Like an airplane reaching its climb they break through
My once composed and seamless blanket is now a
        valley of holes punctured and breaking,
They seep into my pores and leave me shaking.

These words manifested as bullets and knives
To do endless damage, leave me barely alive.

But the friendliest of fire is what hurts me the most,
My most powerful enemy and advisory is the one
         free to coast.
That who truly knows what is inly flung,
In myself, only I can be undone.

My exterior is a thin barrier,
My only defense against the world.

Ode to the Artists
The givers of life
The ones who bring joy
And wondrous strife

Ode to the Poets
The ones who keep giving
The writers with nothing
Who make life worth living

Ode to the Music Makers
Who give melody to all
For life without glorious tune
Would be our downfall

Ode to the Travelers
The ones who devise
They stray far away
And never think twice

Ode to the Dreamers
The ones who make it true
They prove the impossible
To all who need but believe, and do

And Ode to the so-called Wicked
The ones they cast out
Who all know true sorrow
And armed with that, we breakout!

Breakout of convention
Of the daily routines
We make it our mission
To dare and do what we dream

For the ones who are ordinary
Who stay within the lines
They don't achieve anything at all
And live life unalive.

Through thought, through mind
We leave this average world behind

Leave behind common sense
To take a chance and leap
All you need is a mind of openness
To bound through realms for you to keep

Stuck in a world full of duller minds
We're surrounded by those who will never understand
Inward we turn for adventure to find
For we have but one chance to escape this land

I escape to a place beyond compare
A place only I see beautifully
A sunkissed ocean I will only share
With he who makes sense of my poetry

Until then, I wait to change my fate
Like those who came before me
Hoping to find, and leave behind
The person I'm expected to be

I feel foggy
With this self-medication,
        my mind thickens still
An unasked yet unanswered query
What exactly is in this pill?

A means without end
An end far from near,
        there's a pain in my heart
The saddened fate of system made,
        too late to tear apart.

Cuts so deep
I run me through
What am I supposed to do

The enemy of my own creation
This depression is a tireless hell
My greatest secret born in devastation
One many bare but dare not tell

The physical cuts are only skin deep
To those who live this wretched life
A window to the war raging within
Remain on the outside in lonely strife

We lie and put on a face
Unwilling to show the mess below
I know not how to share my case
With the people who love me so

So the battle rages within
The hands cut deep, the memories bleed
And I am alone.

Sitting here, next to you,
Side by side, as idle equals,
A girls heart is not as tough,
A boy's hands are just as rough.
We play and laugh, you make me cry,
I truly think I might just die.

Sitting here, next to you,
Side by side, as idle equals,
Gonna lose me at the drop of a hat,
No, I’m worth more than that.
Make me think I’m letting you down when I say no,
I think I’ll lose you altogether if I say go.

Sitting here, next to you,
Side by side, as idle equals,
You say that I am special, but we both know I’m not,
And you get what it is, that notch that you want.
I forgive you, and go on, with my unforgetting mind,
Don’t you know that I’m really not gonna be just fine?

You start to wonder what it was that you did that blew it,
The truth is we know, what you did and why you do it.
Make me feel like nothing, like trash, like ****,
Funny how I’m the one who always takes the hit.
And sitting here, next to you, two lives whose manor will never cross,
I know now, that we will never be idle equals.

The night is like an ocean of mystery,
        taking you where to go,
to the deep, until the light makes you go away.

At night you dream while I explore,
         the weary midnight dreams.
The mysteries of the deep.

The night words.
The light words.
Until twilight
         a new night to sail on.

One single little bird
A sad sorrow voice trying to be heard
Engulfed in raindrops and feathers
Waiting for an answer.

The chirp of one
Surrounded by its music, wishing he were done
Its song carried on the branches and arboreal wind
All alone, answering its own echo.

The woods know nothing of your great ordeal
The light leads you to the place you are bound
And in the end, all of the wounds will heal.

From trees, the leaves, fall to the Earth and conceal
Which lay in wait upon the laden ground
The woods know nothing of your great ordeal,

Each bird's sweet song will only help you deal
With that which was what made your heart feel drowned
And in the end, all of the wounds will heal.

It’s not a simple thing a poet spiels
At once you have a sense that you are found
The woods know nothing of your great ordeal,

The world around will have a certain appeal
Your feet lead you towards that which will astound
And in the end, all of the wounds will heal.

It’s hard to have a past that you must seal
But nature will help you feel quite unbound
The woods know nothing of your great ordeal,
And in the end all of the wounds will heal.

Two separate pillars,
        full of love and hate
Making their way down the gradual *****
        fast, but not fast enough.

My heart beats of a sad song of its own, a song of love
These pillars of love
Streaking my face
Painting in new colors
Descending one after another, freefall after freefall,
         neverending

Descending as silent as silhouettes
Each one dances to its own song, but all serving
         a greater purpose
Each an unspoken lullaby

A melody of its own
If only I held the power of composition
If only that I had known
A remedy of a memory long forgotten
But if it's a story you're looking for
Then I ask you not to inquire again.
          Not again.               Nevermore.

I was standing
      at my window
And all day I saw,
      across the way I saw,
On someone’s windowsill,
A geranium.

It looked like it was glowing,
       bright red
Almost looking like a tiny heart,
Far away.

Leading chance perchance to get
I try to find what's forward set
And all for those who created me
On the road I go and seemed to be
I easily stumble and lose my whit,
And I doubt myself, but I can do it.

Creating a path with leaps and bounds
Now hense I go forth, no turning around
But if I could I would look back
Upon the choices which I am set
I easily stumble and lose my whit,
And I doubt myself, but I can do it.

And if I try I might just take
A moment to think, or stop and break
Break from a path which I pushed forth
Upon those supportive of my chosen course
I easily stumble and lose my whit,
And I doubt myself, but I can do it.

I look back with stupor at how I got away
But I must treck on like any other day
The more I wonder, the more I trip
The further I question my kinship
I easily stumble and lose my whit,
I doubt myself, can I do it?

A single thought
          can tear apart
What has been said
          to a lonely heart

A heart so fine
          so dear
It’s innocence stays
         and keeps it clear

This heart of mine
         you cannot hold
For two hands simply
         can break it alone

So alone I stay
         alone I remain
Using this excuse
         with inward shame

I dare not put
        my heart on the line
For I know it will break
        and no longer shine

So don’t think to pine
         this heart I bare
This weight, I carry alone
         and dare not share.

It often seems to me that the night
       remains
richer and more vibrant than the day

I bring you my heart as you would a flower. Take it, put it to your nose, press it to your lips, pin it to your breast.

There is no end
Nor can there ever be
For we are bound
Eternally.

Moving like a zombie from place to place
Walking a routine path, but never moving forward.

Wanderlust.
Wanderlost.
Where exactly am I going?

Two separate pillars
        full of love and hate
Making their way down the gradual *****
        fast, but not fast enough

Falling silent as silhouettes
Each one dances to its own song,
        a greater purpose with each to serve
An unspoken lullaby

These pillars of thought
        streak down my face
A remedy of memory long forgotten
Painted, in new colors

A melody of its own
If only I held the power of composition,
       if only that I had known
But if it's a story you're looking for,
Then I ask you not to inquire again.
        Not again.        Nevermore.

Does a poem have to be thought out
does it take years to edit and perfect

Or can it be,
can it just remain,
a few simple, raw lines

On my 20th birthday
I checked myself out,
And into a hospital.

Little did I know
Nor could let show,
A girl so hidden and lonely.