Hiding behind a wall of secrets
Kicking
Trying to get out

From time to time someone finds
The way around
They see behind all of the lies

A small boy
Curled up, afraid
Trying to get a glimpse of the other side

And when he finally sees the light
Words like she and her
Push him back

He finds that it is best
To rebuild the wall
Return to hiding

And go back to pretending
That he is happy
How people see him

And those who saw
Behind the lies
Forget that she is really he

It seems nothing will ever change
Until the day the wall comes down
And none of it remains

People just don't understand that my scars are part of what make me who I am,
I may have created them out of foolishness,
but they were debated over agony in the purist.
You may look at me differently because of them,
and of course I understand that,
they are not what make me pretty, nor friendly.
But they remind me that I am not always correct about everything.
They remind me that pain is real.
That I can feel whatever I want to feel in this insane world,
and even though I did make them myself,
I can remember the pain that was felt that in fact inspired them.

and now late at night when the silence creeps in,
I cannot sleep because I remember back then.
and the pain that you dealt may have been done in secret,
but either way you knew that I would hear it, and I will not say a word of hate towards you,
because we were small people in the middle of the sea.
And when I look down I have a constant reminder of that,
but I am stonger now, because of all the tears you caused me to cry.
I will stand taller now, because of your cruelties towards me.
I'll know not to cry next time.
Because in that situation it made things worse.

Can’t you hear me?
My tongue hurls your name
Into the wind
Moving east
Urging storm’s brewing
Rising with the chill
Of eery lake
Carrying my echoes
Through clouds of haze
Damp desperation
Voice, strained, releases
Surges of rain
And sleet. Pooling,
Pleading at your feet
Drown in my essence
Watch as it breathes
Watch as it weaves
Through the valleys and summits
Of your goosebumps
In intricate lattice
Ice lace tourniquet
Asphyxiating sadness
From sore hands. Solitude
From weary eyes. Silence
From blackened lungs
Darker than the thundering sky
Reverberating anthems
Of my unfulfilled soul
And my direful need
To be made whole
By you

Optimistic,
The answer to
Every First World woe
That plagues the soul.
Optimistically,
I must wake each day,
As it's hard to tell
What lies ahead, anyway.  
Optimism prevails, always.
If only it was
That simple.
The only answer
Is to see the world
Optimistically.
Easier said than done,
Sometimes,
It flies too high
Like a caught Dragonfly,
Leading to dread and disappointment
When captured in the mouth
Of a ravenous bluish bird, big appetite.
Against all odds,
Remain
Optimistic.