They are young,
But they've forgotten,
We grow old,
We are the forgotten.

I still hear your voice, faintly, in the crowded hallways.

Sometimes I worry the cuts on his body
aren't accidents...

Remember those days.
in that stuffy math classroom?
Shaking your 'poké-walker',
instead of paying attention?
We'd giggle and joke,
yet we still passed the class...
You told me I could have,
Your Lugias...
I cherished them then.
Remember when I'd braid my hair,
so it would be curly when I got to school,
and you called me Kitty?
Remember when you dubbed me Keichi?
Remember all those days in orchesta,
talking smack about Brady?
Remember all those plans we had,
to go off to college together...?
Remember that one secret,
that you never did tell me?
Remember...
Those Lugias became tethers.
That cheap plastic bracelet,
more precious than gold.
Remember me?

Said it soft and slowly,
With words tantalized and teased me,
Had me hanging on the edge of your twisted blade,
Thought you were here to set me free,
Instead you plucked off all my feathers,
One by one,
Recounting poems of romance and doves,
As you took away my beauty,
And striped away the bone,
With kisses and your wicked teeth,
You bled me out and with malicious might-
Took my heart and fled in the night,
But I am not a feeble creature,
My vigor burns eternally, bright,
My bones mended and my feather grew back,
Black instead of white,
My innocent appearance left to smolder,
My ebony cloak gleams,
Beneath which my scars are seen,
This wicked phoenix is not dead,
But born again from my own sea of red,

And
Sometimes
You just need a
Moment, to sit and listen
To the noise of the world around
You as the chaos inside of your head
Finally begins to quiet
And watch
The snow
Fall

Only
the
roaring
storm
calms
Her

Her words make mighty mountains tremble

Do you ever start writting and erase it all a billion times over, just trying to get it right?
Do you roll around in your bed at night because your mind is too restless to get any sleep?
Do you spend your free time thinking and dreaming of new things you could do if only you tried harder?
Do you sit in the dark of a closed off room because the sun is just too happy for your mood?
Do you look at the sky at night and wish the stars would never fade away into sunlight?
Do you find yourself wishing on those same stars, wishing for things to change, or stay the same?
Do you think too much and cause yourself to question everything and wonder about stupid things like I do?
Do you make random lists of things to fill your time and express a little bit of your feelings?
Do you think I'm strange when I do the things that I do, even though they seem a little odd?
Do you know why I hate un-clicked pens?
Do you know what scares me the most?
Do you know why my favorite color is blue?
Do you know how my hand writting looks?
If I whispered all my secrets to you, would you keep them locked inside the prision fortress of your mind, and never tell a soul?
Would you guard those secrets with your life?
Would you protect me from the things that go bump in the night?
Would you fend off the dark demons that plague me, and whisk me away to our own kingdom of safety?
Would you be my knight, and my king?

I'm a wild animal...
No matter how much I try
I just can't be tame.
Just when I think I've been broken
I lash out and attack
With violent words and razor fangs
And agony coursing through my veins.
This isn't what I wanted.
I'm trying to fit in and be good,
Why wont my old habbits die?
Why wont my wildness fade away?
Why does it linger inside me like scars?
Why can't I be the person I wish I was?

To all the high school wanna-be's who think their rapping is a  God given gift to the world... Please stop.

And I keep on waiting,
waiting
Waiting for my world to change...

Have you ever noticed the difference,
That a single word can make?
How I'm fine, and I'm alright,
Just don't mean the same?
And how some words are coded,
Embeded with hidden meanings,
Used amongst close friends,
When blunt speech wont do.
How Alien can be one person,
Avenue another,
The Drug meant a sweater,
And Turtle Soup meant ****...
How growing up, life was filled,
With stupid little words,
That you could say innocently,
While meaning so many other things...
Back when school wasn't a worry,
And college wasn't looming over us.
When our weeknights consisted,
Of around-the-house,
Ghost-in-the-graveyard,
And cops & robbers.
Words were so much more than words.
Words were powerful,
Words were strength.
Words held secrets,
A single word could mean anything.

For some reason the idea of freedom
Has never seemed so far away

It's one thing to be torn apart by the hateful words of others,
It's another thing entirely to be the one berating and destroying yourself,
Cursing all of the mistakes you have made,
Beating yourself for all the things you cause to go wrong,
Destroying the shreds of self esteem you keep trying to weave together,
Into something that wont look as mangled and destroyed as you feel inside,
Drowning on the tears you cause yourself to shed,
Sinking in the abyss of self doubt you've created,
Burring yourself in the bottomless hole you've dug in your mind,
The hole you throw yourself into day after day,
The dark pit where your hatred and anger devour you,
Where others can't hope to drag you out,
The hole where you are so completely alone that you start giving up,
The fight seeps out of you, slowly,
Tear by tear,
Week by week,
Until you're nothing but a hollow shell called 'you'.

Everything I do,
Everything they say,
It all leads back to you...
And your morbid humor,
And your contagious laughter,
And our messed up "family",
And our last days as 8th graders,
And our big summer plans,
And our silly problems,
And our last pictures,
And the forgotten good-byes,
And the 4th of july....
With THE phone call,
And the horrendous news,
And the crying,
And the fireworks...
And the funneral,
And the kleenex box,
And all the crying,
And hugging,
And missing...
All of it...
Because we love you

Sometimes I get the feeling I'm not wanted,
That people would be happier if I wasn't in their pressence,
That I should go away and sulk somewhere less public,
Hide my shame and become a wall-flower,
Dissappear into the background of a world
That couldn't care less if I die tonight,
But I don't want to.
I want to be wanted.
I want to be noticed, and present.
I don't care if I make you un-comfortable,
I have just as much right to be here as you do.
I won't sulk alone anymore, I've found true friends
That will be my strength in my moments of weakness.
I found that in this world of drab, dull greys,
I'm sick of blending in,
It's about time I let my true colors shine through

It never stops amazing me how much time flies in hindsight,
The future seems so far away, but what's been done is ancient history.
There's just under eight weeks left,
Till the end of my countdown of mystery.
It's so easy to forget how long it's been,
When you're living an endless winter this blistery.
The day is approaching, the new dawn encroaching,
I can't wait to welcome you into my arms...

This human body of mine
Craves the strangest of things at times...
When I'm laying in bed at night, all I can think of
Is how delicious some fresh macaroni would taste,
Or how much I really want a corndog,
Or when I'm sitting in class waiting for lunch,
And I start thinking about fish fillets,
And sandwhiches...With layers and layers of meat and cheese,
Or when I've just finihed eating something,
And a friend mentions what they just ate,
And I begin to want it terribly badly...
Why do I get these cravings at the weirdest of times?
Why can't I stop craving spanish rice,
Or Olive Gardens' breadsticks?
Atleast I got over my extream cravings for fries...
Nope, nevermind.

There was this kid once, who went on an adventure-
to Coborns...
(Let's get this straight, right now, this kid wasn't me,)
Following the gray cement pathway she walked,
But the kid had this thing about bugs...
She never did like them much, but she liked them
Even less squished on the sidewalk with guts-
Spewing all over.
So this odd little kid walked purposefully,
But stared at the ground, so as not to trample one
Of those nasty bugs with her relatively clean shoes.
Well, the one time she glanced at the glistening waters
With birds swimming atop, she heard the noise,
Felt the crunch, of a massive cricket.
She didn't have to see it to know what it was,
Every detail of the pancaked thing was etched
Into the bottom of her gorey tennis-shoed foot.
The rest of the way to Coborns, she felt the cricket's body.
It wasn't stuck to her shoe, she was quiet certain,
But the after-image in her mind wouldn't let
The feeling of the cricket out of her thoughts.

On the return trip home, this girl,
(who, just to re-iterate, isn't me), made sure
To stop looking down when she neared the place of
The squashing. And to this day, she still wont
Look down when walking to Coborns.

When you check your email,
Like any other day,
And get excited to see new messages,
Only to discover the first is an email stating that you either aren't needed or aren't qualified enough,
For that job you really wanted,
And the second new email tells you,
"Guess what? That other possition you wanted? Well, it's out of the question too!"

When I looked in the mirror,
I finally started to see the things he loves

I was right.
Fireworks aren't the same without you.
They remind me of that day,
When I stood at the window crying,
Watching fireworks that you'd have loved to see,
Missing you so much it hurt to breath,
Wishing you would hug me one last time...
You had this thing for fireworks,
I'm not really even sure why,
But you used to joke about them
Being your weapon of choice.
And every time I'd see fireworks,
I was reminded of you.

When the roaring winds quiet and the crashing waves subside,
What's left is a silent picture,
A still frame of destruction,
A single image worthy of awe,
When the final chord is strummed and the last beat drummed,
What's left is an eerie silence,
A mental echo of the sounds,
A silent vibration through the air,
When the bright lights burn out and the world starts to slumber,
What's left is a somber mood,
A time to contemplate,
A chance to experience true silence,

Take the time to marvel at the after-image, the absence of sound, the Silence of night,
For actions are only as meaningful as the thought given to them in their Absence.

Every so often I let my soul fly

He’s so depressed he can barely
Hide it inside himself anymore
The look on his face pains
My heart more than the knowledge
That even I can’t help him
When he gets this way…

The crowed rooms of heartless
Fools add to the battle he wages
Inside the hidden parts of his
Mind where I can’t see him bleeding
Crying alone as I watch his face turn
Cold while his eyes plead for my help...

I’m no doctor, I can’t prescribe him
Pills to drown out his heartache
I’m not a dealer, I’ve got no drugs
To give him an escape from this
I’m not a magician, I lack the magic
Needed to cure him of himself…

I can’t make him like himself
Any more than I can make the
Moon turn into a shooting star
To wish upon. He lets me in
But only so far as the front
Yard to his prison of a mind…

Why won’t he let me see
The wounds he’s created in
His own self-esteem? I’d sew
Them up with delicate thread
And gentle loving hands if only
He’d let me get close enough…

My heart's chords no
longer sound melodious.

he said it
he uttered the words not aloud
but still they were heard
and the meaning was felt as
the cutting edge dug in
and the sound of steel rang
in my ears
while whispers of his agony
drowned inside my mind

When sitting in the school coffee shop,
And all I hear is a group of immature guys,
Talking about how thirsty their friends are,
Complaining how ugly the ******* on twitter are,
Screaming and yelling and squealing at each other,
It makes me wish I weren't part of this generation.

I've given up on humanity.

Singing along to the music,
Dancing around in the crick,
Frolicking in the moonlight,
Acting stupid 'cause it's night
And nobody can hear us,
Because the trees wisper "hush,"

Circling the bonfire
Of twigs and sticks,
Fuel to the desire,
To test out some drinks,
Because nobody will hear,
The trees still wisper "hush,"


We'll fall to the ground,
In drunken mounds,
Not stiring till noon,
Even that's too soon,
We hear leaves swaying,
The trees are wispering "hush,"

We drink some more,
And then there are four
Of us still standing,
'Till we start puking,
And the world goes dark,
And the trees wisper "hush,"