Lacey Bows,
Ribbons in pastel,
Poofy dresses,
Victorian style,
This is my aesthetic,
An aspiring ******.
Garters and stockings,
Bows and floof,
Poofy in pink,
Sweet and blue,
Cuteness sourounds me.

Morning light,
Heavy eyes,
Just a dream.
Jeans & a Tee,
Patting my pillow,
I'll be back again.

There's a drip somewhere,
echoing inside my mind,
I try to ignore it,
to not realize how often my thoughts bring me back,
to that constant stream,
of echoing water.
I realize that I've lost my senses,
and my thoughts can no longer pertain to one topic,
but keep flowing back,
to the echoing that is so enchanting.
I make little mistakes in my daily life,
more clumsy now than ever,
As my concentration melts away into nothingness.
I can't seem to get you off my mind.

Don't say such sweet things,
don't you know what your doing?
These words fire not arrows,
but launch missiles at my heart,
and with each,
my heart explodes a little,
into shimmering pieces,
that dance to the ground in fragments.

They say beauty is fleeting,
and I couldn't agree more,
but the beauty of the heart is eternal.
One could never fall in love for looks,
that's so clique,
and should not be considered true love,
But your personality drew me closer to you.
Your smile never fails to dazzle me,
your laugh is always charming.
Such a sweet outgoing soul
That has captured my heart.

You say you don't understand yourself,
That your childish.
You say so many things about yourself,
but why can't you be permitted to see through my gaze?
The line of sight that's locked with yours?
I say you don't know the half of it.
You have no idea of how your presence lights up a room.
I know I'm in the same boat,
I can't see myself through your perspective,
and this is just a game of words,
on repeat,
But my heart aches to explain to you these little things,
to show you how amazing you truly are.
Society can fall to ruin,
taking it's principles and corrupt morals with,
But I fell for you and that shining personality.
Not with the beliefs of the system in mind,
But simply because your you.
The wonderful, amazing person that you are.

If I were to see the night sky,
A vast sea through a telescope's lens,
depicting each star so brilliantly,
all my mind would travel to, was you.
Your my constant,
the sky above.
Each star reminding me of the twinkle that glimmers in your eyes,
The night sky as vast as the kindness that pools from your spirit.
I wish you could watch this sky with me,
hearing my thoughts,
understanding their origins.
Know how special and wonderful a being you are.
If only I could capture this moment,
pictured on this lens in my hue,
so you could see how you appear to my heart,
so you could see what everyone sees when you walk into a room.
How you have a glow about you,
that somehow manages to cheer a room up,
you bring an aura of fun and kindness where ever you tread.
Just ask anyone.
It's as plain as day.

A light flickers inside the cavern of my chest,
A space never quite empty,
But never quite full,
As if treasures sat in my stomach,
But never reached my lungs.
Yet this light tries to fill the darkness,
And with it,
a warmth invades my thoughts.
A dragon lives inside me,
guarding the jewels in my kidneys,
and he makes his rounds through my heart.
Never once did I imagine that a thief could return to me,
What a loved one stole.
And yet,
My dragon sighs,
asking for me to wait.
When will this light shine so bright that it cannot be hidden through flesh,
And I,
a lovely flashlight will become your beckon?

Silence fills the room,
the quite of everyone surrounding you living their everyday life,
but within me,
a hurricane sounds,
pounding in my head,
stuttering hurtful names,
drowning me deeper and deeper,
the longer I stay within it's waters all alone,
the harsher the waves turn.
A hurricane dwells within me.

She always gave a gift to me on my birthday,
Something childish to a teen,
a girl more than a baby,
would get only a childish object,
What I most wanted,
was forbidden to ask for,
Finally she gave me gifts to match my age,
but they were stacked in the corner,
what is the point of a gift from who I care about,
If they will never give me time,
A friend knows what I like,
They make-up to me with candy and treats,
but never has the time to give,
their most precious gift of all,
I had a lot of time,
to be spent all alone,
all I needed most,
was someone to give me theres

Did you know that I was adopted?
A child taken from her mother not long after birth.
Did you know that I had an other half - a twin,
but they soon died before formation.
Did you know that I live my life by holding onto high standards,
for fear of disappointment and further rejection.
Did you know how often I've been told, "I'm pregnant"
And could only wish for the child's demise.
Or how many times I've heard, "He's in jail, but will come for you"
About so many different people,
Did you know that throughout middle school I cried myself to sleep,
only because of the pain this still hold's in my heart.
Did you know that I hate lies more than anything,
But keep lying to myself and saying, "I'm fine"
That I wear a mask around her,
pretending to be the perfect daughter.
That their obsessions have became my fears,
That all these little things add up,
creating a void of sadness that unleashes at unsuspecting times,
that whenever I look into a mirror all I see is them -
a monster staring back.

They say time is a river.
Washing over you,
cleansing you from past tormentors.
I never believed this.
That these problems could just disappear.
It's not as if they just vanished,
I just don't care as much about back then.
It's finally in my past.
The river has helped old woulds to heal,
and made room for new possibilities.
I had never believed time could heal these tears,
But somehow ... it did.

I can hear your heart beat,
It dances to life's music,
and I wish to dance along,
1, 2, 3, 4
My steps worshiping it's existence,
I cannot live without this melody,
5, 6, 7, 8
It rebounds proof int my ears,
Traveling through the canals,
Across my auditory functions,
Allowing me to slow my breaths,
As to better listen.
Pay heed!
For you exist,
And that itself brings me much happiness.
I shall rave of the wonder that is your existence,
Until I myself find my own years fleeting.
So let me dance on!
My feet tracing the beat your heart has acquired,
And rejoice,
For you are here with me.

Even the falling of the leaves,
in their beautiful state of discoloration,
will soon wither away into nothingness.
This is not to say that their inevitable end is rooted in tragedy,
but rather to make way for the new.
Their end brings with it the cold winds,
the details wisps of frost,
and soon the gentle falling of flakes,
that dance across the sky.
It does not mean that when they die they will be forgotten.
No.
They always remain in our hearts.
Fall is a special time of year,
one many get excited over,
but whose to say it's more so than any other.
Winter pierces the heart,
with it's wind and frost,
than warms it again with cocoa and lights,
a time of year for family and those you most treasure.
Autumn may end quickly,
but it always goes in a fading hue of colors,
One that will never be forgotten.

Air escapes me.
My breath made short
By the evading water.
My sight, falls to the floating bubbles,
containing precious air.
My gaze follows them, wishing, wanting needing
The salty air had a time before seemed exotic and was welcomed.
Now,
It mocks me and burns at my throat.
Tangy winds are replaced
By salty fluid that invades my lungs.
My sight is blurred
as only
**darkness approaches

Isn't that what you wish for,
your perfect ending?
In truth it's what we strive for - happiness.
People change, learn, and grow.
They become better versions of themselves all for the sake of living life.
All for the sake of attaining that one goal.
But you.
I wish that for you.
If only you could hear the heavens and stars themselves sobbing for you,
because they know how this story will end.
You will continue this life of agony,
never truly understanding your own faults.
And they will become your unraveling.
You will sink to the very depths of the sea,
wishing you could only know what you did wrong.
The only answer you will find is: nothing.
It's not my fault.
It's never your fault.
Predictions are essentially impossible,
no one can dream to image what one's life will become.
But you,
You've been playing with fire since the beginning,
and it will never cease.
Your cycle will continue,
again and again,
in a relentless loop.
Until only death gazes upon you with pity.

Nostalgic you say?
You look back at slides and swings,
As if nothing but brightness became of them.
Friends & laughter,
Running free & wild,
The good old days when nothing mattered.
How could one be nostalgic,
Of something they never had?
I walked that thin, grey, concrete line.
A ghost,
Invisible.
Their mocking resounding in my memory,
Why would I mourn my past?
I was a captive,
Friendless,
Hurt,
Alone.
Family was never a way to escape,
I couldn't find peace from anguish,
Except for within Beauty.
The beauty of nature,
the beauty of writing,
The air through my hair when I swung.
How could I feel nostalgic,
When I see children playing?
Instead I conjure a prayer,
And wish that they don't end up like me.

Sitting there - being amused on your phone,
Or even still half asleep,
He comes over to you,
Not the least bit cautious,
excited for any attention he can seek.
He tends to enjoy the company,
of anyone who will pet him,
Though is usually more careful of who he gains admiration from.
But this time,
I think my cat's adopted you.

Why do I speak out of turn?
Wy does my tongue despise me so?
It shoots out nonsense of which no one must suffer to.
Why do I write poetry for others to hear,
when my own voice is so unsure?
What right to I have to breathe life to these words,
when the courage to speak them is fading,
like the embers in a fireplace.
Why must I spout stupid ideas,
when no one shall ever like them?
Why must my mind be tainted with words that will just disappear into space?
Why am I so helpless?

brilliant light dances on the pond's surface,
petals grace ripples that stride to it's farthest edges.
A blessed angel who had lost any hope of heaven.
how could she have came into being?
the daughter of demons,
mother locks herself away to a desperate and tainted world of tears,
finding only fake happiness,
brimming with lies and conceit.
Father shrivels in a small world of crimes,
and running away from that which he doesn't wish to face.
God himself had saved this child,
and brought to her two angels to protect her.
He gave her talents to dazzle the minds of those who met her,
gave her friends to treasure,
and a kind heart so she could love and be loved by all who met her.  
The tales of her parents had washed her face of it's smile,
their deeds wiped that happiness from her heart,
her loneliness cradled fears,
her tears created that pond,
Bitter winds slashed at her,
chilling her heart,
until one day.
harsh words didn't paralyze her anymore,
loneliness released it's grip,
she had made friends,
and decided to try her best to make more,
to smile,
to dream,
to achieve,
to be more than her demons could ever be.
Her path could lead her to many tears and sadness,
a happy ending isn't guaranteed,
but she'll face whatever comes her way,
and try her best,
to reach her happy ending.

I want to invent myself,
In such a way that even sunshine,
Raises to meet my cheeks,
Or flowers bloom,
In the shade of my footprints.
Light falls from my smiles,
As contagious as laughter.
I want to invent myself,
So that all those around me can share in my cheer.
But Instead,
I slumber in darkness,
The past a rusty chain,
Twisting my ankles,
As I long to break free.
Yet I’m too much a coward to run.
I want to invent myself,
So even in this unrelenting darkness,
Those around me smile with light.

She is a waterfall,
Her hair cascades in giggles,
As it falls from her mouth,
And she chokes on the strands.
They were only tourists,
there to bask in her halo,
a veil of mist,
and sunlight reflected in her smile.
They could never see the caves hidden,
Smothered behind her rocky cliffs,
Nor would they ever visit such caverns.
She was one waterfall in billions.
Each shining in their own glory.
And yet she could never see her own brilliance.

How much do you love me?
I realize this question is formed,
From uncertainty,
You are my sky,
My galaxy,
I wish to map every star,
And call them each by name,
How much do you love me?
You make my galaxies collide,
Stars collapsing and expanding,
Until only your image remains,
How much do you love me?
An ever - present worry,
Resounding in my thoughts.

I am worried for her,
for her future,
for all the school she's missing.
Worried that I can't be there and hold her till all of the nightmares go away,
worried that I'm not good enough,
that I've failed her.
Scared to death of her loosing this race,
that she means every threat she utters to herself,
That she's not teasing us as she says she is,
that her nightmare's will  become her reality,
more so than they already are.
They say not to worry,
to concentrate on school,
and not let it affect my grades,
and I'm trying to,
but I can't help but tear up at where her life may take her.
There was a meeting recently,
in order to spread awareness to the cause,
and after fleeing the building,
tears wanted to build up,
And let out my anguish,
But my eyes are dry and unable to cry for once.
A rare occasion.
Few understand how horrible it's effects,
how much the creatures torment her,
I can't even imagine what she goes through each day,
as we just watch as they eat her alive,
and the rest of the world calls her insane,
a danger to society.
It's getting worse,
day by day.
medication failing,
tests being reevaluated.
They told us it was psychosis,
that it wasn't as bad as it could be ...
only to find out it's worse.
How can I not be worried?
My thoughts are a vicious cycle.

The battleground lays between you and me,
A Patch of Earth build for this very cause,
'Neath rock and tree.

I see your army,
Laid out weapons at the ready,
Your soldiers carry guns loaded with ' never good enough'
And bows notched with 'ugly'
The soldiers let out a cry,
Letting me know I'm an unwanted foe.
They spit at my feet,
And laugh,
The grins displaying rotting teeth,
Covered in slime,
Laid thick from their poisonous words.

But I,
alone on my patch of grass sit back and smile,
Your wars begun,
But mine is already over.
Making my way across the field to you,

I take your men by the arm,
And weave mine through theres,
Hugging away the armor,
Away the guns,
And the annumition,
And say, "Go home to your families. Your loved."

Yet a single dagger pierces my chest,
As I fall and lay flat,
Hypocrisy drifts from the wound,
And the war starts again.

Beep* Beep Beep
My arm flies for the alarm.
I groan and turn over in bed.
It's another one of those days.
It's another one of those weeks.
A clumsy lazy week where tiredness is absolute.
Forgetfulness stands above all else.
Forgetting my key, walking in the wrong direction,
When was dinner again?
I lost myself in time as I painted most the evening away.
...
Wait .. What was I writing about?

The wind embarrasses me,
Her wispy hands tug on my skirt,
As I try to keep it from her grip.
The wind embarrasses me,
She drags her fingertips through my hair,
freeing my hair from it's tie.
Her breath sending shivers down my spine,
As she blows on my neck.
The Wind embarrasses me,
She toys with me,
One moment enveloping me in her cooling air,
the next giving me space and allowing warmth to edge it's way back into my veins.
Yet why do I,
find such a warmth in her presence,
as if her cold breath was nothing more than a loving embrace?

Fear prickles down my spine,
slithering it's way into my farthest reaches,
what will become of me?
If her words sting, as though time has lengthened each spite,
If the stage is busy, but without a crowd to watch?
What will become of me, if they ever find their way to me?
If art and music are no longer my only remedy,
What will become of me,
when I can only be surrounded by shadows and shards from long ago?
tears cease to fall, and all I am is numb.
What will become of me,
If I can meet new smiling faces once more?
If laughter surrounds the halls instead of evil cackles.
What will become of me years later, when my world renews itself?

I've never felt flustered for so long,
Never have I turned so easily red,
and yet it's been on my mind so much,
I keep wondering - how can I tell you,
How can I explain in a way that won't embarrass me from head to toe?
And the answer is simple: There isn't.
For even the smallest of hints will be so minimal,
So many friends keep saying the same thing,
but I'm too shy,
too embarrassed,
It's not as though I don't want to,
Nor as though I can't,
It's simply new territory,
and I'm too shy to initiate such a thing.
I love them to the moon and back,
for millennium to come,
And this is the best way to surprise them,
to show my love,
my appreciation,
..... and yet I'm way too shy.
Plan C : Activated.

A past removed,
No tears shed,
Why would I miss,
The recess laughter,
Resounding in my ears,
The fires of Hades,
Burning times most would find precious,
They haunt me,
A time to which I'd never return,
My present burning so much brighter,
Hope, love & light,
A future where I can finally smile,
So why would I dwell,
Finding myself nostalgic,
On ghosts of memory,
That tortured my soul,
And gave me reason to write?

No.
They do not cry out,
They do not groan,
But mumble and whisper their dissatisfaction.
They wish no one to know,
To carry the weight they bear.
They whisper their sorrows through words softly uttered,
And words carefully written,
But never read.
They see loneliness as a cloak
That covers them in busy rooms,
That mutes them to the smallest groups.
No ones there.
Everyone's there.
What's the difference?
When your locked in with your thoughts?

Your emerald eyes,
They shine in your joy,
But I can't see it.
The way a smile hovers above your chin,
How you laugh and joke,
Or the times you spend anxious or depressed,
I can't be there to comfort you,
I can't share my love with you.
Only these words I hope will make their way to you.
I'm missing you,
And it's tearing me apart.
Only 16 days until I'm in your arms once again,
But this summer has been an eternity.
I desire you.
To see your smile,
Hear your melodic voice.
My life is empty without you.
And so here I am,
Writing these words,
The only way I know to cope with my loneliness.
And so here I am,
Missing you my love.

It's a disease,
and I suppose I've caught it.
No doctor can heal it,
no shot could hope to destroy it.
It's not contagious,
it's just dangerous.
It's playing with fire,
when you know you could get hurt.
Or Jumping from a tree,
when you know you could get injured.
It's a risk,
and I've taken one too many.
I play it safe,
Hold onto this disease,
and let no one know that it has me in it's clutches.

Time holds with it many wonders,
Many mysteries yet to be solved.
It grasps answers and stats,
The evolution of exotic genes and habits.
But what does time have in store for someone like me?
Genes will never answer my questions,
One who has rarely seen her biological parents.
What wonders are devised to fulfill my hours,
What mystery awaits for one such as myself?
One who even Darwin himself could not classify.
Time mends all wounds,
But can time resurrect my lost soul?

It's cold metal was gnawing at my forehead,
His weight shifting ever further,
Fear gripped me in it's clutches as I awaiting my last breath.
He equipped me with a last request,
Deciding to take my chances I questioned to see my demise.
I turned to face him ...
But what I saw was shocking.
I stumbled over myself,
gasping for breath.
I could hear my breathing as it quieted,
could barely feel the pain through my flesh.
All that was left was my last image.
In front of me he had stood,
shouldering a gun in his right,
while cradling a teddy in his left.
His boys behind him wore sickly masks,
he was adorned with a mask painted onto it with a cat's blushing smile.
I did not stumble in shock,
let it be known had this wound not have killed me,
the laughter would've.
It was truly an unexpected death.

Have you ever had that moment,
when your heart almost stopped?
Where time froze over,
and your mind ceased in it's tracks?
Or even when they seemed to over flow,
like countless drops on a rainy day,
where they passed too quickly too acknowledge,
but the gentle sound proved their existence?
And nothing else seemed to matter.

He was so young.
His father his sky,
and he a mere wonderer on Earth.
It happened suddenly,
and few could've predicted it.
The sky came tumbling to Earth.
in an explosion of trauma and anger,
He boy began to ruin his own life.
Few could understand him,
memories were his tormentor,
something they could not obtain.
How could they know what he felt,
they rarely remember that sky as he had.
And so the boy turned his face from the empty sky.
He took those memories for granted.
And began to waste away.
They noticed his pain,
could see the bonds that held him,
and wished to help,
but he denied,
and turned to poison instead.
Yet this could not bring back the sky,
and he fell deeper and deeper into the darkness.

Why do we mourn?
Because we lost something of value?
Or because our hearts have been touched?
Touched .... but how?
A gentle caress,
Lovely and sweet,
From someone you'll dearly miss.
Or was it a painful experience,
You'd rather forget?

They say my poems are filled with sorrow,
and that is mostly true,
They say that my poems, though filled with emotions,
are too sad to ever be written,
They say these words should never hit the page,
that sorrow should not be shown through poetry,
and that these feelings that pain us to show anywhere else;
should never be shown in any form,
She dislikes my work,
wishing I would write happy poems,
ones that do not free me from my worst fears,
ones that do not cry for me the tears I cannot otherwise spill.
They save me from drowning,
offering a life raft on a merciless wave,
but they say they would prefer to see me drown,
in a storm of my emotions.
Where poetry will save my soul.