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She stands outside
reason : unknown.
The leaves crackle as they glide.
The wind picks up; trees are blown.

The sun captures her in a spotlight,
rays of hope fall beside her...
hence the cool air: it warms the fright.
The house behind her, fades to a blur.

Racing thoughts escape her head,
taken away with each gust of wind: each whisper.
With all the tears she has ever shed,
all the pain, made history.

Soon the wind falls dead.
She doesn't move, just remains still...
the world frozen, no commotion in her head.
Then it all happens against her will...

A warm breeze brushes her neck,
chills race to the tips of her toes.
She is forced to move, but only to check,
'cause shes off the ground before she knows.

Her mind, still on pause...
a smile brightens her face.
Can't imagine a possible cause;
her heart beats a different pace.

The wind lets out another whisper,
somehow forming a full statement
kiss her
Suddenly her lips gain a tingling sensation...

Not realizing her eyes were closed,
slowly she opens them.
Not sure what her sight may behold...
gradually she gains feeling again.

His presence, now tangible
not just a whisper in the wind.
Her heart, currently unreliable,
but its magic, this feeling, him..
October 19, 2009
another throw back
Words filling empty thoughts:
'needs' and 'wants' they tend to cross.
Letting our surroundings chime in,
No longer comprehend where we're being driven.
Consider every desire, but our own...
Can't even hear our internal tone.
Honesty,
Has died with chilvary.

We look around before we answer,
Hoping someone else steps up faster.
Changing for the sake of image...
Not realizing all the damage

We listen to the moon,
That makes us take a step back.
We listen to the wind,
Who blows us way off track.
We listen to the sun,
Who has a different idea of fun.

We ignor the flowers,
That try to tell us this life is ours.
We ignor the rocks, that try to show us how to be unique.
We ignor the dirt, passing it off as simply bleak.
We ignor the clouds, that are just aiming for our protection.
We ingnor anything that shows true, unconditional affection.

Instead of appreciating the rain,
We sit back and complain.
Hoping our stories will finish themselves,
Not once questioning how we felt.

Should we breathe for a second?
Hear our thoughts come in; let them...
Should we listen to the flowers?
The rocks, the dirt, the rain, the clouds?
Should we listen to our hearts? and then..
For once, pick up the pen.
October 18, 2009
been reading over some of my old work, I have come a long way, but even so the messages are strong and true
-      She was a dreamer who lived in
an insomniac world. Nothing came easy…
      every time she tried to begin,
she would stumble and fall, but that
    didn’t stop her. Although she thought
differently...her will could withstand anything
    thrown in her way, just another challenge fought.
The past haunted her days, shadowing almost
      every move…every single breath. Time
always promised to make things better,
      but she knew better than to find
truth in those words. Truth lay somewhere
    far from where she had ever let herself dream,
too heavy from all the weight she carried.
    There was only one time she let herself lean…
letting her weight get the best of her, thinking
      she could find a way to dream peacefully forever,
but even then she failed to succeed.
      She lost the ability to hold her world together.
   Indifferent to the world, numb to all
emotion, she lost hope in being set free.
   The darkness surrounding so great; faith too small.
So she poured her pent up pain,
     into artful master pieces.
She sketched abstract obscurities
     that depicted her darkest of secrets.
She painted intangible thoughts and
   feelings she longed to be fulfilled with through
majestic words that put anyone who dared
   to read, in the footsteps of her soul. Broken and blue
she crafted old warn memories into the
     picturesque landscapes of her wildest dreams. She
elegantly danced with the monsters under her bed and
     gracefully with the skeletons in her closet… breaking free.
there is more to be added to this poetic thought, eventually leading to "She is…", but figured if I posted part one it would motivate my inspiration to continue working with these brewing ideas.
We stand in despairity,
Craving some clarity.
Yet too afraid to step out,
& figure it all out.
We stand in the dark,
Hoping life somehow provides a spark.
One bright enough to ignite a path,
Hoping it's one long enough to last.
We stand, hidding in our own,
Shadow. Hidden, alone.

The rays shine down,
Searching for a beautiful soul to surround.
But the flowers, the ocean,
The reality of commotion,
Seem to absorb each ray.
& in each day,
It becomes harder to step out,
Afraid the world will figure you out.
However the fear isn't there, to be exact.
It lies in a more complicated fact.
One we all have faced,
Is allowing ourselves to find our own place.

To step out of our own...
Shadow. To step out alone.
We stand here beneath our own dark side,
To ignortant to admitt, we all hide.
Stand there & question: why its so dark?
How in life, can i make my mark?
Stand there and believe,
That there's a sign that will lead.
A sign that will tell us who we are.
This, however, is farther than the farthest star.
Farther from any truth ever spoken,
Because in life, we are our own token.

So step out of that shadow,
The world isn't that shallow.
Discover the light,
Let your soul shine bright.
Take part in your time,
Life doesn't have a 'rewind'.
October 18, 2010
a piece of you, in a different form.
a piece left over, from the storm.
in my existance,
came all the resistance.
shortly after, the roof caved in.
& with an end, we watched it begin.
daddy left, you stepped up.
an empty glass, you filled the cup.
little did we know, it had a leak.
it's dripping slowly, as we speak.
over bumps we built bridges, rocky roads we held hands.
next to me, by my side...you'd always stand.

then, my hero ****** up.
he spilt the cup.
but he wasn't to blame,
no guiltiness, no shame.
you mopped the floor,
and again..you poured.
the cup freshly filled...
until the next spill.
the crack grew longer,
our bond grew stronger.
but little by little,
it grew too brittle.

his pillows were fluffed.
mine came unstuffed.
his blankets were warm.
mine came torn.
his bed was made.
but, you see i was afraid.
he didn't come home.
my secret is left : unknown.

i hit a blindspot in your rearview mirror.
i tried to hit the wipers so you'd see clearer.
& i tried with all my might.
to get into your sight.
but he was standing there, in the headlights.
& you...flicked on your brights.
there, i stopped, i tumbled...i fell.
no mean to get up, no energy to compell.

so now, i'll try and help you understand,
why i only hold plastic cups in my hand.
i was tired of competing with the one who broke the cup.
and watching, everytime, as you filled it up.
i was tired of running, when he got to walk.
i was tired of staying silent, when he got to talk.
i didn't know you had to fail, in order to win.
i didn't know you had to say goodbye, in order to begin.
April 29, 2010
Your trying too hard to make me invisible.
Yet there's something left in that head that makes me irresistible.
All ego set aside...
I'm not the one to run and hide.
Your stuck in this moment that doesn't even exist.
It's too bad you fell in love with a realist.
Started making things up, to make that pedestal seem higher.
But the world can be an ugly place...I'll let you in on a secret, your not the only liar.
That pedestal has been stuck in that hole you continue to dig.
I have been trying to work around it, but you have my world rigged.
My beautiful dragonfly will lead the way around.
Knows you just as well as I do, so it's got me flying far from the ground.
If you want to continue to live behind the scenes...
Carry on, by all means.
I tried to convince myself it was all derived from respect,
Like you never pulled the trigger, but with the coldness of your heart I don't know what's left.
Just remember the world will keep on turning.
This is the only fire still capable of burning.
With the lack of words, it should need its oxygen fix.
I guess in light of you, it has it's own tricks.
Your not the only one slowly sinking in quick sand,
Looking around...in need of a hand.
The fact is, not everyone is that weak...
Having to file the most difficult into the "problems that don't speak".
This is more real for me, than it is for you.
Yet you can't get it through your head that it's even true.
There is beauty in all evil, & now it resides right by my side.
The weight of it grows heavier as the days roll on, may as well have some pride.
The worlds evil can transform, if you care enough to mold it yourself.
The thing is you were never there, so you are clueless how it feels, or how it felt.
My beautiful dragonfly,
Never got the chance to walk along side.
Never had the opportunity to leave footprints in the sand.
Not even a moment to reach for a hand.
But eclectic wings have spread,
Ever since the sky shattered, some light has shed.
All I need is me, myself, & my dragonfly.
May not have been born to the real world, but the soul is encrypted in my mind.
Wether you come to terms and face the facts, or continue to hide.
At least I will have evils beauty, forever flying by my side.
July 26, 2013
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