I didn't realize that burying my head in textbooks
Drowning my thoughts in statistical calculations
Masking my emotions with a blank look of contemplation
Was my way of coping

They are young,
But they've forgotten,
We grow old,
We are the forgotten.

Her words make mighty mountains tremble

Only
the
roaring
storm
calms
Her

And
Sometimes
You just need a
Moment, to sit and listen
To the noise of the world around
You as the chaos inside of your head
Finally begins to quiet
And watch
The snow
Fall

Said it soft and slowly,
With words tantalized and teased me,
Had me hanging on the edge of your twisted blade,
Thought you were here to set me free,
Instead you plucked off all my feathers,
One by one,
Recounting poems of romance and doves,
As you took away my beauty,
And striped away the bone,
With kisses and your wicked teeth,
You bled me out and with malicious might-
Took my heart and fled in the night,
But I am not a feeble creature,
My vigor burns eternally, bright,
My bones mended and my feather grew back,
Black instead of white,
My innocent appearance left to smolder,
My ebony cloak gleams,
Beneath which my scars are seen,
This wicked phoenix is not dead,
But born again from my own sea of red,

When the roaring winds quiet and the crashing waves subside,
What's left is a silent picture,
A still frame of destruction,
A single image worthy of awe,
When the final chord is strummed and the last beat drummed,
What's left is an eerie silence,
A mental echo of the sounds,
A silent vibration through the air,
When the bright lights burn out and the world starts to slumber,
What's left is a somber mood,
A time to contemplate,
A chance to experience true silence,

Take the time to marvel at the after-image, the absence of sound, the Silence of night,
For actions are only as meaningful as the thought given to them in their Absence.

My imagination blurs my vision,
Site replaced with thoughts,
Memories taking over my consciousness,
Words screaming inside my skull,
Thoughts pounding against my temple,
The barrage of emotions engulfs me, yet again,
Stealing away my breath,
Reducing me to shallow gasps,
Pricking my eyes to the point of tears,
Throwing me down,
Crippling me,
******* me under the waves,
Drowning me with questions,
Why you?

When I looked in the mirror,
I finally started to see the things he loves

When all you can do is listen to Mad World on repeat for hours,
And the words hit you hard,
The meaning sinking in,
Just listening to the tune,
And drowning in the lyrics,
Dying in the rhythms,
Understanding that it's all true.

It's one thing to be torn apart by the hateful words of others,
It's another thing entirely to be the one berating and destroying yourself,
Cursing all of the mistakes you have made,
Beating yourself for all the things you cause to go wrong,
Destroying the shreds of self esteem you keep trying to weave together,
Into something that wont look as mangled and destroyed as you feel inside,
Drowning on the tears you cause yourself to shed,
Sinking in the abyss of self doubt you've created,
Burring yourself in the bottomless hole you've dug in your mind,
The hole you throw yourself into day after day,
The dark pit where your hatred and anger devour you,
Where others can't hope to drag you out,
The hole where you are so completely alone that you start giving up,
The fight seeps out of you, slowly,
Tear by tear,
Week by week,
Until you're nothing but a hollow shell called 'you'.

Why do I ask the stupid questions?
Why do I care about the stupid things?
Why do I hurt so easily?
Why do I cry for the dumbest of reasons?
Why do I fear the inevitable?
Why do I worry about the unchangeable?
Why do I stress over things yet to happen?
Why do I act so stupidly?

When you check your email,
Like any other day,
And get excited to see new messages,
Only to discover the first is an email stating that you either aren't needed or aren't qualified enough,
For that job you really wanted,
And the second new email tells you,
"Guess what? That other possition you wanted? Well, it's out of the question too!"

Every so often I let my soul fly

There comes a time when the waves of emotions die down,
And the waters still,
And you can see clearly,
All the things you've done.

There comes a time when the fog in your mind lifts,
And your mind clears,
And you can understand why you chose this path.

There comes a time when you will understand,
And you will stop regretting,
And you will learn to be accepting,
And life will get better.

That time is now

A queen would be nothing if not
for her most loyal knight

I never asked for the crown,
Yet he insisted I wear it,
Despite my protests,
He swore to protect me,
And put on armor,
To fend off evil foes,
But all I ever asked for,
Was his love,
I don't need him to protect me,
I've got my own armor,
I wear it proudly in my eyes,
They glint with it's metalic sheen,
I'm not as weak as I seem,
I am just seeking the one I love
I'm seeking for my King

Do you ever start writting and erase it all a billion times over, just trying to get it right?
Do you roll around in your bed at night because your mind is too restless to get any sleep?
Do you spend your free time thinking and dreaming of new things you could do if only you tried harder?
Do you sit in the dark of a closed off room because the sun is just too happy for your mood?
Do you look at the sky at night and wish the stars would never fade away into sunlight?
Do you find yourself wishing on those same stars, wishing for things to change, or stay the same?
Do you think too much and cause yourself to question everything and wonder about stupid things like I do?
Do you make random lists of things to fill your time and express a little bit of your feelings?
Do you think I'm strange when I do the things that I do, even though they seem a little odd?
Do you know why I hate un-clicked pens?
Do you know what scares me the most?
Do you know why my favorite color is blue?
Do you know how my hand writting looks?
If I whispered all my secrets to you, would you keep them locked inside the prision fortress of your mind, and never tell a soul?
Would you guard those secrets with your life?
Would you protect me from the things that go bump in the night?
Would you fend off the dark demons that plague me, and whisk me away to our own kingdom of safety?
Would you be my knight, and my king?

I finally
figured
out who
is worth
the pain

And I keep on waiting,
waiting
Waiting for my world to change...

When sitting in the school coffee shop,
And all I hear is a group of immature guys,
Talking about how thirsty their friends are,
Complaining how ugly the ******* on twitter are,
Screaming and yelling and squealing at each other,
It makes me wish I weren't part of this generation.

I've given up on humanity.

There's so many things I want to do right now, but all I seem capable of is pressing back space and erase.
Eraseing the words and time tried phrases, deleting the ideas 'til all there is left is a blank white page.
A page with so much potential, bearing none of the marks of its' purgements, of its' rebirths.
Why is it so difficult to create something I don't want to destroy? Why do I keep starting over...?

To all the high school wanna-be's who think their rapping is a  God given gift to the world... Please stop.

One person in a room of desks,
Eerie silence broken by the sounds
Of computers buzzing and keys clicking,
Distant phones ringing in back rooms...
The musky smell of old books mingling
With the smell of matted carpet several decades old...
All the empty space of an unoccupied library,
It just screams to be filled with hushed voices,
My typing resounds like Goliath's footsteps,
I feel the librarian's searing gaze on my back,
Forcing me to type quietly, in this quiet room,
With its absence of people and lack of noises.

Sometimes I worry the cuts on his body
aren't accidents...

It never stops amazing me how much time flies in hindsight,
The future seems so far away, but what's been done is ancient history.
There's just under eight weeks left,
Till the end of my countdown of mystery.
It's so easy to forget how long it's been,
When you're living an endless winter this blistery.
The day is approaching, the new dawn encroaching,
I can't wait to welcome you into my arms...

It frustrates me to no end that I never seem to have much to say,
Until my voice has gone away,
And been replaced with a painful, raspy disgrace,
Reminiscent of an old smoker's vocals,
Cough and all, I sound like death,
Like a ******* smoker of some crystal ****,
So here I'll express the aggitation I feel,
At being incapable of communicating.

So, I went to the office and talked to the lady
Behind the desk that's not quite large enough for her.
She told me she'd change my schedule, of course! But-
I would need to substitue the dropped courses with different ones.
So I hmm-ed and I Uhmm-ed and ended up chosing
To help out the librarian and to take a design class.
(The latter was chosen only because I know someone in it,)
I left the office of awkwardness and now here I am,
Writing and waiting, and hoping for graduation
To hurry up and get here.

He calls it his prison,
He's held hostage there a lot,
But recently I've begun to wonder,
If it's truely a prison or not.
When he goes in he's silent,
He's closed off from the world,
But I try to find a way in, a weak spot,
A ***** in the armor, and I fail...
I'm begining to think that it's not
A prison for him so much as a prison for the world...
A way to lock away everything that causes him pain,
A way to run from the darkness of this world,
To hide away in the safety of the silence
Only found in the recesses of ones own mind...
So tell me, is it a prison for him?
Or is it a prison for the rest of us?