the church peaks over the trees the grass is long but a light  shade of green, The birds seek food then they fly away.
looking out there's not one cloud in the sky. The moon can be seen ever so wide I look up for answers of what to do with my life.
Written by DSMITH

The words collect
Slithering over my face
Making a mask to fall behind, to hide
Creating a wall of lies and secrets as my disguise.
Red. Black. Silver. Streamlines down my body
Embracing me into an unknown.
I'm throbbing faster. And quicker.
Words slip out of my mouth like ghosts.
Hands move and twist
Contort the darkness to come.
Holler. Yell, stamp. Scream.
Vision mists and motions rise.
Ghosts of the past!
Ghosts of the future!
Cover me with the truth.
I am not your friend.
Eat my words and rise.
I am your king.
I am the native ghost!

Everytime someone comes by
Staring, straight into my eyes
My lips curve up wandering into a smile, waiting
For them to utter that very first note
Like a key turned in the lock
Opening my heart and spilling out oceans of secrets and dark thoughts.
The skins of my eyeballs itch, reaching out to touch
The image of the rare human
Standing right in front of me.
Tiny claws from my body reach out to pop that bullet-proof bubble embracing me,
Igniting all my flames like a phoenix.
But no.
They walk away.
Like everyone else.
Leaving me in the bottomless pit of despair
Like the dark's comapny
Hiding me like a secret
That's to be forever kept.

A fire is burning
The foundations are breaking
The walls are falling
The smoke is asphyxiating
You are the building
My heart
The arsonist

Like a volcano ready to erupt
The pressure inside of me is starting to build
My jaw clenched shut
My trembled breath
The warning earthquake

You took advantage of my kindness
You handled me as though I were a dead rose
For now my thorns will have your back
But in time they will cut you deeper

Like lava cascades down the mountain
The tears you induced burn my flesh
For now I’ll let them, to keep us alive
But in time they’ll dry and you’ll be only a memory

And I, a newly formed landscape

The beauty of the heart

is the lasting beauty:

its lips give to drink

of the water of life.

Truly it is the water,

that which pours,

and the one who drinks.

All three become one when

your talisman is shattered.

That oneness you can't know

by reasoning.

You ever just sit in your quiet place and realize that it's not so quiet anymore?

Listening to the silence, it's so loud that it's almost deafening.

You ever realize that your "quiet place" just isn't the same anymore.

It's been tainted.

It use to be the place you go to find sanctuary.

The place you would go to find your peace but now not even that place is satisfactory anymore.

Feelings of sorrow and despair riddle your mind.

You've sunken into a place farther than the quiet place...

It's no longer safe there.

Alone in an ocean of thoughts you swim for dear life to find a new quiet place...

But all that's left is you watching yourself sink deeper and deeper...