.

Streaks of light.

.

Orange hazes through closed eyelids.

.

Counting cars, watching headlights.

.

Wondering to where everyone speeds off.


//


Lose count.

.

Resort to counting freckles

On your nose.

.

Your face is lit by

Passing cars and

The highways in your eyes.

.

girl of country forests
and dusty magical roads
and the calm on hurricane streets
a tint of pink
sitting on maroon carpets
turning pages of a novel dream

her pale hand on an age old paper
bleak ink and words,
pouring an ocean
with her dark brown eyes
penning thoughts
sending letters into the future

writes notes on sticky pads
in a library of broken hearts
where the rule is to stay quiet
to only scream inside
and just like the books she borrowed,
never let herself fall apart

lazy afternoon adventures
seeking rainbows and smiles
barefoot, feeling cold
on play dates with her dog
which apparently talks to her
when the boys in her school won't

now there could have been someone
who made her dream of a heaven somewhere
but he only took her to a really hot place
something 'hell' said a sign before the door
he let go of her hand, pushed her in
returned back and left her there

this was what she had to become
just like this lonely burning place,
she started within her a fire
a fire no one could douse
she burnt her dreams but never
the forest that grew behind her house

for in the forest, she had to burn
pages, words, letters to the boy
she wrote with bleeding ink
until she had burnt
all the dark memories of yesterday
and found her fiery smile in those flames

she couldn't sleep at night
while everyone dreams, her thoughts loom
spells on the poignant calm in the air
something magical, exciting about this darkness
and when she plays with her pretty dark hair
yet still it remains a lonely, desolate room

but even the night passes
a girl, now in love with sunrises
because even those are just the embers
from a burning sun, a million miles away
oh boy, she still loves a beautiful fire
and waits for a boy to burn in her desire

a girl who used to be the calm
has now become a storm
but she keeps reminding to herself
there are souls who still love art and light
so that's why even broken pieces, ashes and fires
can make a beautiful home

I am the universe.
I am abstract.
I am a collection of nothings and everythings.
My very being is a quantam equation,
Drowned in emotion
while being completely numb
Longing for a good life
and also for the sweet serenity that is death.
I am not a solid structure
but rather a blur of colour and motion
Whose beauty is undermined by many
and cast out by most.
But still I stay true to my own colours,
even if I don't particularly fancy the painting.
My colours are vast
and individually very beautiful.
I am working on seeing them as they are--
blended and confusing and unclear--
and seeing that as beautiful.
I am abstract.
I am the universe.

I am the universe.
I am woven with the threads of existence
and infinity.
I am at my beginning,
small and undeveloped
with the capability for so much.
One day I will erupt
in a brilliant display of power,
displaying myself boldly and spectacularly
But for now I hold it within,
my potential growing and growing
until something within me happens just right
and I can truly blossom.
I will use my power to build myself up
until I don't have to try anymore.
They say I will get so big
that I will destroy myself,
crushing myself back down to nothing
To less than nothing.
But I think that's happened before,
because I am nothing at the moment
And nothingness has never been so valuable.
I am woven with the threads of existence
and infinity.
I am the universe.

I am the universe.
I am beautifully unaware of myself
while creating something even more fantastic
Than my destiny tells me I can be
Because I am nebulae and galaxies
and starts and planets
and vast expanses of so-called "emptiness"
That is really filled
with gorgeous, deep, silken black.
I am the stars aligned,
the pure work of billions of subatomic particles
buzzing about frantically with their errands,
not even knowing what those errands are--
Just knowing that what they are doing
is what they must do.
I am the miracle of life
and the beauty of death
and the thrill of everything in between.
I am the mystery of what comes before birth
and the fear of what comes after dying.
I am the cosmos looking at its own reflection
Observing itself
Knowing itself
Being itself
I am massive, yet so, so small
but I question my worth
every time I dare to glance at the fibers
That hold together the fabric of my being.
I am eternity;
I am the clock which sits unnoticed
until I am needed,
or when boredom strikes and I become a last resort
To lessen the loneliness.
But the truth is,
I am loneliness.
I am a broken heart,
my blood seeping into all that is.
I am the tears welling in the eyes
of the kid down the street
Who has no choice
but to take a blade to his skin
just to breathe again.
I am his breath.
I am the ground beneath him
and the sky above him.
I am the face he sees in the mirror;
I am the hatred he sees when he looks at it.
I am the love in his soul
The blood in his veins
The scent of his skin
The beating of his heart
I am his heart.

I am the universe.

Know who you are and let noone degrade you,
Don't let anyone define who you are,do it yourself,
Don't lower your standards to fit the standards of others because if someone loves you they'll definitely respect your standards and limits!
You deserve respect,respect yourself first to enable others to do the same,
Know your worth!if someone doesn't respect your values then its plain and simple,they don't love you,.