The dandelions grow,
They blow with the wind.  

Spread across the thin grass,
With little green, and many grains of brown sand.

Later the seeds grow into more weeds.  If unattended they will ruin your deeds.

My Bella, My Bella

I've been through hell and back lately.  
I thought it'd be easy.
To leave,
I was deceived.

What more is there,
I glare and I glare.
Stare.
My eyes filled with flare.
Eye contact blind, inexistant.
Afraid of the consequences when
Its known it was all a lie.

The weeds spread.
As my negativity ascends,
The surface of my soul rots.
Impossibilities run through the mind.
Dreams of you and me,
Waking up,
Feelings furthest from relieved.
Heart hidden underneath my sleeves,
I've lost it.  
Abandoned, left to freeze.

Smiles grow painful.
Photographs record shameful agony. 

The liquid of your cheeks,
Unseen, unfelt.
Your happiness brings forth wander,
Yet it is not the place for thieves
To ponder of their lives refrained from stealing.

Your rose stolen,
Put in a vase filled with poison,
From red to white,
Pale in sight.
Expressions of sorrow despite
The sunlight,
Not a single lady bug would take
Flight and land even on its very might.
Who would blame it.  

The endless nights have
Turned into short term darkness,
For those who dream their
Nightmares while laying awake.

Only to see the blinding sunlight rise,
So close to their dialating pupils
And puffy cheek bones,
Enough to draw salt water from the sea.
Yet, it is
So far,
In the distance behind the mountains.
The sunlight once again escapes.

This life feels it will take
A lifetime to pass.

Decision making,
eyes shaking,
earth quaking,
life taking,
high staking,
things that we love.

Things that we love,
they're better when they're free,
some love expensive,
some love subjective
none love objective
limited,
their love,
intangible,
their love.

Their love, intangible.
How to get it,
who knows.

Who knows,
if we suppose that we all have a heart.
Does everyone feel the same beat?
Do we notice when we're frozen?
Is there a doctor to tell us we have trouble,

The Doctor is here,
"Paul Reever,
have you any fear?
They say you speak ill things
they see your need for belonging."

Da Vinci is here,
"I opened you up,
the human heart should be soft,
tender,
warm.
Your heart is hard,
cemented,
cold."

The Priest is here,
"Demented,
legion receiving
fiend with insides screamin'.
60% water,
a human is,
60% evil,
your being within."

Knock, knock,
my name is dark,

what a shame to claim the fame of pride
insane it drives
bee hives done with lives
sharp knives fill the night skies

flying down when it rains
ending your pain with a strange
bolt of lightning
worth the sight seeing
it's enticing
that all this writing
is enough to stop the fighting

my imagination,
if it were to come true,

perhaps a better ending would start befriending
the sense of purpose
so condescending lack of vending
when it comes to sending
red lips
dismissed

Love,
they say.
Humans get away.
Portrayed with materialism,
all of it is grim.

It follows me,
Every step that I go,
Never leaves me throughout the day,
Sometimes disappears at night,
But once I step under the light,
The evil side of me escapes my body
And hides beneath me,
My shadow.

The disappearance doesn't mean its gone,
It only escapes from me ,
Untamed.
In the absence of light
My shadow surrounds me,
Overwhelms me and causes my pupils to become narrow,
When my eyes magnify the darkness
Nothing can escape my sight.
The darkness is mine,
This time I follow my shadow.

When the light comes piercing through my window as the sun rises,
My shadow wakes up behind me as I stand.
My shadow is small,
My shadow goes through everything
I go through in the day.
As I fall apart from the dreadful experiences
Of the human life,
I am forced to become strong.
Yet my shadow is left untouched, unhurt, unaffected.

Yet, maybe that is needed in order to stick with me.
If it knew human emotion perhaps it would escape.
When I was with her,
She had a shadow too.
When I was with her,
My shadow was paired and it extended itself under the sun.
Now I'm not with her,
Perhaps my shadow feels the tearing away
Of what was once a part of it.

My shadow doesn't boil like i do under the sun,
At night,
My shadow forgets.

Shadow,
Can I be like you?
Lets switch places for a day.
Because in humanity,
Even sleep is not an escape from the nightmares.

Shadow

So close yet untouchable,
Feelable yet unseeable,
Real deceivable by the unbelievable ,
Eighth illitical nine times political
Belief of the synnical miracle that we call a principle,
A stronghold On the souls taken into a serial killer called death.

Also known as depression which is believed
To be demons Taking possession
only expelled by the reverant.
Things we are brainwashed to believe,
Religion at its finest
Kills with the letter like a sword.
Systematically condemning the world
In one accord.
Casting stones yet commit hidden sins.

My fellow humans,
Your flesh is inescaple and unbreakable,
Jesus came for his people yet they killed him.
And you **** his people with your religion.
Christians disagree with other christians,
So much division how can His army win.

I'm on a mission,
To fulfill my position after witnessin all
Hatred involved in environments means for peace.
The U.S. is supposed to be free,
Yet it us trapped with the multiple that
Bring back ******.
The hate of one alone is enough to ****
The Jews.
To destroy the blacks.
And get rid of the Mexicans.
The hate of one alone,
Wrecks families, and takes lives.
It even enslaves the whites,
A tragedy unheard of.

All of us feel hate and we know not what to do.
It fills the mind we grind our teeth,
The heart pumps fast to supply the heat.
Our face is warm our fingers tense,
Lips shake,
eyes wake,
We can't help but to make a mistake.

The stress resumes,
All we remember is our uncles death.
Sleep lacks deep,
All one does is drink,
In an attempt to bring peace to himself,
None of it works you realize they still
Aren't around,
At least we know,
They are sound asleep,
In heaven where we will one day meet.

To be in school is to have a duel of renewal,
of the things we have learned
whether we should burn the past or be stubborn and hang on
denying the new as if we had any clue
on how to make this stew of life brew
we grew and we grew
some have beards, some have *******,
but some of us stayed the same as the rest
our brains put to the test
we are still stuck in our nest
where we find comfort.

Im like a bald eagle ready to get its prey,
Like a pitbull off his leash ready to eat a maltese
The cure that frees us of the disease
And get you off your knees
The bee that protects his queen
By giving my life away in one sting
The genius who thinks
The elephant that drinks at the water hole
Surrounded by lions
The third king that roams the desert

Let us not pretend to be experts
because we tend to lose
on lifes greatest news
whether we know how to make the stew or not
let us not be fake and appreciate
the things that have brought us here to this day
your fate is not to educate your thought
because like fruit is comes to rot
I know because I sought and fought
to be like Isaac Newton
I've been wanting to make inventions
but in a different dimension
although this pressure and tension
is making me less than the great depression
I guess I haven't learned a lesson from all this oppression.

My math class,
is tougher than catching a 100 pound bass,
my muscle mass decreasing
just like my reasoning
I want to be logical like whats the meaning
of me thinking so much it's demeaning
like an old man singing while drinking
stinging to the minds eye it's way too bright
my sight has gone blind
I wish I could rewind
to 1859 when the world was different
and we were all able to be kind
that's just a guess my minds a mess
full of pests and stresses and guesses
with unimportant messages.
Relentless that's me,
An A is okay but no less than a B.
If I get a C im not trying and a D
man I got to stop being such a G.

This is all Bolognee I want to go *****
im getting lonely
but I am surrounded
my mind is quiet but outside it's violent I am astounded
I guess im well rounded
like the blue berry girl in ***** wonka
they call me wacka flocka of the new york times
I shine through my grind
just kidding im lying,
im lazy as can be because that's how school made me.