Running through the dark,
like you’re not scared of losing your heart.
I watch as you embark,
set the sails to the wind and change this ***** part.

What deathly horrors attracts these thousands upon thousands of crows,
When they came there was something in the air that froze.
They veil the sky, drown out all noise, cutting through the vacancy of empty leafless trees,
Never do they fail to arrive, or come quietly one by one,
They come out of nowhere, but to tell the whole city there is no sun.
As they cross under clouds, the ****** increases, seemingly never ending like the dark skies that precede them.
All of Bothell seems to joke with its ever dark skies and black bird cries.

Why couldn’t I find home in you?
These parts of you I will never get back,
All the colors that rush through your head and eyes,
Your distinct and special parts that make you enough.
I wish my passion and desire for meaning weren’t so rough.
I feel like just
                          closing my eyes,
                                                    pluggin­g my ears,
                                                           ­                  covering my mouth.

I would rather shut out the reality of the pain you and I have been through,
and experience my heart of dreams

                                                          and places I’ll never go to again,

my home I may never find.

I hate that I couldn’t let you in?
I hate that I felt lost with you?
I hate that my mind won’t agree with my heart.

You are an artist and you create the most beautiful expressions,
You’re quite brilliant,
You light up the whole world with your honest kindness,

At times I know I didn’t deserve these godly reflections.
So WHY did you feel I was the right one?
WHY have you only captured my heart when I don’t have you within arms reach,
I know it’s Because My Mind is let loose and it finds ideals to grab onto and leach.

I have been everywhere,
…felt so so many things.
I feel so alone in my mental strain,
My fight with this special kind of empty pain,
but the thing that hurts worst is the realization that I may not be as alone or unique as I once thought.
I may have learned of the meaning and vastness behind my cavernous thoughts but that doesn’t mean that this world isn’t a lonely war I’ve fought.
Maybe it will hurt less the more I talk to the ones that share this world.
Maybe I will find out how important this lost place is.
Maybe they will someday understand me, this wonderland,
Because I know no one else feels how my dream of home has been perfectly pearled.

Some things hurt with such intensity, and I don’t know why,

Sounds, smells, scenes.

It’s like I’ve been here before and experienced the most significant emotional event or worse, that it reminds me of a place I’ll never be again.

I can’t understand why they tug at my heart like they do, but I have to hold on to the pain, the sentiment; I can’t waste the emotion, I need to save it and use it, hold it and fuse it,
With some other part of my life.
Whether I intentionally make memories to fill a void made by one of these unknown bursts of feeling,
Or plan my future to head towards them and fulfill them...

I must do something,
To free myself from the thought,
That they may be nothing,
That my mind may be meaningless,
Even if it’s true,
I’d rather deceive myself,
And make it out of something that I drew.

Nothing can stop my mind’s emotion,
So I’ll just give it fuel to soak in.
I need a place to put them,
And burn until I’m deep in REM.
Dreams let my creativity thrive,
Because my waking self can’t give them all life.
I hold things you could never imagine,
Endless dreamscapes of comfort and strife.
Someday it will feel right,
The worst things that pain me will be greater in reality,
Someday it will all be in sight,
After years I will create more than I imagined in my ability.

At the pinnacles of right and wrong, where life is changed and paths are drawn,
When your thoughts are surrounded by the hardness of stone,
And intertwined with small traces of gold,
Don’t lay on the rock and feel the cold,
Burn away all that traps and treasure the gold.
Those small shining pieces are what holds the truth,
The solid fixtures of wisdom and proof,
The only part that may bring you through,
In the darkness and chaos of all the paths you drew.

You made me feel like I had to earn your love.
Like I didn’t deserve your attention
Your age played a factor in my worth or my voice.
But I couldn’t go to you for advice.
I wish I could go back a little to face some of these truths,
With the freshness of memories I no longer have.