Awe filling my lungs,
"The sky is so pretty,"
"But not as pretty as you."
Regret filling my lungs,
I had meant what I said,
Your beauty runs parallel to that of the sky,
Guilt filling my lungs,
But do my words scar your soul?
A feminine word such as pretty,
Defining your charming nature?
Shame filling my lungs,
I hadn't meant to hurt you,
My only wish was to tell you,
That you can be compared to the sky,
You emcampus my world.
Passion filling my lungs,
As love bubbles forth.

They say there is a man in the moon,
How he got stuck in that orb they’ll never know – But I do.
I say that there is a man in our sky.
The stars are the freckles dotting his face,
Gifted to him by his golden eye,
Each dot fading behind a pale blush by morning,
As his glimmering eye guards the day,
So his moonlit eye can rest.
A quiet observer,
He watches over this world,
A dinner table of his entertainment,
Watching the living from day to day.
But by nightfall,
Our man in the moon,
Is but a reflection of himself,
Painted in the glimmering iris.

A field of crystals,
Obstructed by light,
Pouring from the wheat.
Shining bright blue,
Particles floating,
Dancing through the air.
Summer mist,
Swaying in sweeping winds.
Here I sit,
And wait.

This weight called gravity,
I cannot defy it.
It's pulling me closer to you.
I don't wanna admit
That I'm questioning it,
That I'm capable of these emotions,
I want to turn an anti gravity switch,
And come back down to Earth.
I need to protect my brain,
Before you **** out all my air.
I need some space to breathe.
To choose if I will fly to the moon,
Or come back home.
Yet it's not my choice.
The gravity pulls me
Despite my commplaints and questions.

Isn’t a home warm and welcoming?
Safe and soothing?
A home is good food,
And heartfelt laughter.

But each river has two banks,
One could be the perfect beach,
But on the other,
Mud and dirt await.

Sleeping in that room gives me nightmares,
Conversations are always arguments.
Home is a spider web I’m trapped in,
But never quite sure If I should escape.

One day they’re all teasing and tickle fights,
Smiles bubbling to the surface in my mom’s homemade chicken soup.
The next their faces contort,
Disapproval filling their countence.

Home is warm blankets while we watch movies,
All huddled together,
Hot chocolate at the ready.
But home is also a room I lock myself in,
Running from their yelling.

Home is secrets kept between sisters,
Whispered to eager ears.
Or surviving a bus ride together,
While sharing our music.

But home is also a bus ride away,
An eternity of mockery,
And name calling.
Of music to block out their voices.

Cold one day,
Warm the next,
My family is my home.

The black structures,
Mirroring each other,
Synchronized,
Their hands tick - tocking,
To the same beat,
Oh how I envy you.

My heart is flawed, tender, and inexperienced. Love has never fallen easily into it's midst. And yet, here I am, falling more and more for you. Why must I be so unsure? Why must I question my feelings towards you? Under normal circumstances, if my falling in love could even hope to be considered normal, I'd tell my friends in a heart beat. By my heart is wavering and unsure ... or maybe it's my mind. My heart seems set enough and drawn to you, but my mind is questioning and is looking to be logical. When will I know for sure how I feel about you?

            Sincerely an admirer who wants to understand.

A being was born,
Cast in emotion,
The iron that molded her.
Embedded with jewels,
Feelings of every fragment.
But this grandeur didn't suffice.
She pleaded with the muses,
Begging for a way to share her talent.
And so they armed her,
An arsenal of words at her command,
Formed to relay thoughts and feelings.
She spoke until her mouth ran dry,
And her inspiration low.
Once more she came before her muses,
Hoping for a medium other than her voice.
For words do not last and can be easily forgotten.
Again they complied.
This time she was gifted paper and pens as to record her portrayals.
And so she went to work,
Writing and creating as the inspiration struck.
And the muses rejoiced,
For more began to take up pens and spread her gift beside her.

Sorrow,
A needle,
****** at the heart,
Red,
Thick
Bleeding through,
What is wrong with you?

The God who created all things whispers in my ear,
He tells me I'm loved,
That I'm more than the pain,
The God who created all things whispers in my ear,
He says I was worth saving,
And my life was meant to continue,
The God who created all things whispers in my ear,
His vioce is a melody of the tides,
The wind dancing through trees,
The God who created all things whispers in my ear,
He draws me close through nature,
At peace within his arms,
The God who created all things whispers in my ear,
He tells me that I'm loved,
And I am one with the universe.