i cant breathe, i cant think
i cant skate, because the rink
its too warm
melting ice
my one solace
my one vice
i cant freeze
freeze my brain
lose myself in the music
get lost in the pain
the sting of the cold
my movements bold
i cant sing
i cant swing
move my body
i cant move
i cant think

red is for love, its filled with hate
orange is anxiety, an unoptimistic trait
yellow is decaying, rotting quickly
green is selfish and sickly
blue is not only sad, but melancholy
purple is the deep bruising, form your unfortunate folly
white is the cabinet, stained red with hate
brown is the decay that yellow can make
black and blue is her face from his selfishness
purple she turned, when she lost to the sickness.

For every one of your tragedies
I will write happy endings

For every one of your bad days
I will help make good ones

For every one of your break downs
I will be there to pick you up

For every skipped meal
I will treat you to comfort

For every forgotten memory
I will make new ones with you

For every forgotten line
A daisy for the courage to try

For every tear shed
A smile shared

For every scar
A star

You are gold
And I, yellow.

i think about you all the time
you always manage to cross my mind
in the dark
at school
with my mom
with bee
i see you everywhere
i am always reminded
you did not love me
you didnt really get to know me
and i know you will never see this
i know you wouldnt care
you thinking of me every now and then
is not reward
but entirely painful.

I want to believe in steady things,
but even my own reflection changes
when I look too long.
Are you here?
Do you love me?
Will you stay?
I ask without asking,
watching for the answer
in the way your hands move,
the way your breath hesitates before a word.

I know I feel too much,
ask too much,
but the silence between us is louder
than anything I could say.
So I fill it.
With words, with fear, with love—
all spilling over,
all too much,
all at once.

And still, I wonder, if it’s enough.

a yellow summer is coming
yellow tipped sun kissed clouds
drift just above a pasture of yellow waving flowers
summer is coming, you can smell it
in the warm air, still misty with rain
rain that dampened silky yellow strands of hair
and a gentle breeze gives hope
that maybe it will offer relief from the sticky yellow sun
a yellow summer is coming