As I move around my room in the dark,
I hold my hands over my mouth.
I always do.
*So you won't hear me cry.

Wounds heal,
But the scar remains.
There is this mark that will remain reminding you of what happened.
The skin broke.
The blood flowed along with the tears.
The pain was felt.
Then it healed.
But there is still a mark showing what happened.
There is a small reminder of the pain
Inflicted.
The surface level scars
Physical pain is easy to cure.
No one talks about the emotional scars
The ones over your heart and your brain.
Invisible.
People dont know they are there.
Until that is they reach in and start to examine who you truly are.

Choices
Decisions
All need to be made
Constant necesity always having to choose.

Overwhelming
Too many
Make them stop.

Who will I be?
How will I act?
What will I do?
What do I wear?
How do people see me?

On and on and on and on they go.
Every day we choose to get up.
We choose to be productive.
We choose how we act.

Every thing you do is a choice.
There is no free floating.
We must conform to the choice driven society.
Standardized test
Standardized life.

Pick the correct bubble or be left behind.

Will you build me an off switch so I can?

 So I can surrender to the dark blissful peace that is sleep.
So I can take the bad things and make them stop.
Because its all too much.
Because even tho its admarable to be the one who thinks the way I do.
Its not a two way street. The people I give myself for dont reciprocate.
I run myself into the ground and still nothing gets better and I dont even get a thank you.
But I do it Anyways knowing full well that
my brain wanders into the bad part of the woods when I'm exhausted.
But I do it anyways.
So here I lay lost in my thoughts with no escape.

Standing at the top of the clock tower
with bells echoing through my chest
and wind ringing in my ears,
It feels as if the whole world is within reach.

**They have nets under all the bridges. How many bodies have they caught? So many abused by their own broken souls.

perhaps the way the dappled sunlight
floats above the ground,
like ephemeral ghosts silvery
of golden sonic booms,
rocketed into orbit, clear into
the farthest reaches of the universe
airships sleek and elegant,
the mighty richness exploding
into alien atmospheres,
of outlandish stories
and bizarre adventures,
with a silhouetted captains quarter
and the most courageous skipper,
perhaps with the last waning light
orange and stark yellow as it sinks
into another time-woven dimension,
entity can endure past the gates
wrought with fear of the great unknown