Every creature is beautiful in its own way.
Like a beautiful rose or a daisy.
Both are beautiful, but in different way.
Therefor its just nonsense if we have one type who is marked as beautiful
You are beautiful in your own way.

Im looking in the mirror.
An unknown person stare back at me.
She looks sad.
Nobody says she is pretty.
They all judge, but no one will listen and understand.
She is not good enough.
Not skinny enough, so she starves her self.
Not pretty enough so she drown her face in makeup till her face looks like a mask.
It's not good enough to be herself.
So she looks in the mirror, and see the tears come. But she keeps it on the inside.

Because she has at least to pretend to be happy enough.

What if we some of us, is just souls too help the human we get too know in this life.

I know its a crazy idea, but who knows everything about this life.

Noises all around.
Spinning round, and round.
An endless circle with only sound.
People around me use their mouth, not to speak for a purpose.
No. They talk, move their mouths constantly. Why?
Only to make noise, chaos, and sound.
Im sitting in the birdcage. Noises all around.

My thoughts are somewhere else. But the noises are following me around.
Leave me alone! Can't I just block it all out?
Get away from the noise, all the sound. All the people who make me this miserable....
No. Im still sitting here. Trapped in the birdcage, with noises all around.

My family is ripped apart, and Im standing in the middle.
They drag me in the one direction and then the other.
I think this will break me apart.
Their words hurts like knives, screaming out their hatred.

What Im supposed to do?
Anything I say, is like stepping on a minefield.
I try to shut it all out, but the screaming, the dragging, the hatred is too loud.

My soul is hurting.
I want to scream and cry, but nothing comes out.
Im just here.
In the middle of it all.
Trying to hold my self together, because it's the only thing I can do.
Just hoping.
That one day.
This war will end.

Everyday she takes on the mask.

She pretend to be something, just so she can fit in.

When she comes home, she takes of the mask in the mirror, and keep question herself about who she is.

If we weren't so judgemental we would have get too know so many souls, you cant even know.

Today I learned something maybe not everyone know.

As always I sat by myself, in the middle of the classroom, in the center of sounds.
Voices keep hitting me in the head all the time, but the meaning of the speaking sounds was nothing more than nonsense.

A group of ******'s sat in the corner, so popular they could shine. I sat with them, too observe how the populars acts.

When I was in this bird cage, I didn't understand why people would hang with people like these. All they said made no sense. It was like some children talking.

I now know that I prefer too hang with smart losers than dumb popular folks.

He keep his mouth shut.
You think he is unsocial or just a loner.
He looks boring, but he sees and hears everything.
Maybe he don't speak, but that doesn't mean he dont sees and hear.

He see more deeply than others. How the object is in colours, what sound it makes, what vibrations and feeling it gives out.
While all you see is a "thing".

He sit all by himself, and write what he observe.
No one walks over to say "hi", nobody notice if he is sick.
He is just "there".

One day a guy steals his notebook.
And he reads from it out loud infront of the whole class.
The quiet guy seem calm, he sits quiet as usual.

In the notebook, it's the reason to be. It's the anwer of our existence, it is all the colours and music in descriptions.

It is so beautiful that the whole class get touched.

The next day, the quiet guy isn't their. He is in their hearts.

My soul is trapped.
I don''t get out.
I have tried too scream, but I have no voice.
I will be crazy soon.

My soul is trapped behind the shadow of freedom.
Im thinking "Just a little more, just a little more time".
I can't take it anymore, all the voices in my head gets too loud and I burst into tears.

In the darkest room, farest away, is a girls soul, it screams and hitting the walls, but no one can hear her.

The question is, what will happened when she release?

You may think Im perfect. Thats far away from the truth.
All those nights you thought I was hanging with friends or was at a party.
When the reality was I was alone in my bedroom.
In the corner. By myself. All alone.
So lonley it could be.
Tears was running down my chin, it was black spots all over my pillow.
My pillow looked like a spotted art. But my heart was crushed in pieces.
My eyes, was almost closed. I felt the pain, as I were holding down my scream.
My scream, who could relase all these emotians.
Im not perfect. Im just very good at acting.

How the hell can you say that you know me, or how I feel.

Last time I checked you weren't me, you haven't got through all the walls I have burst down.

So don't come here to me and say that you know how I am.

I look on a screen, day and night.
My phone lights up the morning instead of the sun.
The screen shows me how the world want me to be, act, think and so on.
It's rules I have to obey by the screenworld, by the screenpeople.
The people who everyone knows, the people who make and obey the rules.
My phone is my guide to be liked, and to have the best life.

But is it really?
I get so connected, that I feel unconnected to the people around me.
I don't hear what my friends are saying because Im trapped in a screenworld where the screenpeople are more important.

I don't know what I should like, think, say or behave anymore without the rules.
Who am I? Who am I, I ask to myself repeatedly. And then I go to find the answer in the screenworld.

Where Im already stuck in the thousands rules we have to follow.
You should act like this, talk like this, mean this, look like this.
At which point did I get to be a slave for a screen.
For a simple screen. How could this little thing control my life, and myself.

So now, I have taken a chance. I log off. For good.

Some have guns, some have beauty and someone have a voice.

Im gonna use my brain next time we take up our weapon

Fake a smile, fake a feeling.
Pretend that this is over now.
Staying strong, like a soldier, with a convincing smile.
You know it's not real, you know you want to give up.
But you will not lose hope on yourself.

You keep reminding yourself that all the bad stuff, happened for a reason.
So you keep going, into the life again with a bright, fake smile on your face.

If you smile hard enough maybe one day you will believe its true.

When you are with people, but at the same time on the outside
When they talk like you are not there, still you are sitting infront of them.
When you try to talk, but everyone ignores you.
Im an outcast. I know Im isolated in my own mind.

It doesn't help that people keep me on the outside anyway...

One day I will show through the light. You will notice me, and I will be heard.
Maybe it's not today or tommorow. But the day will come.

And when the day arrives, you will be blown away by my thoughts and meanings. And wish you heard the first time I tried to share it.

I don't mean im better than anyone, but I don't mean that everyone is better than me... Im just different.

She had a quiet mind.
She listened more than words come out of her.
She did not only listen, she analysed everything.
How your mouth was in movement, how you eyes looked, how your tone in the voice changed.
It was not only words you gave her, you gave her a picture.
And a picture is more than thousand words.
She had a quiet mind. But her eyes was busy.

Looking on everything, the vibrations, colours, heat, everything.
She was always quiet.
But now that she is gone, everyone is quiet for her.

Thinking more before their actions.

She is trying to hide it.
Every laugh she makes, every smile she give is just a show.
Behind the curtains, she is sad.
She have to hide it, if not people will think that she's weak.
So she hold on too the pain, and keep going.
Every step is like stepping on crushed glass.
It hurts, but she has to hide it.

So white, so pure,so cold.
Im beginning to feel old.
The year goes bye, is what I been told.
Every year the same old snow.
Flying from the skies, in those little pieces.
Cold as a winter morning, it falls down on your hands, your head, your nose.
Snow.
It will come snow every year as I have been told.
I wonder if the snow is going to come even if Im old...

This is not a poem.
This is my stories, I tell through my voice, my written words who scream out loud.

How it is to bee lonely, ignored, pressured and not at least a teenager. Im sorry if I have used this microphone (page) wrong.

Because my words are not considered as poems who rhymes, or have a deep meaning.

But they rhyme with my heartbeat, these are the "deep" thoughts I have about life. So I have to scream they down on paper, use my voice. So my brain does'nt have a mess.
So. This is not a poem.
These written words on my page, are my story.

When I dance, I will dedicate the dance to yo, because you are the only thing on my mind.
When I sleep, I hope that you will appear in a dream and rescue me from the evil, cold hearted world.
When I wake up, I hope that you know that you were the last thing I thought of before I got to bed last night.
When I see you, Its like sparks between our distance.
And when you speak its like a soft melody, that I always will be replaying in my mind.

So I hope you know how much you mean to me.

That girl who sits silent all alone in the classroom.
That girl who holds up the door for whoever it should be.
That girl who speaks rarely, but when she does her words are poetry and melodies.
That girl who always wear black nail-polish and draws in her notebook.
That girl who smiles at you in the hallway.
That girl who pukes at the girl-restroom.
That girl who have to take care of her sister when her mom are laying drunk as always on the couch.
That girl who cries herself to sleep after watching herself in the mirror.
That girl who gets beaten up by the lockers just because she is a "freak".
That girl who came to school with a black-eye, but kept her mouth shut.
That girl exist.
That girl is maybe in your life.
Do you see her now?

The sky is darker, the leaves are different.
I can smell it in the air, that its changing on the way.
Nice hoodies, and warm cacao while I stare outside at the mystic in the air.
Its sad how all the leaves, that we have seen are just gonna leave.
Without a goodbye or so, they just slip away or fingertips.
Down too the ground and wait until the snow coming from the highest heaven.

She is trapped inside her own shell.
Want's to come out, but it feels impossible.
Why does it have to be like this, its not fair.
All the other people has cracked their shells, and now living their life.

So why cant she?

Maybe she is too afraid, to she how the real reality is really like.
She has only listen till the rumours about how these and that is.
Is it true or false?
Well she has to come out of her own little cocoon to find out, doesnt she?

She takes a deep breath, and block all the rumours out.
From now on, she is only gonna trust on her own judgement, and no one else.
And then, she burst out of the shell and...
Finally open her eyes wide open till the holy truth.

You say Im lonely by choice.
But do you know, that Im trying my best to just get up everday?
You say Im boring and stuck up.
The truth is that my mind is a constant noise and my thouughts are killing me.

You see me alone all the time, and maybe think I don't have any friends.
But how could I, when I never say the right thing?
You never bother to say hello, not that I do it either...

So do you really know the shy girl who hides in the back of the classroom.

A guy stare out in to the open sky.
Back at him shines the statrs and a whole galaxy.
He wonder.
Thoughts that he thinks are weird.
Why am I here?
What is my purpose?
Cant the universe just give me a sign?
Im lost between what my parents think I should do and what I think I want my purpose to be.
So what?
Help me.
A desperate silent scream about help goes out deep in outer space.

But no answer.

My soul keeps wandering these empty halls.
It's lost and have no meaning no path.
Wandering like a ghost haunting me about my past.
My shadow who keep letting these thoughts coming in to my mind.
My mind fille dup with chaos and nonsense.

The words I make up in my head is like knives in my soul
And when I let them go to me, my herat is puring out
My eyes start pushing sadness trhough my eyes.
My pillow gets mascara marks from my pain.
And outside of these walls everone thinks Im fine.

My body is a cage.
My spirit is a bird.
I want to come out, but my mind is stopping me.
Everytime I get close to unlock the cage, I loose the key...
ANd I have to start over one more time.... in the dark.

When everybody loose hope on you,
you are confronted
with the person you look in the mirror.
You have no other choice
than believe in yourself
and prove the others wrong.
You shall climb at the top of the mountain,
and look down on every achievements.

The one day, we can be anybody.
Look scary, ugly  and terrifying.
The true monster isn't the costume.
Its the soul and person behind.
After the halloween night, we undress and clean off makeup.
Then we are confronted with the real monster.

Finally, the day has come.
It feels as my soul has been trapped in over a decade, in this cage.
And now, finally Im free.
My body is lifted out of the prison I before called home.
I can finally look up at the moon and feel the sun behind the moon shining through, just to hit my face with warmth.
I feel so happy. Im not in the shadows, Im in the light.
The dark is gone. Forever I so hope.

And A new me is starting to wake up in this old body.
My eyes light up like sparkles, I never knew they would have in a so long time.

I feel my heart chiver as I look upon your smile.
Thanks for upon up my cage, and my heart.
To finally find me and my smile again.

I look in the mirror everyday.
I beginning to forget how Im suppose to look.
Is this really me?
Im I different than yesterday?
I look deeply in my confused eyes.
They glance back at me, I see my soul staring back.
And I think to myself, that everybody else know who they are.
But not me. Im a lost case, a person who don't know what it dislike and likes.
Im just an empty soul, flying in a silent wind past your window.

Everywhere I turn, another face, another judgemental thought.
Everytime I look at myself, I dont regonice my face, it could be anyone.
Because everyone expect something from me, that in the end, I dot know what I exepct of my self.
Thoughts like Who am I are very common too me.
My mirror show me a strange person, an empty soul with a confused heart.

When everything is a mess
And it is all kind of a fuss
I want to just be blank
Out of thoughts
Out of my mind

Im trapped inside myself
So much to do
All the time
You have to do this
You have to do that

My soul is not in peace
It is always in war with myself
Im I good enough?
No of course not
Because it is still a thousands things
to do
before my life is "perfect"

But how many things do I have to do
Just to be happy?

On my school, Im the shy, invisible girl.
My friends are gone and lost. At- least at this school.
Girls in my class is like another species, if you compared them to me.
The bell rings, and the hell begins again.
Where all the students pair up together.

Except me.
Im in the corner.
By my side, is only a shadow, and that's my shadow.
Girls in my class are so see-through. They show everything and share everything. Rumours, secrets you name it.
They didn't even know my name last year.
I keep myself as a mystery. Maybe that's a bad thing, but I like it that way. It so boring when you know everything and all.
It is like a see-through purse. You see everything a person have.
Im more the dark purse, where you wonder what's inside.
Im not one of the see-through people.

Your voice is like music in my ears, like a condition too my soul.
Your eyes shine like diamonds, or stars in the sky.
Your hair shine bright like the sun.
Your skin is pale as milk and snow.
Your touch is electrifying, and it moves my heart.
Your perfume smells like a thousand roses
Your smile are white and bright as a happy little kid
You are my everything
And yet you don't see me
Because Im just me.

In a crowded place, I feel so alone.
On the street, I try too not look at the faces that keep haunting me. Its not the people Im afraid of its that their judgemental.
And when I get that feeling, I fall to the ground, and rip my hair.
I want too scream too make it stop. And everybody else calling it stupid.
Leave me alone, hold your stupid little thoughts for yourself.
Because I have my own fight to fight.

If you could choose to look down on the rain or up at the sun, at the same day. What would you choose?

Probably the sun. Or maybe the rain.
It all depends on how you are looking on things.
In a negative or positive way.

With positive thinking, you may bring positivity in your life.
Why not try it?

It is a girl, sad and afraid.
She screams as high she can, but no one can hear.
She is trapped , no one will listen.
She want it too end, she want to have a choice.
The problem is, she have no voice.
So no one will hear her pain.
At least never again.

Finally, the day has come.
It feels as my soul has been trapped in over a decade, in this cage.
And now, finally Im free.
My body is lifted out of the prison I before called home.
I can finally look up at the moon and feel the sun behind the moon shining through, just to hit my face with warmth.
I feel so happy. Im not in the shadows, Im in the light.
The dark is gone. Forever I so hope.

And A new me is starting to wake up in this old body.
My eyes light up like sparkles, I neve rknew they would have in a so long time.

I feel my heart chiver as I look upon your smile.
Thanks for upon up my cage, and my heart.
To finally find me and my smile again.

The people on my age is so different, than me. Or at least I feel like that´s the case.
While they talk on and on about boys, parties, make-up and all that teenage-stuff. Im over here like tinking about "what is the meaning of this life?", "when I die, will I get to live again?",  "How do emotiens work?",  "why do people act like they do?" and questions like these.
Im beginning to think Im an alien. Stranded on the weird planet called "Earth".

My "people" are not supposed to think about these certain stuff. They should worry about how the mirror looks at them or how the flame in their eyes catches a boy at a party.

So why Im I like this?
Like an alien?
Overthinking about every detail....

My soul is a mystery.
I don't recognise what I am, what I do.
Does somebody control me?
Why can't I just act as I want, and do what I want?
Why do I have these handcuffs on my hands, tight.
I want to free as a bird, fly across the world. With control ove rmy own soul.
But my anxiety, the fear. It takes control.
And I live in my bubble. With someone else in control over my soul.

Sometimes she wants to scream to the world that she loves you.
Sometimes she wants to just run and hug you, without a reason.

Sometimes she wishes she was yours.
Sometimes she wants to talk to you about all and nothing.
You don't know she is into you, and you are probably not into her.
But the strong feeling of love, is there, even if you wish it didn't exist.

Everyday it's a Circus
Everyday is fulled with new chances
Everyday I can choose, how it will end
Everyday I feel its the same, but everyday is a new day
So Im gonna make the most of it from now off.

Your name is the last thing i think of at night.

Your name is the first thing on my lips in the morning.

I wish you could be mine, just one last time.

They say Im lost in dreamworld.
I would say they are too busy too think big.
I have dreams, you have the reality.
I would not trade it.
I will dream and then pursue them.
So you can laugh now but,
you will see one day that Im not that crazy....