What right do I have
To feel sorry for myself
What right do I have
To be sad over petty things
Like how I’m insecure
Lonely
Bored
Lost
Afraid
When there are people out there
Facing greater pain than any human being deserves
Suffering beyond belief
In inconceivable circumstances
So what right do I have
To cry tonight

Colors of the ocean marbled with fire
Blending like paint, like waves, like flames
Delicately adorned with glistening dewdrops
Clouds of white and grey crying softly
A dome of peace, life, humanity
A cage shielding us from the world which lies beyond
Undiscovered
Unlikely
Unknown

Fingernails tapping
Teeth biting my cheeks
A pressure on my chest
Eyes darting around the room
I should probably breathe

At this point I can’t quite remember
The last time my mind was at ease.

They told me to pick up the knife
That with it I’d be able to cut the rope holding my throat to the ceiling
And break the chains keeping me to the ground
So I wrapped my fingers around the cold metal
Adrenaline as hot as fire pulsing in my veins
I didn’t let go
And I didn’t free myself
Instead I brought the silver blade to my heart
Carving the words I wanted to be engrained in me forever

They told me to pick up the knife
That with it I’d be able to break the chains keeping me to the ground
And cut the rope holding my throat to the ceiling
So I wrapped my fingers around the cold metal
Only to feel a sharp sting as hot fire poured from my palm onto the concrete floor
But I didn’t let go
Even though I had grabbed hold
Ever so tightly
Of the wrong end

It’s strange
That even surrounded by the
Laughs and smiles of everyone you love
You can still feel terribly
Sad
And numb
For no apparent reason

like an acorn,
drifting down to a bed of emerald grass,
amidst a sea of crisp autumn leaves,
swirling like the color of flames,
crimson vermilion sunshine
scraping the dirt below.
but instead a breeze cuts off my course
and I come crashing down
onto concrete cold as ice,
only to crack
and eventually shatter.

You once had a blossoming rosebush.
Lush with periwinkle peonies, baby blue baby's-breath, crimson carnations.
You plucked a flower for me, a rose so beautifully breathtaking which you compared to my own flawed features in the most poetic prose.
I graciously accepted your gorgeous gift, careful that my fingers wouldn't graze the thorns which adorned the deep green stem.
I held it close, embracing your token of affection with a pounding heart full of humbly hesitant adoration.
But I picked apart the pieces, I skeptically played with the pretty petals. I analyzed their cajoling strokes of coaxing color until the flower wilted warily.
And when I asked you for another, your face flushed and your truth trembled.
You led me to your rosebush, which was now an utterly dull disappointment.
For I saw then that you had wasted away all of the flowers on girls just like me, destroying the beauty which had once flourished in that tempting rosebush, and now you had no more love to give me.

my dearest
apologies
that the recent poems plaguing my page
are nearly as much of a disappointment
as myself
**

Your presence is awfully comforting
Yet you leave me with shivers
tickling my spine
And goosebumps
prickling my skin.
You feel so near, right next to me,
But when I reach out
You disappear.

Your figure is just a silhouette,
maybe blue, brown, perhaps green or even grey,
could the eyes be that captivate me from miles away.
You still seem so close.

I'm full of emotions that make no sense, not even on a blank page
Full of ink splotches
and salty blue blotches.
When I wish to tell you how I feel, I mumble
Until all at once my jumbled words fumble
and fall into a pile at your feet.
Which you blankly stare at, before walking away.

You'd think there would be a number of how many times a heart could shatter
over petty things
Before it would learn to hold itself together longer,
to be stronger,
or at least you'd think that it wouldn't hurt as much when it falls apart again.

I thought people said that love could make you feel alive.
But being in love has only been an ocean full of waves which have crashed over me far too many times,
Until all my color has faded,
Washing away the childhood spark that once gleamed in my eyes.
Until all that's left is a shell of the girl I used to be,
A smile still drawn
on my blue lips
that were still waiting for your ghostly kiss.

But nobody sees my efforts, you don't hear my cries
that I muffle with "it's okay" and other shallow lies.
I know you ignore me
when you say you adore me
And I know I implore you,
when it's my bad I fell for you.
I'll continue to pontificate
on a dreadfully pathetic page
until I surely suffocate
in the mound of poems I create
which are riddled with your name.

But it's my fault.
For I fell in love with a ghost. Like I always do.
And he left me behind, like they always seem to.

My hand trembles with the weight of the quill pressed between my fingers,
Each stroke an ever so remarkable miracle.
For my strength falls weak as I strive to write even more.
Though the ink has long since dried up, and all I am left with are scratches on a blank page.
Perhaps the fault does not lie within the weary pen itself,
But instead with the unstable hand that holds it.

I know it's childish
To imagine that you could possibly
Even like me
But the little girl inside me
Can't help but desperately cling
To the possibility
Even if it hurts so very badly
Even though each time I inhale I hope to breathe air
While instead poison caresses my lungs
With a touch as sharp as knives
I still breathe in
My heart begging for the chance that one day it won't hurt
To dream
And I know I'm childish
Yet I can't seem to give up
On you

If I lie to myself,
Perhaps everyone else will believe it
Too

Lately I thought
The more I forced
A tug on my lips,
A glint in my eyes,
A light in my face
Like the flicker of flames
As they dance in the fire,
The easier it would be,
The more natural it would feel,
And maybe even some day
My mind would recall
How it felt to smile
And I would be able to
Do it for real.

Autumn light spills over the land, the golden sunshine barely peeking over the snow-topped mountains.
A soft breeze sweeps under the orange leaves, urging them into flight as they then drift swiftly into the distance.
A warm hue shines on the blades of grass, reflecting a clear image onto the still, glass pond.
Trees sway hesitantly, casting crooked shadows on the weaving path.
As the last traces of the day dissipate, the planet slipping into a restless slumber, a cool silver mist filters out any last color.
A blurry world stares back at me, chilling wind grabbing hold of my ankles like ice-cold fingers against my bones.
Threatening to pull me down, force clean air into my lungs, pressing on my chest until I have no choice but to inhale, breathing in the crisp fog with sputtering coughs.
Shivers prickle my skin, dancing up my spine and down my arms.
My vision shakes as tears well up in my eyes.
I let my gaze fall one last time on everything around me, taking in the beauty of nature before the light will vanish completely.
A dark world is gut-wrenching when all the lovely things that make Earth precious are clouded by shades of black.
Why open your eyes at night when it will be just the same as what you see when you close them.

The scene fades out of view as I’m forced out of my fond memories at the sound of crying.
The red leaves on the trees, covering the grass, and even swirling in the air shift suddenly into blinding flames, swallowing any lush vision from before.
The evening mist transforms into smoke, sirens and screams wailing in my ears, ricocheting in my mind.
Any calm feeling that had come from my daze snaps out of existence, so quickly it is almost as if it was never even there, as I turn to see the real world burning and falling apart around me.

How can I let go of a piece of me
How can I move on from something I’ll miss

Even though the butterflies have withered away
Even though their wings fluttered so hard they crumbled
Dead and decayed
Hollow shells of the love they used to hold
Never to fly again

You’re the only thing left in my heart
And I’m not sure I’ll be able to survive
Without you

Am I in love with you
Or am I in love with the idea of you
The thought that we’ll live our life together
Forever
Day by day with just each other
Growing up
And growing old
With only each other to hold
Creating a family
A home
A life
My heart yearns for such a life
But I’ve fallen in love
With the idea of you
Of you and I
And I’m not even sure if I know you
Anymore

Your eyes... I promise, they're the key to my soul. They resemble the sky. A cloudy mist of blue and grey. Twisting and twirling, swallowing my gaze.

Your eyes were my reason to live.

Your eyes were my reason to keep my own eyes from closing forever.

Your eyes willed me to hold on. Until I truly wanted to stay.

Your eyes guided me through my life.

Your eyes were full of beauty, glory, love. They were full of a wonderful sky. One that I got lost in. Forever. And even after those eyes closed for the last time, I was still trapped. Caught in that broken sky.