She picks me up,
Dresses me in blue.
Clothes me in lace,
All dolled up, shiny and new.

We play our games,
I always lose;
I'm just the doll,
I let the girl choose.

We play for awhile,
And my threads begin to fray;
With every tug and pull,
She strains me with her play.

To her it's all fun,
My feelings: she's unaware;
But slowly I'm dying,
As my seams wither and tear.

Until one day,
Something finally snaps;
My threads unravel,
I'm riddled painful gaps!

So like the dolls before,
She'll toss me in the trash;
And out to browse some more,
For the next unlucky catch.

I began as a sprouting blade of grass like Whitman said.
And among the millions of green leaves, I am.

Ground, oh found me dead, rooted where I stay,
I once dreamt to uproot and walk away.
Was I foolish in those days, and in my thoughts;
To dream of Life while Death lovingly held my hand?

Life's short part and Death's long verse,
And I, as they act their roles upon the stage my soul,
Weep for their sense to be sung.

In London zoo a lion escaped
They forgot to lock his cage
It disappeared into the night
Hungry, filled with rage

Poor old Brian had lost his job
His life had hit the skids
His wife moved in with his mate
She also took his kids

He hit the bottle pretty hard
He started to get ill
His grandma died, he got the call
Turns out she had a will

She had millions in the bank
And she left it all to Brian
But on his way to cash the cheque
He was eaten by a lion.....

"I'll wait for you,"
when we were kids,
you had said.

But Jack's still comatose
and Jill is dead.

You never came.

Broken conversations,
empty lungs,
doors half open,
hearts almost out of love.

We used to talk of how
we used to be infinite.
But now every second now feels
like a stroke against an unforgiving current.

Our conversations broke
as the flaws of our souls
fell through the cracks of this glass foundation.

These upset words that escaped you
left the air around me a little sad,
a little awake,
and with a lot of echoes.

My lungs went empty
talking you down.

I left the door open for you.
So you can walk in
and slip in quietly-
I won't say a word.

And this heart could never go empty,
not mine.
Yours,
at this point,
I know not.

Flowers never lost their color
as long as you walked this earth.

i've been to enough shows to know how people act
when I saw Three Days Grace, people seemed to
avoid each other at all costs
when I saw chevelle, the room was filled with nostalgia
however, I was far too young to understand
I just loved their music, and the way they arranged words
when I saw New Found Glory, I made a friend
People were goofy, fun to be around
when I saw Paramore, there was so many people
no one really cared to interact, but the one girl
who held my camera up for me because I'm not tall enough
when I saw of mice & men, with Bring Me The Horizon
everyone was so full of energy, and took care of each other
and in all these places, and being surrounded
by all these strangers
it all felt like family

If I were air, I’d be the wind on your face as you try to get away on your bike.
Caressing the curvature from your cheekbones to your chin.

If I were brightness, I’d be the flame from your lighter.
Here to light your cigarettes and candles.

If I were clothing, I’d be your t-shirt.
Listening to you inhale defeat and exhale content.

If I were the darkness, I’d be your shadow.
Ever present during the day and holding you at night.

If I were a mystery, I’d be the ocean
You could discover my depth.

If I were a beat, I’d be the ticking of your wristwatch.
A reminder each second that time progresses.

If I were words, I’d arrange myself into a book.
A story to keep you company in the winter.

If I were a spirit, I’d be a ghost.
Silently witnessing how you live.

If I were an addiction, I’d be your last cigarette.
You’d desire to get more of my flavor.

If I were hopefulness, I’d be your ambitions.
In hope that you’d find me buried somewhere in your dreams.

If I were a body part, I’d be your fingernails.
Close to your lips when you become anxious.

If I were a color, I’d be red.
Living within your veins.

But I am not.
You put your hand up to block the wind.
You only strike my flame for a moment, and then put me out.
All I hear are empty sighs
And you’ve become afraid of what is in the darkness.
You’ve learned swim to shore, to escape my vastness
And my loud ticking at night drives you insane.
You’ve read me to boredom.
I feel your presence, but you feel none of mine.
You’ve smoked too much and can’t feel the high anymore,
And you do not dream any more. You only have nightmares.
Your nails are now bitten to the bone.
And you’ve bled yourself dry.