When a girl dreams of a boy

she doesn't start to blush,
there is no distinct sparkle in her eye
but her heart flutters and skips a beat
like a dainty butterfly

her lips softly quiver
for she knows not what to say
her legs lightly bounce about
control has gone astray

his charm captivates her
his warm eyes melt her heart
his voice, mesmerizing
tears her fears apart

her mind can only wonder,
is there anything more
does a secret lurk, behind some hidden door

her doubts are cast aside
her words she can't quite form
regained her peace of mind
but her love was always worn

as you know, a mere dream cannot really
describe this sensation
for she has loved him, since his very creation

When I look into your eyes, a wave of serenity washes out stained memories.
Warmth ripples through tough outer exteriors, calloused and cracked.
As natural as the light of day and dark of night.
Plain and simple as black and white.
Speaking gently as a cooling summer breeze.
Shielding the harsh, brutal winter freeze.
Flowing softly as a clear mountain creek.
Changing leaves, mighty yet meek.
Puts me to sleep, like the setting sun.
And when I awake, my subtle dream is done...

How is it now, that good looks get you everywhere in life?
How is it that 'talent' is simply throw it together or use auto tune?
What happened to hard work pays off?
What happened to the little things?
Why does race, size, gender, and all of that matter?
Why can't we just accept each other?
Who decides all of this?
Who's to say all opinions can't be valued?
When will I be able to say something like, most of the people here on HP are far more talented and real than any celebrity?
When will I not be chastised for saying such a thing?
Probably not in my lifetime...

Words cannot extinguish this flame
Fueled by pain; raw, untamed

Just because I'm introverted doesn't mean I'm shy
Doesn't mean I have no feelings or I never cry
Just because I'm introverted doesn't mean I'm scared
Doesn't mean I'm hateful or socially impaired
Just because I'm introverted doesn't say I'm weak
Maybe I don't feel the need to continuously speak
Just because I'm introverted doesn't make me weird
Doesn't mean that I am judged, misunderstood, or feared
Just because I'm introverted doesn't mean I have no life
Doesn't mean that I couldn't be a great friend or loving wife.

Sweaty palms, broken dreams.
Those piercing sounds imprinted as screams.
Crusted blood hides under, dirt stricken nails.
Drags along where deep darkness lurks and prevails.
Breaths growing deeper, stumbling around.
Have to keep going, don't want to be found.
Hung on branches, bushes, and sand.
Trudging among the treacherous land.
Pull out a shovel, removing the earth.
Deeper and further, whatever it's worth.
Grabbing the cold, stiff, rubber-like hands.
Whispering I'm sorry, no reprimands.
Pick up the shovel, returning the ground.
Turns away, leaving his bride safe and sound.

Why does it matter, whatever your size?
The amount of space between your thighs.

The width of your waist, the size of your shirt.
That doesn't measure what you're worth.

The buttons on your pants, the flat, toned abs.
That's one thing I sure don't have.


All of those "models" are starving and thin.
Do people even make the sizes they fit in?

Seeing every bone isn't healthy or right.
Society has done this, warped our sight.

The size of your bra, whether A or D.
Should not be the first thing we judge and see.

But unfortunately, all that I say isn't true.
The world judges the outside of both me and you.