my hands lay on the keyboard.
so many things going through my head,
but I can't move my hands,
nor can I talk, or do anything.
I stare down.
I want,
I need that familiar clacking of the keyboard
to fill the air like oxygen in my lungs.
Where are you, my oxygen?
My thoughts?
Anything at all?
I sigh.
I look around, trying to find something to do.
To occupy myself,
to distract myself with something else than having
to live with this nagging feeling that I can't write anything.
That I can't think anything.
That I can't fill a page up with the words that are on my mind.
That I can't describe the pain I'm feeling.
That nagging feeling that closes in on me like a tight box.
I fall.

I've always wondered why they called it a "crush",
and now I think I know why.
I've admired you from afar,
knowing that if I told you my feelings,
it would ruin my life forever
because I was afraid of saying it to your face.
Sometimes we would catch each others eyes for a few seconds and then look back to the homework we were doing.
But I knew it wasn't going to happen.
Ever.
Not like you had a girlfriend or anything,
but it was because I could never talk to you.
And that crushed me.

if I’m too shy to tell you
my feelings,
you’ll know.
I’ll hide behind my thousands of masks
quietly laughing and telling you jokes
because I’m afraid
that if I tell you one small thing
my masks will fall off
and one thing will lead to everything.
I may be unexpressed but I have a lot of things
to think about.    
                    ~n.r.

I want to tell you
that I can do without you.
But I'd be lying.

i feel as though you should know
that the falling was a beautiful blur
but i guess i was hoping that
you'd catch me in the end

the taste of nicotine, infecting the young
the deep breath in, corroding my lungs
the squelch of a flame beneath my boot
the extinguished warmth between me and you.

inhale quick, forget as i try
leaving room for sickness to grow

blaming the numbness on the high
i still feel nothing when i'm low.

As I sit and watch the wildflowers
I think how humans have no roots
Nothing to hold us back, but nothing to save us
From life's trampling boots

As I sit and watch the wildflowers
I wonder why they are weeds
Their only crime in life
Is to spread their lovely seeds

As I sit and watch the wildflowers
I think of all their trouble
We think of ways to **** them
All that should be left is ruin and rubble