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Ayla Grey Sep 5
Singing by the wayside
Bellowing in the trees
Lovely like a turtle dove
Lives my hopes and dreams

Far away in the mountains
Buried in a box
My hopes and dreams lie dormant
Gated by the locks

Singing hallelujah
To the once gorgeous mural
Can't distinguish paintings
From extreme peril

But the hopes are beautiful like oceans
And they look like stained glass
And although they might be oblivious
They smell like cut grass
For those that don't know: the loved summer smell of cut grass is actually a distress signal from the plant. It's quite literally a call for help.
Ayla Grey Aug 29
The sky bled on me today
I heard the clouds shriek
As I ran away
But the sound followed me
I heard her sobs
I felt her bleeding
I knew it throbbed

Finally I looked up
As I heard someone say
Stand up sweetie
It's only rain
Ayla Grey Aug 26
Break me down - I dare you
Take out my knees
Feed me lies
Break your promises
I won't cry

I won't cry when the shots are fired
I won't sob at the blood in my hair
I'll stand up as my world catches fire
I won't cry
Watch me rise
Ayla Grey Aug 24
Some day I hope that the
Dark gray walls
Are lighter in color
Because I know the locks won't open
But staring at a purple barrier
Is at least better
Than a wall painted gray
Ayla Grey Aug 24
When I was young I looked at people kissing
And unlike other kids I made a face
Not a face of longing
But rather of disgrace
When I was young money didn't matter
I kept it in a piggy bank
And one day when the pig was full
Id watch that poor pig break
When I was young I helped my friends
But not with things like math
I helped them solve their problems
Before problem's aftermath
When I was young I thought there was no limits
There was no such thing shutting gates
But now I see locked iron bars
And increasing living rates
When I was young I saw such beauty
Lots of Bright colors and rose buds
But now I see wilting flowers
And the only color is the red of blood

Now I long for boyfriends
Now I long for wealth
Now I don't help anybody
I can't even help myself

Now I see my body
I look like I'm a mess
But I think of little me
Saying "Oo I love your dress"

And as I put on make up
And can't seem to put on enough
I think of mini me saying
"You look better with it off"

Little me would like my body
She'd say it's perfect size
She'd even like my frizzy hair
And my tear stained eyes

And when bad things happened
And I couldn't help but cry
I picture her holding my hand
And sitting at my side

She'd tell me that I'm enough
She'd tell me that I matter
She'd tell me to follow my dreams
And to never let them shatter
She'd tell me to ignore icky boys
Because boys were just gross
She'd tell me that even if I loved them
I should love myself most

And I tend to remember
That I forced little me to leave
But I always seem to forget
That she's still part of me
Ayla Grey Aug 24
Elegantly without mistep put up the dish
Tremorlessly clean the mess of a mind
Upon the sacred fall outs make a wish
Ask the universe for freedom to be mine

Find yourself before you heed all that's broken
Be careful to not step on the glass shards
Try and try to be there try and listen
So that maybe you can mend broke hearts

Be there when his whole world comes down
Greet him without a sympathetic sigh
Trust your arm to hold him close
Because Into your shoulder he'll cry

Fight the unseen battle walls
Crack your imposing glass ceiling
Because no matter how many times you fall
You'll never get a risen feeling

Tell him you'll be ok for him
So long as he himself is ok
And sometimes you'll have to lie to him
Because he desperately needs you to stay

Fight through the worst of mental storms
Ignore everything that causes you pain
And when the worst of news has formed
You tell them that you're ok

— The End —