I am terribly afraid of burning to death
and I am not very keen on freezing either
So if i would choose
I would probably choose neither.
or if the world had to perish in any manner
I wish to be dead before any encounter

I wonder where i would be ,
wonder if somehow or maybe.
Where the world would have took
I who was too afraid to look
would I be in space on planet mars?
be floating above, up there with the stars?

Look beneath the big blue waves
beneath the sand or inside the caves.
the sound of my heart lost to comfort
big in regrets and deeply encumbered
blue, it is stagnant in it's hollow
waves crashing against it ready to swallow

For I regret not having been curious.
I forsake the days i settled for less
regret not having followed adventure
not finding myself in the process.
having wasted my time with such adult ways
been ****** into their incurious gaze
curious was I before those days.

Myself, who are you, i will never know
who is this person who gave up on tomorrow
are all my hopes now gone like how curiosity left me?
you have given up hope to ever find glee?
I sit among the "what if" shadows
will I ever really find my purpose?
never will i get back the time I have lost
know I will make up for it at any cost

Everyday I will search not a moment I will waste
I will rush into the coming days with haste
will I have ample time to ever find me?
search I shall with all leniency.
not a storm so large will make me sway
a large pay check will not take me away
moment I find myself I will say
"I am greater than I am yesterday"
will I find what i am looking for?
waste no time I am ready for more.

We all admire them in our own way
Those Beautiful Blooming Bright Blue Bells in vases.
Them Rich Rampant Red Roses scattered in the fields.
All of them with such sweet smells
Ever rich Ever Enticing Everblooms I put out on the window sill
Odorous Ominous Orange Orchids you lay atop that cold tombstone.
But like all living things return to the ground
Death Devours Dainty Flowers.
Wilting wastefully within glass cases,
Withering Waning in the wild.
For as much as we try
As pretty as they may be
All flowers die
Like the love you promised me.

It is not what they built.
all our cities, twin cities?
When far away an interrupted cry!

I know enough of hate
To say that for destruction
It is what you have forgotten.

On a dark, dank desolated street pavement  
Stands a street lamp.
Made to guide those in need of the light.
Groomed to be brave, fearless and unwavering
Manufactured specifically to be aids
In the dark times that the city faced.

Served its purpose in the many years it stood
Lighting the way for cars as best as it could.
It shone for carriages, for kings and queens
Keeping them from harm whilst vesting the unknown
It shone for great leaders in the front line of their battles
Served as a safety sign for everyone at night.

In recent times it’s started to flicker
On and off and on and off and on and off it goes
While the mist in the streets grow thicker
No longer did it hold its eminent glow
Neck seemingly bent unlike it’s natural curve
Once flawless skin covered in blotches of dirt and rust
Its wires exposed, veins pressed against the skin
No more muscle or fat hide it

Vandalized by the impurities this world had to offer
Seemed as though it’s the people it kept safe that turned on it
He deserved a better way to die.
Not buried in forgotten memories and set aside
It served a great purpose in the hopeless tears that everyone shed in the dark
Now uprooted and thrown in the junkyard
More or less to be used like scrap metal like the rest of its kind.

Purple and fuzzy, somewhat unruly
Sitting comfortably atop the bed.
It’s missing a nose, it’s missing an eye
It’s covered in patches with a loose thread
Its ribbon is gone. It’s tattered and torn.
It’s been hugged, It’s been thrown, yet he’s not dead.
He’s often replaced, left out in the rain
But he is there when you have all the feels
He’ll stay right here, He’ll share your company
Like the neglected Best Friend that he is.

Never ending stories come out of my mouth
Yet never what I really feel.
Surprising surges of happiness overcome my being
Then endless rivers flow from my eyes.
Love is what I give away to everyone around me
Acceptance is what I wish to gain back.

All the smiles and laughs surface from my skin
When deep inside an unshaken fear haunts me
My hands a comforting touch to other people
They only claw at myself when I’m alone
Spreading positivity is what I pride myself in
Bottling up all the fear and insecurity is what I am good at.

I've decided to get over you
decided I won't play this game anymore
To rid myself of the fond memories that keep me holding on
get these thoughts of our happy ending out of my head.
over all this nonsense, I really am.
you never saw me the same way.

I know it will be hard
know that i will have to interact with you everyday
it is something unavoidable to people in the same friendship circle
will I be able to do this,
be strong and firm in my decision to let it go?
hard as it is I have decided to get over you.

It is going to take a while**
is all of this easy? No not at all.
going back and forth and fall all over again if very frustrating.
to suffer so much anxiety and be all over the place again.
take my feelings away already I don't want them anymore.
a cycle of falling again and forcing myself to move on.
while hard to end, I've decided to get over you.

And I am not over you yet though
I wish I was.
am I? I don't think so.
not always in the best position as i am
over acting making excuses.
you probably think i am just avoiding you, which is partly true
yet my friends are your friends and pulling away is not easy to do
though I've decided to get over you

But I will soon enough.
I am going to scream with joy of getting over an us that never was
will I shed a lot of tears though? I probably will but
soon the pain will subside and I will get my way because
enough is enough, I've decided to get over you.

“It’s not real”
“There is nothing wrong with you”
Just a damp floor where I laid for a while
“You don’t have any bruises”

“It’s not real”
“None of your bones are broken”
Only my head is pounding like a drum in an inconsistent beat
“Take some aspirin”

“It’s not real”
“I don’t see any blood”
Can’t move I’m suffocating It cannot stop
“Just go out and taste fresh air”

“It’s not real”
“You’re such an attention seeker”
Only, Its’s cold, the dark wood keeps me company
“Stop Imagining things”

“It’s not real”
“you’re getting annoying”
This tinge of pain will both set us free
“Just stop thinking this way”

The sun kisses goodbye
The cold engulfed the entirety.
We lost another breath.
“She was just over reacting.”

I have known the suffering of an inked paper,
Crumpled and thrown away in underappreciated trash bins,
Shoved in the corner between the two cold, unloved walls,
Covered and repainted with an old tattered brush,
Dipped and soaked in that aged drying paint,
Left in the basement with the hot headed furnace,
Tirelessly warning up that cold barren house,
Situated at the end of a long winding road hidden amidst the undergrowth.
Tucked away in this silent suburb a weak barely beating heart,
That lay crippled on a crimson creaking couch,
Standing beside a brown boring table,
Resting on top is a tattered trashed folder,
Inside which a crumpled piece of paper.