when i was younger
i used to toss paper planes
into the air
now when i toss myself into the air
i see myself as a paper plane
once caged,now free.

We march.
Broken.
Devestated.
Deprived.
Unaware of our destination.

So as an act
Of bravery,
Of sadness or
Of fear.

But all we do,
Everywhere we go
We still need a purpose
We still need our motivation

To escape and live
To re start and re gain
To achieve and destroy
To become and to forget.

But till we find our destination,
We try to die,
We try to intoxicate
But lack to be remembered after death.

We march
For nothing
For the faded
For the shattered
For a forgotten cause

my hair falls onto my pillow
the night sky spilling
onto the blank canvas
i gaze at the plastic stars
the light dim from the dead stars
not as bright as the moon.

Not as bright as you.

i've been joyful for the past 4 months... i haven't even had one sad moment....
but all of a sudden i look back at how my family is torn apart, how i changed so much..
how much weight i gained.. how faded my scars are, and i kinda miss the way i fell....

I would never imagine that i could miss something that bad this much..

I'm afraid of many things..

The usual...
Spiders
Heights
The dark
Strangers
Clowns
Dying
Fire
Flying
And the list goes on...


But the thing i fear the most is that you see me the way i see myself..

She paces around the room
The fresh marks on her skin
Are crimson in the light
The needles of Time ***** her
Leaving bruises on her skin
She stares up at the ceiling
The whiskey glass half empty
The 'medicine' wasn't helping
She's broken,messed up,an outcast
But what you don't know
Is that annie is short for anxiety.

Brutality in symphony
As the blade slices skin
Like a violinists bow
Across the strings