Except happy.

I'm forgetting what it was like before.
Who I was, how played my mind.
I have flashes, brief clips of memories,
But they're getting harder to find.
I even sometimes wonder,
If they are even real,
And not an image I projected,
To cover the 'really feel'.
In the time of statutory reflection,
In the time of look ahead,
I'm stuck for what to aim for,
Except happy, healthy and not dead.

Gist.

I have no idea if you think this is normal.
I have no idea if you think this makes sense.
Whether this sort of life is light for you,
Whereas for me, it's heavy, dense.
I feel a cloak, a thickening mist,
And I have no idea whether you get the gist,
Of the things I do and do not say,
Because I'm always here.  I always stay.

Easier apart.

These are the days that warm my heart.
They shouldn't, because we're really apart.
It's that these are the days that bring less stress.
I'm happy, relaxed.  My head's not a mess.
These are the days where you can't disappoint.
We can flutter through moments without needing a point.
We can laugh and have fun, do it just for the joy.
There's no one to displease, no one to annoy.
The love is there, deep ingrained in the heart,
But I can't help feel it's easier apart.

Impasse.

Impasse.
Our always,
Our every days.

We have floated,
Or driven, So far apart,
I question if that was us at start.

We see such different a view.
It's like we truly don't get,
Why we feel what we do.

We are silent in slow burning anger.
Polite through the things we should say,
And so we are moving, constantly moving,
Further and further, and further, away.

Heart shade.

I do not like that I am suspicious.
I do not like that I quick jump to blame,
But following another encounter,
I find us here again.

I question your intentions,
I question your heart, and its shade,
And as I do so, I question myself.
So self belief, and self love, tend to fade.

I need time with people who shine,
I need me the people who glow,
I need the people who love me,
So the right path can, once again, show.

Happiness thief.

The kind of day that typifies.
You probably see it in my eyes.
I do my best to keep it in,
As I ride this train with my head full spin.
As the outsider, dangling on the edge,
Though you undoubtedly see me as the wedge,
I stare, sometimes in disbelief,
At things you've said.  The happiness thief.

When things are running smoothly,
And I begin to breathe, relax,
You toss in a word or two of meanness,
Like a Viking throwing axe.
Then they pick up on the comments,
And their hackles then are raised,
So more bitter words are spoken,
And its a choking negative haze.

The fog encompasses everything,
And it's no longer fun.
So I hold my breath and impatiently wait,
Until you've finally gone.

I'll live.

Inside the box of frozen walls,
I sit and watch as the temperature falls.
Inside this box, I helped create,
I feel the simmering vibes, the hate.
I thought what I wanted was something plain,
Something small, expected.  I need not explain.
Turns out, it's something you cannot give,
So to keep her close, this is the way I'll live.