprised if I snatch that extra piece of pizza off your plate and tell you that you don't need it/

And when you look at me with those brown eyes that could kill a weaker heart, I'll tell you that it feels like your starving,i know, but trust me, you don't want to eat it/

I know what youre doing.

You feed your face to choke the words that you wish to say,/

But have no strength to because youre so full of empty calories that theres no room to breathe to say/

"I'm full"- You feel worth less than the last breath you took, because it still feels like youre sucking crisco thru a straw/

caught up in fear of punishment for being you, out loud/

You turn up the music and the soda, a sorrow binge to mute the sounds/

Of the teasing kids who make fun of your poetry/

Id stop you before you broke all your pencils, thinking "words are stupid" or so it now seems/

That sports are what men do, books are for burning, rip up the flowers that the alphabet form on your pages in ink/

It's a slope from this point, you'll trick your mind to think/

That the only words worth forming are cut downs and insults. No bet./

Quick on your wit, destructive with language, shooting lyrical bullets, a dance you know the words, music and moves too, no sweat./

STOP! Just stop. Words can kill. I would stop you before you found that  out at 17/

Tears falling are what form when words make souls bleed./

She never wakes up, because the words that you spoke/

Were like every single pill that she forced down her throat/

"Ugly" and "skank" everyday for a month is what you called her among others/

And you still have the nerve to go to the funeral to pay "respects" to her sisters, father, brothers and mother/

I would snatch you by the lower jaw reach thru your heart and rip your words from your diaphragm, deflating both your lungs./

To form words you need breath, and you don't need your heart if you continue this way,I was you once, I'm who you become./

Your demons will chase you waiting for you to fail soon/

You become addicted to pain, you melt parts of your soul in a spoon/

Over fear's open flame, and take the syringe of self pity/

And inject it into your veins, tracks on your arm that you think you wear proudly/

Feeling sorry for yourself because you think your deserted/

Dont be who you think everybody wants to see, and you won't become me. And there you have it, crisis averted/

To the boys who remind me the most of me/

Don't fold to the pressure. There is a bigger picture. Trust me, you'll see/

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The Purpose of a Broken Heart

Yes, even painful things have their purpose. I wrote this as a starter piece for a friend of mine to grease her imagination but I was stuck. I didn't know what to write to aid her.Then a process in my mind, that I had been mulling over flooded to me and this piece was born.

The Inspiration for this piece was an old conversation I had with a very wise friend of mine. Heres the scene, I had just gone thru a Nasty breakup, and I told him that I felt like the broken toy that my Ex didn't want anymore.

My friend was calm and reserved, like he always had been, and smoothly replied (paraphrased)

"The broken toys are the best to have around..." a confused expression flooded my face as he continued, "...the broken toys are best, because now, they are no longer what they were before... They can be anything an imagination wants, now"

Knowledge from the King of Clubs.

That was the first time I smiled following that breakup.

Enjoy-

The Purpose of A Broken Heart

__________________

I stopped losing my place, the day that I knew you loved me/

For I had found my way back to love and found all I would ever need/

When your mind and heart are out of place, they work two different speeds/ My heart finally caught pace in the way that I never knew love could be/

I could show you the ways, because it would take forever for me to tell you, I'll spare you the minutes, see/

But honestly, forever would be the exact amount of time I would need to show you what you mean to me/

I could tell you how happy I am, but my smile says it in words that no language even knows/

I could show you how satisfied I am, but that feeling cannot be expressed in prose/

A heart intact is a heart not cracked, and incapable of containing true love/

The heart in fact is broken at times to make room to expand for new love/

For the love that follows is greater than the former love molded can contain/

So a broken heart can heal around the love deserved, and thus eclipse the pain/

-Vs3

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Forgiveness

Ok. Ask 20 people who know me beyond my name and certain easy quick facts, and you will find out after all the "he's really a nice guy", "he's funny", "he's passionate", "he's a recluse", "sarcastic", and "one of the quick witted and biggest jerks you will meet" hooplah. One thing they will all say is, "Kuresa does not forgive easily, and he does not forget"

I used to be initially näive when it came to trusting people. At one time in my life, If you didn't do anything to betray my trust, you had it for life. However, times do change, and dry grow the bones when left in the cold. Now, I'm always waiting for the hurt. It's not a matter of "if you will hurt me", I know it's in the works, it's just "when and with which of my poisons" you choose to utilize. Yes, I doom relationships as they start. All my relationships, in any capacity. Be it friend, acquaintance, co worker, girlfriend, sibling... I find it easier to love at arms length, so when they choose to leave, it doesn't hurt so bad.

When that happens... It's open season for my emotions, thoughts and words to mingle and produce more anxiety, awkwardness, hate, and tension... And I find ways to blame the other person for leaving, even if it was my fault, I CONVINCE myself that it was something you did to spark me in that direction in the first place. This makes it easier for me not to forgive. It's just not been one of the things that I give very well. Don't get me wrong, I don't want the other person to be sorry or to even know that I'm hurting. I just don't want to face the fact that either I was wrong, or that I miss them. Hating them is easier.

I know it's wrong, but in my mind, it's ok, because they left anyway and maybe I was no good or wasnt what they needed in their life anyway. So then, I refuse to forgive myself for ever letting them walk out of my life...

This is the darkest time for me, because I punish myself emotionally, more than they ever did. The greatest feelings in the world are these two things. A mothers touch and unsolicited forgiveness.

It repairs and replaces pieces of my heart that I ripped out in the emotional frenzy, and stops the bleeding and the pain.

The greatest thought that I read a long time ago went something like this:

Forgiveness is the fragrance released by a rose as it's crushed...

I've crushed a lot of rose gardens... I'm aware of my flaws...

Things will get better...i promise.

-Vs3

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Whats on my mind? Are you sure you want to know?

Haven't been able to sleep well lately, and my mind has been flooded with the past. Maybe too much Adele. Maybe I'm at a point in my life where skeletons need to be dealt with. Thats the problem with keeping them in the closet. When you open the door to hide a new one, the current occupants of the proverbial closet are frozen in their dead gaze. Staring and Starting toward the doorway. Hoping for freedom. Gasping for air.

(i know what thats like)

Whats on my mind...Vs3

If I could... I would dig out the memories I have of you, embedded in my brain with a scalpel/

I would cry until my tear ducts dried up and hemorhaged into bleeding tears, just to keep my eyes lubricated/

You asked how far I would go for you, but while I was gone to prove my love, you proved me right, I knew you didn't love me/

I knew it, but I never said anything because the kisses felt right, and you called me "Baby"/

Do you remember this? This place? The last time we were here there were candles, and I gave you a part of me that I never asked you to return/

Well, now I'm back here, without you, no light, and all I wish for now is that stupid piece that I gave you so I can cook it and burn/

It, and destroy it because I'm already hollow without it/

Here I am, trying to find a part of me, lost so long ago that if it stabbed me in what was left of my heart I wouldnt recognize it/

Instead, I'm ripping out every part of you from my mind at the roots, and its not even hurting you/

I'm the one dealing with the pain of you leaving, and still wondering, what did feigning love gain you?/

You were all I ever wanted, the last time I ever wanted to say "i love you"/

I treated you like the last bit of oxygen in my throat, while drowning, trying to hold on to you as long as I could, too/

But no. instead of just dying, you stay immortalized in my pen and notes/

My mind begins to bleed and constricts my throat/

You asked me what was wrong, and thats fair, so I'll tell you/

My words leave kisses on my lips as they stutter and stumble out of my mouth/

my mind stays on fire, burning memories of my love for you, and I'll probably never be able to put it out.

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