musings and whatnots

i have lost words when there is so much to say. when there is so much to explain.

i wish i could take it back.

the times i have underestimated circumstance. the times i have, with both hands, led myself to my own grave without having anyone push me six feet under the ground because, in fact, i believe they were actually reaching out to help me. the musings when i let myself resign to the belief that this is as good as it gets when i have not started to gather even the slightest inch of courage to step out and really live. not the kind of living that consists of me looking back in hurt and regret for the things i didn't do. for the lives i couldn't save. and for myself that i could not redeem.

i've heard and seen it all. maybe less from the mouths of people; but i've read it and understood some of it from the words delivered in poetry just so it wouldn't suffer of being mundane and people would give time to say that it's different--that this is different. but i've seen it and everybody else does though they, in stuttered sentences and downcast eyes say they don't. faces that tell a story in a second of an instance. small actions that say everything that silence had hidden. it is the kind of truth that inevitably would float to the surface like oil because it did not matter how deep of a water the lies were.

we all can't help but want to find a stop button somewhere and rewind and go back to the times we see behind closed eyes. to change certain things and erase tatooed mistakes, or live them all over again.