Now that strings have been formed,
will they prove to hold like cables,
or is it another delusion?

How am I to awake on time
when my racing mind
keeps me up too late?

Why is my chest
feeling as it is?
my heart
cannot hold emotion,
but why does it act
as if it can feel?

Why do these voices
always get swept over my head?

And how was I so careless,
and open,
to a stranger?

And why are there so many questions
without answers?

Dear mom,

We have an unspoken promise;
Not to make sacrificial altars
In the basement.
I kept that promise this year.
That’s my gift.

Next year though...

Within my own little satellite,
I ward off the flowing tide.
When the tide falls,
I am beached, exposed.

In my bubble,
My solemnly solitary silence
Screams unspoken insults,
Hoping for me to step outside
And drown once more.

I want to open my door,
Especially when I’m with them,
But I always shut it more.
An unwanted reaction,
With fragmented reasoning.

Maybe they’ll step inside
And give me a hand.

Maybe I should just grow some fins.

It’s all a game of chess
you are just another pawn
We are all pawns, I digress.
Everybody is the same
Nobody is more special than the other
Not that anyone is special in this game
“The players don’t exist, mother.
There is no god, there is no satan”
A child will say this to their parent
This action was as useless as probation.
truth lain upon deaf ears, that is apparent.
We are all entrapped here, it is eternal
There is no cloud nine, it’s all infernal.

I sit in my throne of pride,
Saying I’ve got nothing to hide;
"An inhuman person, holding face,
One will never see his fall from grace."

The tension starts to strangle,
And my body I’ll continue to mangle;
"A hardworking soul, who’ll never tire,
Even as the bar raises higher and higher."

My love increases, yet I sit and wait.
It’s over my head, I’m starting to suffocate.
"Married to his work, he will not love.
He lies not in such concepts, but far above."

I don’t know what’s happening to me,
My life is continuing into uncertainty.
"He knows what to do, he’s set on a path,
His definite success will fill him a bath."

I don’t need attention, the problems are mine.
I won’t ever worry another, It will work out fine.
"For him, things will always go right.
He’s hand in hand with luck’s vast might."

Things always find a way...
"His present & future are rather gray..."

Possession:
To have something.

Unique:
One of a kind.

Something that is
Mine:
A unique possession.

Why can’t I say that
A N Y T H I N G
Of
E V E R Y T H I N G
Is mine?

Am I just a
Stolen existence?

Stolen:
To take without
prior permission.

Nothing stolen
Is ever truly mine,
So I am, without doubt,
A stolen personality,
Nothing more.

I
Hated
My
Life,
But
You
Saved
Me
From
Myself.

When what is lost
Has not yet become found,
Why do we miss it’s presence
And dream it was still around?

Leave me and go,
so I can watch the gentle flow.
The words I've spoken
left my mind shattered; broken.

You said you'd come
and, yes, you came.
Now let my melodic drops of memory
silently evaporate, beyond the flame.

A silver tongue,
Or a golden one?
I tend to prefer
Them motionless.

I saw your eyes so blue,
I wondered if you were there too.
But now I saw that my rose grew
And I’d love to hand it to you

My feelings and love will hold true.

This write took a lot of courage to do...

No,
You don’t belong
In this head of mine
I think it’s time
For you
To politely...
*******!

Today is not the day
For you to take over
And ruin me in every way.
I don’t need another thumbprint
To litter these pages of mine.

I remember the day I turned sixteen.
An enemy dating way back gave me a gift,
And I got happy birthday said to me.

I got a single present
From myself.

I was told happy birthday
From two people:
Myself and I.

Three people
Shredded my self-esteem:
Me, myself, and I.

As the walls come down,
There’s a look in your eyes;
My fear begins to freeze
As I recall all of those times
I shouldn’t have cried
And all of those times
I should have died.
But
I don’t mind,
Because you
Were so kind.

A class full of wonders,
but there I sat,
talking to the one of interest.

Topic after topic slipped by,
our minds ran cracked and dry,
but we kept talking.
We talked about life,
our problems and strife,
what plagued our week,
and what made us weak.

The clock had long since grown wings,
and it's deathly bell shook my body,
but as classes solemnly moved,
she moved along with me.
We continued to excitedly talk
as we kept on our inter-class walk.
Once it had come to a close,
I wondered in thoughts of blue,
if it could ever happen again.
A fluid yellow moment
on a viscous black week.

That’s where I was.
My mind thought of awful ****,
And my blood gave up it’s viscous sins.

Soon I my mind thought no longer of ****,
Rather a mire of endless proportions,
And equal emotions.

The vague moonlit visage
of her eternally beautiful face
was burned into my mind.

I remember it all,
especially the eyes.
She was smiling
a ventriloquist's smile.
Her face may have been
a summer sun's smile,
but her eyes
were a winter moon's sobs.

I want to help her
more than my pride
would ever
let my mouth admit.

It stabbed me,
like a rose's thorn.
Her immaculate facade
wrapped me in silky petals
then stabbed me with
those desolate eyes.

I still believe
that if I lost my sight,
and saw her no longer,
I would still see her that night.

It’s a way to calm oneself
After a tough day of work.
Clearing your mind,
Or filling it with other thoughts.
You feel refreshed at the end,
But it all hits back on you,
Like the hammer hits
The glowing metal,
Sending sparks of joy away.
Then you feel like
You should meditate again,
And so you do.

Who are you?
The person
who wrote these pages full?
You wear my name,
play my game,
but I don't remember
if you and I
are just the same lie.

Ignore them.
Do what you want.
If they don’t want it,
Then all they are
To you and me,
Are enemies.

In time,
Sparks will fall.
Flames will roar
Over the shimmering horizon.
A well-done sky,
No way to return,
But one way to cry.

It seems to always be those
Who weigh on you the most
That will impressively impose
On the thoughts you host.

If you love your hate,
And hate your love,
You’d be rather irate.
I’d suggest flying a dove,
And make peace,
For the hour strikes late,
And love is in everyone’s fate.

Tiny drops of memories
Flow past our open minds
Bringing back the melancholy
Of a long forgotten childhood.

Maybe it wasn’t your fault
But I resented you for it.
Maybe you did come back
But you changed so much.

Brimming with silent
Trepidation, words come not;
‘Cept my wordless thoughts.

The caring child,
Who hopes for
The goodwill of all,
And believes in everyone.

The caring child,
Who listens to metal,
And writes dark poetry.

The caring child,
Who enjoys cutting
Himself right open,
And has attempted
To take his own life
A regrettable 4 times

Picked up and put down.
Thrown into the ground.
Suffering from pain and hate
My mind goes a blank white,
My blood is stubbornly irate.
The day holds less light,
And the night now controls,
Filling my heart with empty holes.

Outside the world,
Detached from these echos of ours
A set of golden eyes,
Which glint in the sun’s stunning strikes,
And glimmer in the moon’s luminescent lasers,
Watch over the lively realm
And protect the tipping balance,
Which tilts with each grain
That the hourglass will drain.

But I, standing inside this world,
Wonder if those eyes
Are the ones I should trust.