This is to the person
Who lives the way I do...
Whose life is a distortion
Created by the veil
That covers our minds from the truth
That living like this is hell:
The moments you overreact,
You cry and have panic attacks
The moments that you’re in your bed
When demons inhabit your head
When you push away those that you love
Because being yourself is too much
This is to those with this
Distortion,
Distortion that lives in your brain,
Beneath every single headache and then cracked between the pain.

You stare at your own work until you hate it,
Sit for so long you forget why you waited
Hold your tongue instead of speaking your mind
Longing to move forward, but remaining behind.

Music, in the ear of a teen who needs it.
Alone,
The stars above.
They sit there, like the many emo teens who've done the same for many years before them,
Full of emotions and confusion.
A feeling of freedom for once,
Wind streaming through invisible wings,
Flight to the skies and beyond.
When before,
There was just fear and hopelessness.
The cool air cleansing,
Calming,
Unlike any consolation could.
A self-directed riddance of negative thoughts
Through self-reflection,
And the gathering of positive energy.

Sensitivity is negative
Or at least that’s what they say
Sadness, anger, love
Must be hidden away

Buried deep between the lines
Emotions must stay
For the world is not ready
Leave your feelings at bay

By the earth and it's wonderful, wide and unique expanse
A mother to what is living on it and inside of it, may it be small
or great in their posture given to them.
Indeed this place inhabits many creatures, faces and races.
Each striving for their own path, of staying alive.
The soft soil of the Earth, a comfortable living and breathing
ground to walk on, proud and all connected, only to be divided
By the sea which covers most of this planet, comparable to a blanket
From which we gain food and drink, in a clear registered cycle.
Of course this place too holds it's dangers, such as a quake could
end it all in a brutal roughless manner and tear it from the ground
we build our houses on.
Or be it an eruption which casts a rain of ash and embers, suffocating
the sky above, the ceiling which was meant to protect is our very end.
A mighty wave, which sweeps over the cities, drowning them in
it's lethal, cold and brutal, moist and salty embrace.
It is not healthy to be in such a negative spectra of thinking however
For this place holds, more transient, living, artistic beauty than I
could simply express or convey in words.

~ Umi