Split Your Heart, Not Your Tongue

"I am inspired, I'm just broke," that's what a close friend of mine just said to me a few minutes ago and I thought it was nothing short of brilliant! Those words are so simple yet we (as in those entering adulthood and recent college graduates) all can relate. How many of us feel as if we have more dreams than we could ever afford? Doesn't it suck to have a good idea yet no way of executing it? It's almost like life designed you to be a failure by default...and no one wants to be a failure. I wish I had a way of telling you a way out, but most importantly I wish I could help you instead of just writing this blog. Adulthood is hard . There's no other way to put it...no candy coated way of making reality sound like a dream. It's hard but the most important thing to remember is to not give up. This is even a hard task for me to remind myself of on a daily basis. They always say it gets better and we have to believe that it actually will or else we

I slipped up again...and I thought I was clean It's not an addiction, it's just a dirty habit It keeps me holding on night after night Because if you give up, you get what you get So I use it to feel, but I swear I'm clean... It's not an addiction, it's just something I do I love to go numb because it's better than the sting  I like to pretend everything's not crumbling around me And I tell myself to hold on to see what else life can bring Then I think to myself "what's the point in being clean?" It's the feeling that I don't want to be here anymore But all I really want is to be here Maybe I can take it if I bite down hard Gnashing my teeth sort of takes the pain away But then it comes back when I relax my jaw Now my nails are scratching the board and holding on for dear life And I just realized this poem doesn't have any form But I guess it doesn't matter because no one will read it anyway It

Intro Enough was enough. This was the last time I was going to allow him to treat me this way. My mom is gone and there’s no reason for me to remain here any longer. He’s the reason why she’s no longer breathing and I refuse to go out that way. It was time for me to leave. I looked at my face in the bathroom mirror. I was too young to go through this madness. I was only thirteen and I felt like I was living the life of a man. My face was sore and bruised. I guess since my mother was no longer here to be his punching bag, I had to suffice. Karson was my stepdad since I was nine years old but I never respected him. Night after night I would lie in my bed listening to the horror going on in the room next to mine. My mother’s screams from his beatings would enrage me, but what was I to do? I was only a kid. Still, I continued to blame myself. I should have been stronger. It wasn’t until I got a little older that I started to fight back. Fighting back only made him start to

This is a song that I wrote almost a year ago while I was sitting in my History of Rock Music class at SUNY Oneonta. To this day I think it's one of the most honest things I've ever written. Although times and feelings have changed since then, I felt like it was something still worth sharing. I thought of the title "Split Your Heart, Not Your Tongue" because I was tired of how we constantly hold our tongue because we're afraid of what others may think instead of pouring our hearts out honestly. Another title for this song could have been "Honesty". Why did you let her walk alone? How was she to know she wasn't on her own? No one ever told her that she was more than enough So she never even knew mattered Someone should've told her that it wasn't that bad Someone should've told her that's not all she had And if someone told her that she was beautiful Maybe she'd still be here Do you know how hard it is to feel