im three years old and i watch the fireflies dance.
the reflection of the light sparkles in my eyes, and all that I want is to see them glow.

five years old, and i dance with the fireflies even though my parents tell me not to. jumping, twirling, falling on the sand while the water laps the beach's edge, leaving behind little pieces of seaweed like memories. I believe that if I try hard enough I can glow as bright as them. I know what I want.

10 years old, and i'm trying to catch the fireflies. To hold one in my fist, and have that little light be mine. I know what I want.

23, lying on the beach with a paper and pen. fireflies dance around my head, but they are less of a novelty and more of an annoyance. I swat at them with a furrowed brow and impatient hands. I grab the firefly, and crush it in my hand, watching the light fade out. I do not know what I want.

Darling, Dear Darling; What if I was to tell you?

What if I was to tell you nobody's really real; Not the Barber, Not the postman, Just you and me, Floating in space on the spinning rock called earth. And if I was to tell you, Darling, that they were all inside our minds, Would you take my side and face it all, just us?

Darling, Dear darling, what if I was to tell you that the animals are none aswell; Flicker in, flicker out, they're fading away, The image is weakening. Darling, I fear soon it will just be me and you, trapped in our minds, side by side, floating in Space on a spinning rock called Earth.

Darling, dear darling, What If I was to tell you that the trees are dimming too? We're losing them, the pines, the oak, the cedar; They were never real either. All inside our minds... But it's okay now, it's alright little darling; We'll face the world hand in hand, floating in Space on a spinning rock called Earth.

Darling, last night, when I looked upon your shadow, It flickered unsuspectingly.
Now, darling, dear darling, Isn't that absurd?

Darling.
Dear, dear darling.

Now, what If I was to tell you that you've lied to me along? What If I now said that you were a part of it all, aswell?
What If I pronounced that perhaps it's just been me, Floating all alone on in Space on a spinning rock called Earth.
Dear, you're flickering out. You're fading. You're leaving, to somewhere; to the place where the things that don't exist go.

Take me with you, darling.
Let me escape my mind.

when i was small and delicate
my parents were so worried
they grew up quite the pessimissts
and panicked in a hurry
so when I swallowed a firefly
their grabby hands and tight faces
thought called out 'will she die?'
they opened up my mouth and poked around in the dark places
they had such an uptight lifestyle
however, i was the opposite
the firefly i swallowed was shining through my smile.

Don't get cocky. You're just a coincidence. You're a mash of atoms. You are not special.
You're another group of cells that wanders until snatched by death. You will not leave anything. You do not matter.

You could be the president, you could be a star- you could have an army. It does not matter. You do not matter. You will not leave anything. You cannot, and that is for the best.
You are so, so small. You cannot effect anything. You are just a droplet. A droplet of atoms & brain cells, that goes around telling others they're a special droplet, when you're lying.
But, it's okay. What's a lie in a world of pretentious little atoms sipping tea & reading books?
Make of it what you please, little being. You're no special snowflake.
You are nothing.

Listen, Please.
Listen to the way the birds quietly fly away, the sound of their wings.
The way they soar above it all, Like nothing could touch them.
Like they exist in this alternate world, Where there's no fake plastic people with smiles plastered onto their faces.
I wish I could be one of them.
Just soaring above it all.
I wonder If I'd miss this.
The subtle sound of the traffic rushing by.
The way my sister giggles at everything and everybody.
The ever so slight pattering sounds of the rain on a windshield.
And how sometimes, in this trashed up world, You'll find a gem.
Somebody untouched, Somebody worth doing something for.
Someone who gives something meaning.
They aren't easy to find, these gems of people.
But they're out there.
Dancing in the rain, Singing in the shower.
Swimming in ice-cold lakes then laughing till it hurts.
Climbing trees and staying young forever.
You won't find them where you expect to.
They'll just show up, And make you feel something you didn't think you could feel.
The kind of people who actually listen to the world around them, And don't just pass by unaware.
Unaware of the way the tulips bloom in spring, All dewdroplets and petals.
Unaware of the fact that right now, There could be a million little souls being brought into this trashed up world.
Not even paying attention to slippery wood of a rained on deck, or the sound of the bullfrogs late at night.
I guess you wouldn't know these feelings, Because you probably live in a suburban, cemented over 'paradise' us creatures have come to love.
But I will tell you one thing-
Live a real life.
A life full of art and full of adventure.
A life where you gasp and laugh and cry sometimes.
A lively life. Where you're aware of yourself, And the wonder that is the world.
Because if you don't,
Life isn't really worth living at all.

You are not the scars on your body, and you are not the mistakes you have made, and you are not the people who have hurt you

You are the sun & the stars and music late at night and bare feet on fresh grass. You are all the things that keep you alive when it's 1am and your insides are screaming.

we do not see

the things unseen

the childrens cry

the mothers scream

we do not care

unless it's here

unless it hurts us

unless we dare

confront the things

we best ignore

the things that we

let happen

dripping eyes

tearing skin

trying hard

to hurt within

because sometimes pain

is the last thing

we feel

and sometimes it is

better to feel pain

than to feel nothing

*at all

I traded my mind out for him, because I knew he’d have enough to fill the void inside my head.

i think I want to go to sleep.
Drifting, Drifting,
Beautifly.
Softly.
Like nobody would even wake me again.
Like I would never wake again.
That's what I want.
I beg you.
Drift me to sleep, And never wake me.
Never.
To fly away, Slowly, Softly, Just bouncing on the waves of time
That's what I want.
I don't think they can feel anymore. I think they've come too far for that.
I guess I'll never know, because today, today is the day I drift myself off and never wake.
I like to think
that I might be remembered for something other than this.
That I might be remembered for my art.
Or the way I smiled at the birds.
But I know they won't remember.
They'll just say they're sorry.
They'll just say they wished they'd done something.
But that's a lie. I'd rather just drift away then believe that.
I pray to drift me away softly, Boucing on the riverbed.
I hope nobody ever finds me, I don't want to be found.
I want to be hidden away in the folds of the earth, to stay buried and blanketed by the world.
Without a distrupion in sight, I want to lay, covered by sound and time.
But I can't want anymore. And I won't want anymore.
It's time to do.
I think I want it to be beautiful.
I want to jump off a cliff, and for that one moment, to be suspended in time, freefalling but really not falling at all.
Soaring.  
Above it all, Above emotion and conciousness.
I just want to float in time, So they all forget about me.
So I can stay forever blanketed in the world's folds.
Just me, and whatever is on the other side.
Just promise you won't forget me.
Promise.

Darling, you've swallowed sunshine and it's showing through your smile.

i push people away
because i fear if i do not
they may eventually realize
that i am not worth it
and i would rather do the pushing
then be the one who's left to burn
alone

From the eager age of three, my mother taught me not to draw on myself, or I would get ink poisoning. Every time ink touched me, I'd wash it away with a warm cloth and some lingering worry. You wrote our initials on my ankle in deep blue pen, and I kept my left leg out of the bath for a week.
At the spritely age of eight, my mother made me promise never to talk to strangers. I kept my head down and my walls built high and I never said a peep to a stranger wrapped in shadow.
The first day I met you, I lay all my secrets down on that warm summer concrete and watched while you picked through them. (You didn't mind.)
Twelve years old, with a crooked, hopeful smile and my mother sat me down to talk about drugs. Those crazy, tempting things that will take away all your inhibitions and make you forget the very lessons that formed who you are. More addictive than anything you've ever had. They'll make you feel higher than the empire state building; without them, you'll go through a withdrawl worse than anything. A coexistent dependancy that will take over yourself. She reeled off a listen of words; Esctasy, LSD, ******, Crack. Somehow, she forgot to mention your name.

and i smashed our lips together again*

in a desperate attempt

                              *to make myself feel something

the lonely man drives
searching dirt roads to find the river’s gold.
passing passengers and dancers;
he held the best conversations
with those who didn’t speak his words
a tumbling terrace of homes,
twisting trees hugged by a wreath of children resting,
fingerprints faded onto a crinkled map
along the road, the shining smile lured him away
from his paper destination
the galloping hills whispered promises of piling gold,
but the truck driver was lead only by his toes.
turns out the faded map held nothing but memories
an echo of of turquoise laughter and crooked smiles soon to be forgotten;
the gold had been spun into his twinkling travels,
and yet he continued forward in a million different directions,
searching for something he had left behind.
the man who panned for gold,
found it slipping through his fingers.

but now i'm just some bare stripped bones, they've taken everything that made me myself, and i'm completely gone just a slow beating heart and a couple of bones, *******, and hollow-voiced lies.
And the worst part?
You don't even notice.

and im afraid
that im the reason
you don't believe in love

i think I want to go to sleep.
Drifting, Drifting,
Beautifly.
Softly.
Like nobody would even wake me again.
Like I would never wake again.
That's what I want.
I beg you.
Drift me to sleep, And never wake me.
Never.
To fly away, Slowly, Softly, Just bouncing on the waves of time
That's what I want.
I don't think they can feel anymore. I think they've come too far for that.
I guess I'll never know, because today, today is the day I drift myself off and never wake.
I like to think
that I might be remembered for something other than this.
That I might be remembered for my art.
Or the way I smiled at the birds.
But I know they won't remember.
They'll just say they're sorry.
They'll just say they wished they'd done something.
But that's a lie. I'd rather just drift away then believe that.
I pray to drift me away softly, Boucing on the riverbed.
I hope nobody ever finds me, I don't want to be found.
I want to be hidden away in the folds of the earth, to stay buried and blanketed by the world.
Without a distrupion in sight, I want to lay, covered by sound and time.
But I can't want anymore. And I won't want anymore.
It's time to do.
I think I want it to be beautiful.
I want to jump off a cliff, and for that one moment, to be suspended in time, freefalling but really not falling at all.
Soaring.  
Above it all, Above emotion and conciousness.
I just want to float in time, So they all forget about me.
So I can stay forever blanketed in the world's folds.
Just me, and whatever is on the other side.
Just promise you won't forget me.
Promise.

and as the weather turns sour each year
i find my body curling in on itself
like yesterday’s paper burning up
to fuel that sweet, sweet fire.
and i find my toes sticking through old knitted socks,
and i find myself kissing new faces.
oh, the sweet with the bitter,
the moths and the red wine of it all.
how i’ve come to embrace this deep, purple weather,
and all that it brings within.