I'm caught in the middle,
Of someone else's game.
Twisted as hell,
I stay the same.

Try as I might,
There is no reward.
No lover to hold,
No future to look toward.

How long can I last,
In this diseased state?
How long can I pivot,
And avoid my fate?

The road will end
With an unfulfilled dream.
A man torn asunder
By his self-esteem.

Tears will be wept,
But nothing will be lost.
For I am an empty vessel,
Battered and tossed.

In a dream, I saw myself,
Then erupted into tears.
The innocence shown then
Was destroyed throughout the years.

A glass shattered to a million pieces,
Will never be the same.
Glue it together if you want,
All it keeps is its name.

A car left abandoned,
Falls into disrepair.
It will never run right,
Upon this I swear.

People are the same,
Clinging to a better time.
Staying stuck in place,
Destined to never climb.

In a dream, I saw myself,
Then erupted into tears.
The innocence shown then
Was destroyed throughout the years.

His eyes penetrate the mirror,
And the glass penetrates him back.
Tears rain down his cheeks,
And his semblance undergoes a crack.

His head hits the pillow,
His eyelashes flutter along to dreams.
Mother watches with weepy eyes,
Then sunlight through the window beams.

His heart flutters like a leaf in a breeze,
Excited by the man before his eyes.
For years he has struggled
With this affection he was taught to despise.

Even as his heart tells him what to do,
The boy continues to hide his truth.
It seems there is much to lose,
It seems a way to ruin his youth.

But the secret ails him—
A condition untreated.
Without exploration,
His heart remains defeated.

Destruction clasps onto him, an iron grip,
And his demons come alive.
He begins to hate himself,
Struggling to survive.

Hatred finds him during his adolescence—
Like a deadly blade wishing him dead.
To survive, he learns a simple truth—
His beliefs must be shed.

Now a cloak of happiness hangs from his shoulders—
His boyfriend is in his arms.
He has parted with society’s silly notions,
Of which only dealt him harm.

Broken humanity will often falter,
As it ponders which mold to fill in,
Ponders what it must alter,
Which path it must begin.

It is a trembling, cowering bird that hides
Within each of our hearts,
Somewhere in a dark corner it abides,
Made up of many broken parts.

We have the role of nursing the bird,
Bringing it back to its purest condition,
There is a fire that must be stirred,
A stunning, unbridled and pure rendition.

Our flaws make us who we are,
At least, that is what I am told.
But if I wanted to change my flaws,
Would you deem that too bold?

I feel quite dismal, when I gaze.
When I look into the mirror.
My face is not astounding,
I see very little, I fear.

When I search my soul,
I also see little beauty there.
I think that if I could read thoughts,
I'd learn that few actually care.

My flaws do not make me happy,
They seek my constant attention.
I have flaws that are hidden,
Ones that I dare not mention.

I will change what I can,
That is all that I can do.
After that, I will accept the rest,
Then maybe I won't be quite so blue.

My future seems set in stone,
The path before me, known.
Spent in solace, all alone.
Hiding from what I can't atone,

I lost myself in passion,
And traded virtue for lust.
Kissing two strangers,
Then dissolving to dust.

I cried in my mother's arms,
As I questioned my life.
How I traded innocence for guilt,
How I traded joy for strife.

The kiss of a stranger,
Is an empty thing.
Whereas the kiss of a lover,
Can make one's heart sing.

We all make mistakes,
That's what mother said.
But I despise the things I do,
I'd be better off dead.

When will this tumult end,
When will I be free?
When will I be loved,
When will I discover "me"?

I am so cold and so empty,
And without any light.
And without a shred,
I've lost my fight.

Frostbite fingertips, chilly they are,
Far more appealing than the faraway stars.
That's why my eyes turn to you during winter night,
Your frostbite fingertips, caressing my cheek are light.

Just as dreams are for dreamers, love is for lovers,
And that passionate feeling around us hovers.
Others doubt, but the stars above know,
When compared to our passion, dim is their glow.

Your fingertips, cold on this snowy night,
Rejuvenate me and emblazon my life with light.
If hypothermia were to claim me now,
I hope others wouldn't long ponder how.

I'll lose myself in you any day of the year,
Even during winter, you resolve my fear.

Boy with blue eyes,
Break my heart.
Your plush lips
Are a work of art.
Lost in your scent;
Cool breath, pure smile.
It holds me in place,
Yet makes my heart travel a mile.
Kiss away my tears,
And pull me tight.
If this is wrong,
I don't want to be right.

I'm in love with the idea of being in love,
Of kissing a boy, of having enough.
I trust in the process of having trust,
Of flying free like the happiest dove.
I'm in love with the idea of being in love,
But more so in love with all of the above.

Derick knew what he had done,
To earn the impression of delinquency.
He had broken the law many times,
And fought with people frequently.

His mother branded him a danger,
To society and himself.
His father branded him a stranger,
His real son lived upon a shelf.

"See this boy here?" his dad would say,
Tapping a photograph of young Derick.
He remembered that day,
When life had been more generic.

That was before his father slouched alone,
Bottle in palm of hand,
Talking to women on the phone,
What a role model, what a man.

"I see the boy," Derrick said,
His voice quiet as night.
"But I don't see the man,
Who prompted me to fight."

Little Derik came across his father,
Back then, talking to his women,
He managed to anger the man,
Who hit him then claimed to be kiddin'.

His father flushed with anger,
He hit his son in the face.
"Don't you dare say that,
You know your place!"

Derick, he was deemed society's menace,
Few cared that his father drove him so,
I hope that you will judge less,
For you simply never know.

Whenever I must add new people to my life,
I feel that it is my duty to be my most likable version,
And because of that, I wear makeup, straighten my hair,
And lose myself in aesthetic immersion.

I feel better when I feel pretty,
And that breaks my heart.
I never thought my happiness,
Was such a simple and vain art.

Babbling like a fool,
Proving myself a tool,
I see judgment in those eyes,
I know I am despised.

My mouth closes then,
This is not my friend.
They think I am dumb,
I feel oh so numb.

Mouth, know your place,
It is inferior, like your face.
Please, get in line,
That disdain is a sign.

Speaking is not meant for me,
I am a total freak.
They know it on sight,
My chest is so tight.

Put me out of my suffering,
Their judgment is puncturing.
Their eyes are deadly blades,
I wish that I could fade.

Strength does not just exist,
It grows over time,
And if you poison the soil,
It will never transcend grime.

Flowers spring up when nurtured,
But wither away when left alone;
Winter will **** them also,
This has been continually shown.

The process needs the right environment,
Or it will never be completed.
And as you pick yourself up from the dirt,
You will wonder why you are always defeated.

The noise never falters away,
What it is, I cannot say.
It plays in my head like a twisted song,
It tells me what I am doing wrong.

Sometimes it seems to play aloud,
And I question why others don't see its shroud.
But my mind is what is slipping,
The seams are tearing, ripping.

I am not crazy. But I do suffer.
I tell myself to be tougher.
But words are nothing in the face of fear.
They are nothing to stop my tears.

I dream of silence, it seems grand.
I dream of a different time, different land.
Books take me far, I escape it all.
But one day, I might still fall.

The world brought me to my knees so often that
I chained myself to a wall;
Though I am secured to its masonry,
From time to time I start to fall.

Wrists slide from their shackles, to the abyss below,
Where the quiet seems to stretch out like a warm embrace.
Where the trembling lips and shaking forms cease,
Where no longer exist the tears that roll down my face.

But perhaps I have too much resilience,
To break away from my *******;
Though I often squirm against the metal,
Feeling as if I've been taken hostage.

Each morning I wake in peaceful silence,
Yawning, stretching, starting the day.
But a mournful agony screeches inside,
Manipulating my thoughts and the words I say.

The world brought me to my knees so often that
I chained myself to a wall;
Though I am secured to its masonry,
From time to time I start to fall.