He had a musical talent others strive to have,
I only wanted to hear him,

hear each finger as they touched the strings,
of his left handed base,

get to sit there and listen to him play,
get to hear him play,

get to maybe learn how to play myself,
or just fool around,

perks of being a lefty too,
but I haven't gotten to hear him play,

he for the time being lives far away,
and when miles don't separate us,

the time will,
the time and effort we can put in to see each other,

to hear each other,
waiting for one another will become a painful task,

every summer day will be hard to last because we just,
will eventually get tired,

the same old waiting game,
gets old fast and quick,

and if I remember correctly the last time we got to be together,
my friend felt the decency to kick,

his sack,
and the fact,

even though I repeatedly asked,
what the hell happened,

he nor she nor anyone really,
told me why,

but he told me every reason he thought could of been why,
and I know he didn't lie when he said he didn't know,

I heard him tell me everything he did know,
and that was more then enough for me to know,

how I wanted to hear him play his base,
and listen to him as I played with his hair,

I wanted him to hold me close,
like its too close for comfort,

the sweet whispers sound like screams,
but nothing's out of a bad dream,

this dream is good and real,
and you can hear and feel everything like you're meant to,

I wanted him to leave his mark,
so i'll never forget where he's been,

so it be easier to remember what he has said,
when he treats me with a respect and grace i've never been given,

and even if he does love someone else,
and I can't love him anymore than puppy love,

would I stop caring?
why would I?

even when romance wasn't on the table,
we were friends,

I wanna hear the echoes and repeats playing sound tracks of friends,
because I know I can't,

have him,
and that I dont even deserve him,

but I still want to hear him play,
his left handed base,

and everyday,
I still miss him,

and hope,
**to hear him play.

I live on the Right Side of the Heart,
DeOxygenated blood,
is what I've been labeled,

I'll travel to the lowest level of my Side of the Heart,
From the high and mighty Atrium,
to the low and grave Ventricle,

In the Ventricle, you don't do much except hope,
to get transferred to the Pulmonary Artery,
and that's up to the Muscles to decide if your worthy,

Why do I want to leave my life on the Right Side of the Heart,
and begin my journey to the Pulmonary Artery?
because from there they will send me to the Lungs,

and in the Lungs they will remove the poison of Carbon Dioxide,
making me unworthy of the rest of the Body because of my soul,
and maybe, just maybe, finally I will met the Oxygen I've been longing for,

and maybe my day will come,
but what happens once out of the Lungs?
and granted the Oxygen I deserve?

They will push me out of the Lungs,
Into a familiar home,
Like the Right side of the heart but instead it will be the Left,

and being on the Left side of the Heart,
I'll be allowed to exit and roam free,
across the whole body as they need me,

Because finally someone is going to rely on me,
Finally I will have a purpose,
*Finally I will be Blood.

And he wanted to join,
"the living poets society,"
because it was a club I was in,
and he wanted to hear my poems at my own will,
and write some of his own,
And he wanted to do it,
so he could get close to me,

*But isn't that one thing they argued about,
in the movie?

He is the best liar,
but my worlds,
*one desire,

I have no voice,
Because I have been vomiting up pills each and every morning,
getting into my old anna habits you may say,
I don't wanna live on an ADHD diet,
the pills **** with me,
I'm 174.0lb please,
I am a little heavy,
but it's to the point where,
I was 220,
and I could barely breath,
when I had a panic attack,
so my mom is helping me lose weight,
but pills that make me starve myself,
are ones I wanna do without,
so I ***** each day before I eat,
after I consume the pills,
because she won't let me get off them,
you think im crazy,
but I've lost my weight the way I wanted to,
changed my eating styles,
getting rid of the junk food,
eating healthy,
trying to get over some of my sensory issues,
without having to take a ******* ADHD pill for the last month,
I've lost more weight doing that,
then skipping a meal because I had no hunger,
due to medication,
But I'm being healthy about it,
But I'm also not,
because I told you,
I ***** my pills everyday,
so I'm losing my voice,
like I did,
*In my elementary school days,

and her scars healed,
and her wrists mimicked,
*the treebark,

My breast,
Has a scar,
and I don't know the real lie I've told to so many,
To be Honest,
with myself,
I barely want to know more then the lies I've told
on how I've gotten it,
but I learned that,
boys will hurt you,
and sometimes those things will never leave,
and that they may be,
the only mark you see,
different from the ones on my arms,
and there comes a time in your life,
where you're not scared,
but then you're scared of everything,
you just have to hope for a better tomorrow,
because everything stay with you,
physically,
and mentally,

the sparkles in the hand sanitizer she uses,
is as sparkly and blue as her eyes,
and like her soul was made of the stuff,
she longed to be contained in its bottle,
being told when she could help the wounds from getting anymore worse,

she wanted to feel like she could prevent the sickness that filled her mind,
in anyone else's,
she wanted to save everyone from hurting too bad,
but the eyes that sparkled blue,
hid her tears behind black liner,
hoping the redness would surpass,

just never getting anything you deserve,
and feeling less than seeing nothing but the blackness of close eyes,
like close hearts of those who shut her out,
she just wants to feel more,
and everyone else to feel the same,

*why I loved her cleansing eyes,
and every thought in her smart beautiful mind,

A child thought,
my cuts,
where just from,
paper
*cuts.

My mind may be weak,
but the words i've spoke,
have not gotten their rightful moments,
have been built just to get broken,
and that wasn't what I had chose,

For my words have spoken,
louder than your screams on froze over mountain tops highest peaks,
so loud they will make the snow lung and leap down,

My words have been stronger then body's covered in satin gowns,
But my words are like ghost towns making people white and corps like,
But unlike the pen and paper that is silent,
I can speak these tales of tyrants to beauty,
but I never complete this duty for my mouth feels like foreign tongues,

I try to speak from the heart inside my lungs but words,
and towards the end of my spiel,
I feel like what I said wasn't real,
or the appeal I was going for.

you shut a door on me and my thoughts,
like your my boss who doesn't have to listen to my words,
and discord all the things i've endured.

I've matured enough to know I can't be asking for a cure,
but maybe if you were able to listen to me,
and stop disagreeing to start with,
I'd feel like I wouldn't have to pitch my life story as real,
instead of its normal appeal of a called myth,
because with my ****** life I'd make up **** about what happened?

Things have been
changing, everyday, so its
no wonder, we didn't stay the same,
it's been years since we've been close, and
every time I just happen to run into you, you're
not the same person, who was that person then, you
have built bridges, that you have seem to cross, and
I just seem, to jump off, but the fact of the matter
is, you and I, have changed so much,
we're not the same anymore,
We have tried to
grow up,*
like a child,
stealing her
mother's red lipstick,
we are painted red, but
your red, is a red of beauty
and love, and mine is of blood,
lust and honest disgust, we
have chosen different paths,
and we walk circles
*in the woods,
trying to get to
the center of infinity as
if we can meet again, in the center
paths limbo of the happy end you walk & sad
one I walk, So when we meet in the center, and we
never cross paths, and never talk long enough to hear
each other's life stories, we just end up walking in
that never ending circle, and as we circle; life
hits us with things, some good; some
bad, but for 3.14% of the time
it's as simple as pi to
get through it.

I am a trying to fight myself,
someone who just wants to be right,
but is always wrong,
and what I know,
and what I feel,
are conflicting things,

Because I know how he cares for me,
But I still feel ***** with him,
I still want the boy who ***** me,
to ******* call me,
Like I've been waiting for,
for over a year,

But I love this boy who treats me well,
but I feel like I can't really,
love him,
Like I can't love anyone,
because someone went and ****** me when I really didn't want to,
and they called that love too,

so what the **** do I know about love,
because i've been so blind to it all,
Love from me since the **** has just been appreciations like friends,
and I am sorry that I have hurt you like a boy hurt me sweetie,
but I can't be loved,
and I don't want you to waste your time trying,

so maybe its best if we part ways,
because everyday I feel as if i'm holding you back,
because I am afraid for anymore impact,
because I just want my life back the way it was,
before I knew what **** and abuse was,
before my PTSD unlocked all the secrets from me.

having PTSD showed me,
No sweetie making love to boys,
isn't going to make you happy,
so I can't love someone else even if I willingly want to,
Because is it fair to any boy to be loving me and have me start crying,
because I feel like there the boy who ***** me,

but I know the boy who ***** me is bad,
but I feel like he is the only one who could love,
a mess like me,
because he made the mess,

I just want to feel safe around all guys,
I just want to feel loved,
And my mind and heart,
are a battleground over what I am supposed to do,
because it's hard to move on just a little over a year after you learned,

the boy you loved who you dumped ***** you,
and how your breakup had nothing to do with the ****,
and how that makes everything harder and complicated to get,
and you just are always upset because he still never called,
and you really want that phone call,
so you can say you're sorry,

because you just want to be happy,
because even though things with him were bad,
you were happy,
and you want that back,
instead of crying over the bad thing that happened in the past,
you just want something good again.

Molly,
you never needed to study in school,
things just came to you,
so trigonometry was easier than tools for you,

Molly,
how the boys would tease you,
how you couldn't use tools very well,
but you had your brain,
and they really did not.

Molly,
how smart were you,
trading math lessons,
for help with your mechanics,
the boys soon loved you,

Molly,
How you saved the boys,
and how they saved you,
how you were lucky to never have to fight,
side by side with them,

Molly sweet Molly,
how you cried later on about the day you had to learn to use a gun,
the reason you signed up for the navy was to never have to hold one,
but they made you hold a gun, aim, shoot, and fire down the range,
next to the boys who all had to **** it up & keep a straight upset face.

Molly sweet Molly,
how you were happy as can be,
when shooting targets,
and holding guns when away,
and never came back.

and Molly,
how you finally where done,
made your commitment to america,
and flying home on the plane in your navy uniform,
america won a fight somewhere,

so Molly,
everyone wanted to buy you,
a drink,
your first drink,
in a long while.

Timothy,
today was supposed to be your birthday,-Dad
Timothy,
I took your place, -Maria
Timothy,
Mommy cried in the kitchen,-MaryAnne
Timothy,
Where have you been?-Mom

Timothy,
we never got to throw,-Dad
Timothy,
My life's such a waste,-Maria
Timothy,
I found your spaceship,-MaryAnne
Timothy,
Where did you go?-Mom

Timothy,
Missed your birthday,-Dad
Timothy,
Never got to use your legs,-Maria
Timothy,
Daddy says it's the farthest you've ever flown,-MaryAnne
Timothy,
I feel alone,-Mom

Timothy,
Missed your photo,-Dad
Timothy,
To walk around this whole big mess,-Maria
Timothy,
We found your spaceship,-MaryAnne
Timothy,
you're not ever going to be alone,-Mom

Timothy,
you never got to uses your head,-Dad
Timothy,
Its not what it seems,-Maria
Timothy,
Did it hurt when you hit the ground?-MaryAnne
Timothy,
I love you babe,-Mom

Timothy,
to find out what this whole world thing meant,-Dad
Timothy,
but it is,-Maria
Timothy,
Where have you been?-MaryAnne
Timothy,
Missed your photo,-Mom

Timothy,
Missed your photos,
Missed your birthday too,-Dad

Timothy,
I took your place,
Life's such a waste,-Maria

Timothy,
We found your spaceship,
Its the farthest you've ever flown,-MaryAnne

Timothy,
I cried in the kitchen to let you go,
Timothy,
Why can't you just come home?-Mom.

Dear My sweetie Maria,
Growing up,
isn't such a lovely cup of tea,
and girls with the grace of honey bee's,
don't always get what we hoped for,

and some may have shut the door on your corps,
but you clearly wanted more then to smell the affair in the air,
like how children always cared with every strand of hair in there body,
we say our prayers even if our minds were foggy,

Stormy weather is when I see you walking in the rain,
as if the pain will drain and you're looking to gain something too,
and if we could break threw you and your secrets,
we can help you get through all your weakness and pain.

but you've chained your life story and locked the key in your book,
and if there was a way to look I would,
I know your not understood but listen when I say,
"I'd give my happiness away any day for you to feel happy and okay,"

But Maria says "she's dying,"
though her door all I here is her crying,
and i'm fighting for this door to open up,
and Maria came out to show she didn't completely give up on herself,

but Maria isn't protecting her I'm not either,
Maria neither cares to survive or die,
Maria won't say why, or let alone goodbye,
and Maria's alive because of the pulse,

like the machine your impulse to not pull the plug,
even though they feel as worthless as bugs we **** for nothing,
because the thing about bugs,
we find them to be worthless and bugging so we pull their plugs,

Maria I don't want to pull your plug,
but Maria, you're like the bugs,
the bugs who are your friends,
but you all attend; a part in a oddball circus tightrope act.

some walked on and got claps while others fell as they failed again,
but Maria remained on the wire,
until Maria went up to higher stories in the air,
climbed a story for every story Maria never cared to tell,

Maria screamed and yelled "Are you looking up at the building?"
"I'm thinking of jumping, I'm tired of living this life,"
"I'm tired of this ******* knife, it doesn't help me,"
"I'm just tired of wanting Something,"

"I was just a girl outside, and he disgusted me,"
"he tried to drown me in this sea of lies he told and did,"
"I was a kid, I had hid this for so long thinking I did wrong,"
"I just never belonged, I'm ruined don't you see, I am worth nothing,"

"I just see nothing here, just Nothing"
"so I'm falling down here, so try and catch me, but i'm falling,"
"I Just can't see nothing,"
"here.."

Dear my sweetie Mary Anne,
you will be better then?
you will be better than what everyone is doing in the world,
but you take so much time trying to get the details right,
and don't get me wrong,
you did a lot of things right for a girl,

but Mary Anne,
she took you out to see,
all the places you details, kept you from being,
and she made you believe,
that the world was full of your opportunities.

so you,
had a lot of girlfriends,
but didn't really know them,
all you remembered was the one butterfly to set you free,

but Mary Anne,
she took you out to see,
but you couldn't get over her, so you plead,
you both were not able to be,
because she saw you,
but you were still too weak,
a butterfly isn't strong enough to hold you,

so do you want to go back?
when you were just okay with life,
and never have meat the girl of your dreams,
working a mediocre job,
day in and day out,
just to make money like a breeze?

but Mary Anne,
she took you out to see,
and you know you were right where,
you wanted to be,
and Mary Anne she makes your tummy rubble like the sea,
filled to the brim with little butterflies in reverse,
there uneased,

but she isn't just like normal girls,
she takes time, and heart,
and love, from more than a world,
of book smarts,

so Mary Anne,
can you agree,
to love her forever,
and treat her with dignity,

But Mary Anne,
she took you out to see,
all the things she saw your heart was missing,
and you found it as she was stitching,
your heart to hers,
her heart to yours,

so Mary Anne,
She took you out to see,
that she loves you,
and she wants you to love her,
and you're destined to be,

and mama here,
blesses you to be,
with her forever as you please,
I love you both,
and you're both daughters to me,

Rest peacefully, sweet 16! You hope and dream to every poet who has a wound,
You tool for peaceful news,
You champagne of finer drink,
For what does thou think?
Beautiful masterpiece you,
For you have a glow that flows to moons,
Not seen by scholars of man!
Ancient stand!
For don't let the brutal boys tease you,
For they can't please you as you can't please yourself.
I see your bruises and welts you hide under your bands,
For the lips in thy picture really draw a characture of you!
Cupid of cat alley soothe...

I can't look into,
those eyes,

eyes that I've learned will judge you,
eyes, that will make or break you,

no,
please no.

I can't look into those eyes,
*but I look you in the eyes,

and every memory,
or being laughed at is erased,

all I see is your beautiful face,
and maybe the laughing memories comeback,

because all I think is,
I wanna kiss you,

and how much,
your going to laugh at me,

if I did,

he has a left handed base,
and I want to hear him play,

but he is in vermont,
for the winters,
but that's alright,
we can have the summers,

but I will be working,
and trying to get my truck I wanted,
and he will be waiting,
daily for me,

he will eventually get tired,
of waiting for me,
to hear him play,
right?

see,
I love him,
even though the last time I was with him,
my friend kicked his sack,

do I know why,
nope,
will he, she, or anyone tell me,
why they hell they were made at him?

nope...
but I love him,
I love his long hair,
and his honest mind,

I love how he doesn't call me pretty,
but still does with his eyes.
I love how he just means what he says,
and says what he means,

I love how he,
says he thinks he loves me,
and how he doesn't get mad when I cry,
I love when he holds me,

I love when he kisses me,
and kisses my neck,
and leaves marks,
to make sure I don't forget where he was,

I love how he doesn't make me **** him,
or **** his ****,
unless I want to,
but,

I hate,
how I won't get to hear his base,
still,
and how I miss him,

Everyone has those days,
Where they just can seem to pay attention,
Where all they want to do is look out the window.
For me, Its everyday,

Everyday since I could remember misspelling my name at the top of my paper,
That went on till I was in third grade,
Its funny how I can write it so simply now,
And how the spelling of my name,
Used to be the least of my worries.

I remember when I used to jump around all the time,
Not ever being able to calm down,
Now I have that restless leg syndrome,
Whenever I’m called on by a teacher,
My anxiety kicks in,
But I still have to sit there uncomfortably,
And answer their question,

Honestly, its not fair,
When people think its all an act,
I wish they would see how I struggled,
When I’m unable to ask for things I really need,
Because I’d rather take a zero then let someone make me feel,
Less then,

More than I already do,
When I am the awkward one,
with my “friends” in the conversations,
Not being socially acceptable,
Because sometimes I talk when I shouldn’t,
Or don’t always get everything,

But when teachers don’t even want to try,
And understand you,
And maybe help you when they're supposed to,

Why do they expect me to keep trying?
When I’d get the same results,
if I just gave up.

This is what happens when you have an unseen disability,
Because no one believes it's a really thing,
So everyone gives up,

Everyone thinks kids use it as an excuse to be lazy,
But anyone with it,
Know how hard it takes to work for something,
And then watch it mean nothing.

you whispered into my ear,
and it reached my heart,
like when we were kids,
and this was all thing we were told to keep,
Shhhhhh,
a secret.

and the secret you bore on me,
was the words,
I love you,
but,
Shhhhhh,
because this is,
the big secret

I love you
is his one word short white lie,
of,
I hate you
but you've Shhhhhhed me,
with your **kissing,

you,
                         drowned,                                                      
  ­ me,      
                and,
now i'm trying to get...*                 **sober,

I write,
about my ****** life.
but my words,
have giving you a sun shine,
like one that I have been removed from,
by the monster's night.

and sunshine,
you pull my dark words,
out of the night,
and let them shine,
and give them a meaning I only hoped for them to have,
like new parents,
hoping and dreaming,
every dream for there new baby,

my words,
are like my dreams,
my parents never gave me,
and the fact someone but me cares about them,
makes me remember that even though,
the sun may set,
like we all must rest,
when we wake,
the sun shines,
for us.

I love'd you,
with open hearts,
your love,
was* **stimulating.

I want to film,
the bee,
inside my broken *window,

I wanted to help,
but,
People need more than words.

she owned scars,
but also owned,
the best,
sweater collection,

and you,
hit.
with open fists.
instead of,
closed palms.

and I thought that,
somewhere inside us,
we held love,

but it had gotten misused,
by you,
and love crumbled.

and hope,
for you to stop,
led you to close,

open palms,
into closed ones,
and mutate bruises,
on flesh.

and threw away all hope,
like the key,
to love,

hit.
with open *fists.

like *maybe,

you're open,
to *stop,