I  miss my innocence,

I miss not understanding,

I miss ignorance.

Once upon a time,

I knew very little,

and I was happy.

Once upon a time,

I feared ignorance,

because I knew I possessed it,

and I was happy.

Once upon a time,

I loved,

and lost,

and it made me,

unhappy.

I think perhaps the saddest thing,
that happens when you lose a dog.
Is you know you're gonna stop seeing there hairs,
but you still don't see it coming,
when it hits you,
you haven't has a hair on your coght,
in months.

Studying,
all night long,
learning and trying,
tutoring with patients,
and so it grows...

Saving myself,
protecting me,
form others,
from myself,
and so it grows...

Laughing at nothing,
as we lay in darkness,
pushing us closer together,
and so it grows...

Naps,
oh the naps,
taking time for ourselves,
alone in company,
and so it grows...

As it blossoms,
as it strengthens,
intertwining,
and oh how it grew.

Puoi ripetere, per favore?



...



Puoi ripetere, per favore?


Mi chiami-

Mi chiamo!



Mi chiamo, Alyssa.

Meraviglioso! Puoi ripetere, per favore?





Mi...chiami-

Chiamo! Mi chiamo!





Perché non si può rimanere...

Finally I have arrived,
here a place where I am free,
from the stresses behind me.

There is new adventures here,
new pains,
new loves,
or at the very least different ones.

Somehow when I come here,
I lose all my tolerance for my ghosts.
They linger,
and very rarely,
they break through.

When they do,
when they visit,
I feel as if I am a child.
New to the pains of this world,
unknowing of tolerance,
skin,
as thin,
as paper.

When they get to close,
when I have to face them straight on,
I feel as though someone has doused my fire,
and I'll hibernate,
until it passes.

I know I should not assume you are mine,
today,
I have to share you.

But I got so used to having you,
today,
I stumble without your presence,
trip,
and am ashamed.

I can go another day without seeing you,
but the problem is,
I wasn't planing to.

The brake room is a minefield,
filled with factless options,
readily being shouted across the room.

"Man I can stand thous ****."
Clams one boy,
to young to already have his judgement clouded by the hatred in this world.

"It's like all of a sudden this world is loosing it's morals..."
mumbles another,
quietly,
ever so quietly I sit,
surrounded by people who,
though they don't know it,
hate me.

"Those Democrats think they can strip this of all it stands for."

Finally the loudest of them,
turns to me,
and dares to ask,
"What's your option in all this little lady?"

I look at the faces of these men,
all but one are far past there prime,
and I,
the small new girl,
feel like a gazelle surrounded by lions.

They already know my option,
they've assumed,
"You have to be liberal with blue hair like that, no to mention the ****** piercings..."

"Well, I'll put it this way,"
I say when I finally find it in me to speak,
"If I can't cry at my best friends wedding because some,
close minded,
self centered,
*******,
are to discussed by the fact that she is not marrying someone who fits there standers,
but instead is marrying for love,
we're gonna have a problem."

They sit there for a minute,
ether pondering my words,
or out of sheer shock that I spoke at all,
and I use that moment to take my leave.

When one shouts after me,
"Eh, your young, your option doesn't even really matter yet."

To which I have no choose but to point out that,
"My option is one of the future, that is where where heading, and it doesn't matter if you like it cuz you have you head to far up your *** to see it anyways."

And with this,
I finally am freed from this accursed room,
from now on I'll take me lunches in my office.

There are some people,
who no matter how far you reach,
how loud you scream,
or how long you wait,
they will never come.

Then there are some people,
who no matter how hard you push,
even though you don't deserve it,
they will never give up on you.

Over the years my faith has faltered,
until it nearly fell.
I never really could understand why,
good people went through hell.

Or how a God so "merciful" and "just,"
could create a world as ours.
One filled with pain,
and people,
who do nothing but tear us down.

Life only made harder by people we hold dear,
when there not around.

I never really could understand why,
God would let my Mother cry.
When babys born are soon babys buried,
and parents left behind.

Where souls are lost and misguided,
and though you reach out still,
a hand is never returned,
and this,
this brakes your will.

I never really could understand how,
God could really exist.

No matter where,
I could not find an answer,
so let me tell you this.

I see God in the faces of friends,
the ones that help me though,
for if God really does exist,
he must exist in you.

WORDS!

Why do you fail me?

WORDS!

Why can't you say just
      what
                                  I
                                                                               ...want...

The letters spun into a web,
words dancing,
clouded emotions found and solved.

Finding human connection through your struggle,
sing of the love I have,
and I hold so dear.
That I fear to be clear of what I hold here,
for I want nothing more,
than my Dear.

Chant for the friends,
who hold me down,
and build me wings.
Keeping me moving forward,
if only for a little longer,
with them.

Call for the family,
that I never feel I have found my place in,
never knowing,
is
   this
          how
                  you
                         love?

Never quite understanding,
is
   this
          how
                  you
                         write?

Finding that,
this
      is
          how
                  you
                        feel. And that's okey.

Can you hear me?
Can you see me?

Would you care if you could?
Or would you leave me,
alone?
Left with no answers,
reaching out to you,
only to be,
deserted.

Do you even look anymore?
Or do you just serinad me with words,
promises,
that just push the knife in deeper?

Maybe its all in my head,
for life doesn't come with rules,
or guidance.

Maybe still,
you have made a decision,
that is unbeknownst,
to me.

Never have I heard of words so sweet,
these words that strike my heart offbeat.

Though isn't it crazy,
oh so it seems,
that you are also,
a muse to me.

"I would **** for a pause button."
He says as we lay together reflecting on our lives.
"Just to be able to take some time off,
evory day just feels the same and I'm drowning in it,"

and as much as I related,
as much as I would be tempted to push that button if given the chance,
I don't.

For our lives are made in the mundane,
our lives really exist between the extraordinary.
When we look back on our days once lived we don't long for the days of excitement,
though we may look back on them fondly,
we dream of our old patterns.

The days we knew what laid ahead,
the days that weave together into a tapestry of life.

The days we sat in class with notes,
and friends.

We truly exist,
and find ourselves,
in the routines,
that we build.

So please appreciate your richuals,
love your moments of calm,
revel in your hours of knowing where you are and who you're with,
for now it may seem eternal,
but even life itself is fleeting.

Emotions come and go,
a falling feeling in my stomach,
reminds me,
I'm looking the battle.
I scratch,
and search frantically,
I must gain control.
I will not start over,
after all my progress,
I refuse to start over.
But the waves keep crashing,
and I am sinking.

The tightness in your chest,
like a black hole is forming,
******* up every emotion,
except fear.
Then the shaking,
like an earthquake going down your spine,
you try to gain control,
but there is nothing you can do but wait.
Panic,
as the tears start rushing,
and you just want to be held,
but you must not be a burden.
You're too much work,
you're too much time,
you're trying to control his life.
You can see the red flags forming around you,
and if you were someone else,
who saw you,
you would run,
and so will he,
eventually.
I must not be a burden.
I must not be a burden.
I must not be a burden.
Everything closing in,
you lose control of your own body,
you crave the comfort of another,
but crave more to not be a strain.
Your making their life more difficult.
You just want to curl on the floor,
and let it all out,
all of the tears,
and emotions,
but you can't.
You know any minute someone is going to walk through your door,
so you must stay composed,
no matter how much it would help you now to have them,
letting loose could cause you to lose them forever.
Stay strong.
Just stay strong.
You beg to yourself not to make your pain visabul,
but you just want to be held.
Stay strong.
Just stay strong.

I never understood,
why being quite some days,
is sinomis with being upset.

Some days I just like to watch,
I find that if most people took the time to observe,
we would have a lot more optimis.

Sometimes you need to get out of your own head,
and just watch and listen to others,
because that is the only way you'll ever understand them.

Some days you need to stop talking,
over all of the voices,
that are trying to teach you so many lessons.

When you are talking,
you are not learning,
but when you stop,
that's where the lesson begins.

You don't always have to be the one telling the punch line,
to enjoy a friends smile.

People are too busy trying to do,
to actually be.
To just sit with your friends,
watch them interact,
and enjoy being there.

For many years my friends would say I was easy to read,
they could always tell,
they would say,
what I was feeling,
when I was lying.

I would laugh and agree,
say lying just wasn't my specialty,
when really,
it's all I ever did.

I would hide my sadness,
not wanting to bog down others with it,
it was my baggage,
and I must carry it alone.

Over the years I formed a mask,
one I still wear to this day,
however,
when you are always wearing a mask,
you see things differently.

Slowly I started noticing all of the masks around me,
whenever I walked outside there was a masquerade,
of fake emotions,
empty smile.

I was able to see through the front people used to keep the world out,
and sometimes I was able to get in,
and help.

It's not always necessary to point them out,
sometimes,
a warm smile,
is all someone needs.

I'm still trapped though,
in my mask,
and its dark and lonely in here.

I want nothing more than for someone to come save me,
rip my mask off,
and embrace me as I am,
not as what I show.

I guess I'm a far better liar than everyone things,
because I am always able to keep my pain so far inside,
that even I sometimes forget it's there.

Sometime I want to die,
and I don't even know why.

To see the light at the end of the tunnel,
to embrace death as an old friend,
to no longer have to exist.

Sometimes it's triggered by something,
but sometimes,
it washes over me,
flows through me,
like molten iron running thru my veins,
burning me from the inside out.

But I continue to move forward,
for better or worse,
I'm not done fighting yet.

If I was your first,
would you have appreciated me as much?

Would you still know that I was the one for you,
and there was no one else?

If I was your second,
would you have grown enough?

Would you know how to love someone,
and how to treat anothers heart?

If I was your third,
would you still have tryed so hard?

Would you know know love is worth fighting for,
would you never give in?

If I was your fourth,
would you be so pashen?

Knowing that love is worth waiting for,
and being so easy to forgive?

If you were my first,
would I have been ready?

Would I be able to handle such a large commitment,
and know what a healthy relationship looks like?

Through trial and evor,
we found each other,
I don't care that I'm not your first,
as long as I'm your last.

Sometimes,
I feel like my heart is going burst.
Like I will never be able to convey,
just how much I love you.

At first it scared me,
just how much I could love another.

I always got all my love from my friends,
they were all I needed,
boys lead to broken houses.

Even when I picked someone "safe",
I got hurt.

I took a chance on you,
a leap of faith,
and it was more then worth it.

This is more then a relationship,
it's friendship.

Dancing in laughter and light,
even when the darkness corners me,
you take my hand,
and everything lightens,
if just a little.

When the monsters in my head insist that there's nothing left,
screaming that it would be better if it was over,
you can silence them.

I never thought I would find someone,
with such a profound impact on me.

I never thought I would find someone,
who I could have such a profound impact on.

A team,
who has fallin',
for each other.

Time alone,
and moments of silence,
are few,
and far between here.

Swimming in a room of voices,
diving into the world,
and I find myself,
enjoying it.

I don't miss being alone,
nights where I would have dates with myself.

I could never go a cupel days,
without being alone,
before.

But here,
I find myself in love,
with this life,
and these people

When I feel the darkness creeping in,
I see the fog fill my vision.

When gravity suddenly becomes too much to bear,
and everything closes in becoming far too small.

When the air becomes thick and heavy,
and nothing can quench my thirst.

There are very few people who have never let me down,
who I never had to fear them leaving my life,
and I want to always be surrounded by them.

There love,
is the only love,
I can not live without.

Everytime I see you,
I can feel your hate,
your jealousy,
green runs through your veins.

You push everyone away,
you make us hate you,
because you love to be miserable.
Nothing pleases you more then being pitied,
you feed off of it.

Always having that hardest life,
the hardest time,
trying to compare everything,
wanting to be the best at something.

If you can not have his love,
at least you can have his attention,
if only for a moment,
the thought of you shadow thoughts of me.

I know how you work,
I've seen it before,
I see your motive,
and your thoughts,
you are no longer a mystery to me.

I reached out an olive branch,
even after all the pain you put me though,
and you lit it on fire.
Watching the flames dance,
as your face lit up with glee,
you hurt me again.

I now battle with my own demon,
hatred,
I can not rememmber the last time it reared its ugly head,
but I promise,
I will stop wasting,
my energy,
on you.

Fingerprints,
from a past lover,
cover every inch of my body.
Every place has been explored,
and exposed.

Cuts and bruises,
scars from pain,
left by my family,
they ache when I am reminded of them.

Broken bones,
from people I once trusted,
to catch me when I fell,
let me slip through their fingers.

My past has left me marked,
my past has left me tattered and worn,
my past has left me broken.

A tight squeeze,
reassuring me that he is still there,
and everything will be okey.
Looking at the hands,
interlocked.
Hands that will wither,
and grow old,
together.

A slap on the back,
slightly harder than intended,
letting me know it was all in good fun.
Reassuring me that this friendship is real,
and valued.

A little hand in mine,
holding tightly,
as we weave through people.
I am telling him that he is safe,
with me.

Rough hands help me off the ground,
like they have numerous times before,
they are always there for me,
catching me whenever I fall.

Hand tell stories words can not,
they convey emotions that are ineffable.
Where words fail,
hands sing.

Tick, tick, tick.

The sounds of his fingers dancing on his keyboard,
lulling to me to sleep.

Click, click, click.

The sounds of him fighting the boss battle,
leads me to my dreams.

Scratch, scratch, scratch.

The sounds of her drawing,
guards me as I rest.

The glow of the television eliminating our faces.

Surrounded by friends,
I see no better way,
to end my day.

What is he like?
How does he dress?
What does he read?

The questions come flooding in like my feelings when I first saw him,
except instead of riding the wave,
I'm drowning in it.

Drowning in scrutinizing eyes,
curious mouth,
and women past their prime,
trying to live vicariously through me.

How old is he?
What's his major?
Where does he go to school?

A word of advice,
never start dating around the holidays,
you instantly become the center of attention.

There intentions are good,
but they hold my regard for them far to high.
Thinking, they can pass of fail the one I love like a school boy on an exam.
Thinking, they can void him like an unfavorable law.
Thinking, there opinion really matters to me.

Where is he from?
What does his parents do?
How long have you known him?

I humor them,
for these conversations can be fun sometimes,
I do love talking about him.

Though the questions are never ending,
as though we are in a ring,
and they are looking for an opening,
circling around me,
trying to find the week spot.

Interrogation me,
trying to make me crack,
for surely no boy can be so perfect.

Where does he work?
Does he watch sports?
What clubs is he in?

I do not understand why they feel so entitled to my life,
I do not understand when my happiness stopped being enough.
I do not understand when you became part of our relationship.

I love him,
and he loves me,
and everyone else will just have to live with that.

Approval be ******.

Home is a funny place,
its somewhere between love,
and a warm bed.

It lives between a building,
and a sole.

It is a place,
an idea,
and a person.

Home is where you can be yourself,
where you don't need to try,
and you are loved.

Home does not need to be where you live,
or where you sleep,
or where you keep your things.

It can be in a hallway,
on your way to class.

On a beach,
in the middle of summer.

In a restaurant,
surrounded by people.

In a studio,
in a hug,
on the street.

Home can be a place,
but it can move.

Though your address may never change,
your home could be always moving.

You may think that you lost your home,
but maybe you just lost yourself.
When you find it again,
you will see,
it has always been waiting.

Home may not always be the easiest place to be,
it needs constant upkeep,
and it is not always simple.

Everything you put into your home,
will come back,
and the more people you invite in,
the larger it gets.

Dare to let them in,
dare to be hurt,
dare to build a home.

My friends,
thank you,
for building a home,
with me.

Warm welcoming hallways,
friendly smiles,
warm bed.

I look forward to returning to a place that feels more like home,
then my house,
ever did.

Understanding,
paragraphs said in silence,
love.

I will miss the people that know me best,
and have brought me this far.

Without whom,
I would be lost.

On the nights I'm not with you,
I think of the time you first kissed me,
and how delightfully surprised I was.

On the nights I sleep alone,
I think of how we met,
and how a simple twist of fate has changed everything.

On the nights I'm sad,
I think of how you look at me,
and how you just stare with the goofy sideways smile.

On the nights I'm mad,
I think of how you hold me,
and how a simple hug can brighten my day.

On the nights I can not sleep,
I think of the boy who saved me,
and how in such short a time I have fallen for him.

I think of our similarities
and our differences.

Our values
and our flaws.

But most of all,
most of all I think of how your hand fits in mine,
and how I will never let it go.

I will be your rock,
when you feel there is no one left,
stand on me and I will give you stability.

Let me hold you and block out the world,
let me mend your wounds,
and love your scars.

As long as you let me I will always be there for you,
do not try push me away,
I will not go.

You simply need to take my hand,
reach out,
I will always be by your side.

I will not forsake you,
I will not forget you,
and I will always love you.

I can no promise that I will be perfect,
that we will always be happy,
or that I will not have my faults.

But I swear to you,
I will never give up on you,
just please try to remember,
how much you mean to me.

Daddy stop!

Mommy don't go!

The bell rings and there at it again,
circling each other waiting for an opening.

Though I may have aged,
when this happens I am back to being seven.

Watching wide eyed as the lion and the lioness size each other up,
and then the brawl begins.

It starts off soft,
first the strings,
then slowly but surely,
all of the instruments are added in.

Before you know it all you can here is the
bang,
of the drums,
and the,
crash,
of the cymbals.

Every beat is being thrown at me,
I retreat to my room,
but there is no safety there.

Eventually it gets silent,
until you hear the footsteps.

With every stride you can hear them sharpening their blade,
preparing to take down one more,
and with one swing,
I fall.