I have a fear of drowning
And darling, I am underwater
Tried to tread it
Couldn't keep my head up
Now I'm  f l o a t i n g
My thoughts are  f a d i n g
I feel my self spin
As I drift away from consciousness
And from sanity
I am  w e i g h t l e s s
Yet sinking
I want to wake up
But I'm not
d r e a m i n g
. . .

I'm tired of being the fan-girl
I write for you and I wrote for him
When do the verbs stop
And the actions begin

My skin throbs.

Unloved,
my heart beats itself
to death.

I wore "too much black" today
I wish I was allowed to look like me
I was a "****** on the corner"
I wish I was allowed to wear tight clothes
I wore "goth make up"
I wish I was allowed to wear eyeliner
I was a "no good ***"
I wish I could wear my beanies and caps

You said you didn't know the line between friendship and flirtation.

Maybe I have the same problem.

Is it too late to not love you?
To take back my thoughts, feelings too?
Because you are a terrible distraction,
Who leaves me without satisfaction...

Faking "I'm okay"
Almost hurts
And definitely makes
Me worse

How do I explain to a boy
drowning in numb apathy,
That all of my pulsing
love and empathy is for him?

Is Relative

This is when she can become herself.
Not anyone special.
No one famous.
She is not anyone at times like this.
Just her.
Moving in ways never to be understood.
Defying gravity with her shoes.
The children call them Magic Shoes.
The world moves because she tells it to.
She needs no one.
Her only companion is the music.
She likes it this way.
They become one.
She is music, the music is her.
They are a blur of color and sound.
The music is the most beautiful rainbow.
It dances across the space.
It is the spot light.
Enhancing her.

Her problems fade.
There is no war, no disease, no hate, her mother is not dying.
The floor is far beneath her, the people are far below, too far to touch.

Comparisons are not able to be made here.
She is fierce with power and passion.
The one place she is strong.
Most would crave praise in such a place.
But no applause is necessary.
Her Magic Shoes send all the feedback she needs in their echoes.
Energy races though her body.
But by watching you can not taste it the way she tastes it.
She can not help but grin.
She feels unstoppable.
She is captive to the music.

Her feet have grown to the Magic Shoes.
They are intertwined.
There are blisters and cuts.
Sweat, and blood.
It is all part of the game.
They are a small price to pay.
They fade away as she continues.
She flows effortlessly.
She is nothing.
No one.

Elegantly she can float.
She floats like the feathers the ducks leave behind in the river.
Like the toy rafts they used to make.
She is reborn here.
The mock titles given to her fall away.
No longer is she plain, boring.
No judgement can linger.
Harsh words are gone.
Time does not exist.
No one can torment her here.
She can not bully herself.

Being in the Magic Shoes she is calm.
When she puts on the Magic Shoes the world changes from a dull grey place of monotone sounds.
What is felt are the colors here.
The sounds.
She feels joy.
Purple.
Birds chirping.
Strength.
Green.
A downpour.
Weightlessness.
Yellow.
An opera.
Excitement.
Red.
The hushed hum of a distant helicopter.
The music is so loud it is not heard.
Only felt.
Music is her favorite emotion.

The floor hurts.
This is the only moment her trance ends.
Falling.
She is broken.
Bent out of shape.
It is the source of her imperfections.
She can not be a professional.
Her bones are wrong.

I will never be a ballet dancer.

I see my frame bent and bulging
Convex, concave, corrupt
When I look in the mirror
I'm never the same
I am pretty, ugly
Pretty ugly
It's like a game

Today will I eat
No, my distorted reflection
Is enough of a treat

Small chest
Huge ***
This funhouse is a barrel of laughs

Come on, try
What do you see
All I see is a girl in the mirror
I wish was not
Me

I said I didn't have a gift
He said it was poetry
I laughed at him

I stand on top of my little world
And scream his name
Over and over.
The absence, the want
They drive me insane,
And I wait for the day
I hear the hills echo back
My name.