Have you ever heard,
How her eyes are described?
Their blue as the ocean,
As deep as it's dephs,
And mysterious as the undertow.
This comparison is all too common.
Blue is always the sea,
Maybe the cloudy sky,
As her head is above the clouds.
But his eyes,
The sky isn't far enough,
The sea not deep enough,
His eyes portray the universe,
Glittering with it's stars,
Beyond our galaxy.
his emerald eyes hold fragments of comets and shooting stars.
Wishes and desires.
I can never read his vast stars,
How the fisherman could read the changing of the tides,
Or the shallow stream of stars to gaze upon.
But his eyes hold a universe's worth of stars,
So many I can't chart them all.
They shine with potential.

How much time has passed,
since you last spoke to me?
How much,
since I've last seen you?
The first in a long time,
that i've been able to hold a happy conversation with you,
where drama, nor yourself were completely on your mind.
How much do I need to beg,
in order to be in your life?
How much time will continue to pass,
until you realize that there's only one me,
and that no one can hurt me like you.
I wish for time to pause when you smile,
when your eyes glisten,
when life stops hating you.
But it slowly moves on,
giving you new griefs.
How much time will pass until your satisfied,
until you can truly smile once more.

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.

If I could draw a million dangos,
I would.
But I'd prefer to draw you.
It seems to be almost an obsession.
An impulse I need to tame.
Drawing how your hat sits across your ashen hair,
And your lips part in the sweetest smile.
Even sorrow suits you well,
As I wish to relieve you from your pain.
Such a kind soul should be drawn at least once,
Set in eternity through paper and ink.
If I could draw a million dangos I would,
But I'd prefer to draw you,
Time and time again.

Why does my mind drift off,
Imagining you,
And how your laugh fills a room?
How your smile could war against the sun and still be considered even brighter?
Of how nervous you make me?
And yet so happy.
Imagining how lucky I am,
That you share these feelings.

I shall become an artist,
your every truth defined.
Each perfect flaw,
each inch of movement painted on a canvas.
I shall become a photographer,
your every moment captured on my screen.
I will count every wonderful angle I can find,
your worst side made dazzling.
I will become a dancer,
and tell the story of your reality.
Each fleeting happiness or over pouring tear.
I will describe it in such a fondness through Jetés, leaps and Pirouettes that even sadness could only be mistaken for joy.
I shall become a poet,
who writes your every word,
lingering with an everlasting sympathy and beauty.
I shall spill my ink on the pages, telling of your sorrows and accomplishments.
I will immortalize you into everything you do, in every way I can. You will out live me in every masterpiece that you appear.
Be it a writer, photographer, dancer, or poet; you shall remain in all that you are.

Our world is filled with impermeable things,
your car will eventually break.
You will eventually grow older.
That is inevitable.
Death is inevitable, and so life is impermanent.
Our mind tricks us into believing that what lays before us will always be there.
Your friends who you trust and adore may not aways be your friends,
or if they are truly loyal,
they will one day die.
Your parents will wither with time
as the laws of nature steals those closest to you.
If our only savior is darkness,
than let sleep bring about a peaceful reality.

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.

"Look, it's my blood!"
Words written on paper,
Oozing red,
Her finger leaking.
Her unable to see this twisted logic.
Trip her,
Lick her,
Push her,
These creatures of darkness stalk her.
You see an odd girl,
laughing over blood,
Giddy over absurdities,
I see a hurting child,
Haunted by inner demons,
Confused through mental insecurity,
Trapped within her own mind.
"It's not her fault"
But they run from her,
As if it were.

I wish I could dedicate a poem to you,
show the world how much I admire you,
but were that to happen ...
all would be lost.
I want to represent you in words,
to paint you for who you are,
but ... I'm a fearful person,
believing in such nonsense as being invisible to the outside world,
and that everyone I care for will disappear.
For I see myself as a lonely whisper at night,
One to gone unheard.

Is there something I missed?
Was I wrong to believe our distance was not that large a gap?
Is that not the truth of the matter?
When did we begin to drift apart?
I'm used to being alone.
Loneliness and it's darkness is all that I've known,
But could the first rays of light,
only be an illusion?
I was so happy when I thought we were close.
I've never had someone as close as you,
so much so that I felt comfortable telling you any woe that might appear.
You are so special to me,
but Is this only one sided?
Like everything else?
Am I not a close friend to you as well?
I cannot feel your pain during this trial.
I'm numb to loss,
yet I see your tears,
and feel your broken heart by your expression.
I wanted you to lean on me,
the obligation I'm proud to have as your friend.
Are we not close?
Was I a fool to believe that you see me as a friend?
So many times I've been deceived by liars and cheats,
I was so happy just hanging out with you.
I've never known what it felt like to stroll a mall just acting like teens for once.
I'm sorry that I'm never good enough,
I'm sorry that I can't be your rock when you need stability.
I wish I could've helped.
I wanted more than anything to soothe your tears,
but I am not that in which I thought I was.

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.

I get easily jealous,
I know.
Whether it's past loves,
A flirty remark made,
Or even fictional characters.
I wouldn't call this jealousy "obsession"
That's what I felt towards 'him'
My first love.
I won't say It's not a problem,
But I also won't desert my own feelings.
After all,
My jealousy brought me to you.
I struggled with my emotions,
Believed I only looked up to you,
I refused to acknowledge this crush,
Until jealously made it clear as day.
It's a part of me,
A valid human emotion.
Say it's a flaw,
one of my faults,
but it has taught me valuable lessons.

That's all it ever was,
she hid them from us with all her might,
just the two of us,
but only one was only looking,
eyes that could only search her mind,
they were her precious light,

Stay close to me,
don't let her take you away,
I've searched throughout m y life,
hoping to find the two of you,
siblings who I only share one memory with,
a fun-filled amusement park day,
with a little curly red-haired baby girl,
and a starry-eyed kind and mischievous boy,
my hidden brother and sister,
who I've searched for but who have been kept from me,

maybe it's fate's way of helping a lonely person,
but now we secretly text and Facebook,
searching farther and farther for a way to meet,
those two children from my past,
They've always seemed to be a world away,
yet not even seas need crossing to find eacher,
no state's borders need intruding,
only cities away,
my heart cries out to end this game of hide and seek,
to finally be able to cry out,
"I found you!"
and envelope my two adorable siblings in a hug,
saying that we can be together,
without worrying that anyone will tear us apart,
because this game we're playing;
has came to it's end

Why do my words fail me,
when i need them most?
Wy can I not express,
these feelings you've brought upon me?
This embarrassment stems from being naive.
The newness of your kindness,
your passion and attention,
something I once believed impossible to receive.
But you came into my life,
a bird chirping a new tune,
bringing my life into spring.

The human heart has guarded itself.
It builds layer upon layer of walls.
A different mask for every occasion,
and few will ever see what lies beneath.
Some walls you have created,
others were built for you.
With or against your own wishes.
Until you loose yourself in them,
And can't distinguish yourself,
from that of the mask.

As a kid I wanted to bike,
to be able to skate,
I wanted to be active,
and keep up with my athletic cousins,
our only friends growing up.
But I was not made to endure such labors.
In fact,
I'd sooner give up.
Strange for someone as stubborn as me.
I never learned how to ride a bike after falling off one too many times.
I couldn't skate after needing to hold tightly onto anything I could grasp.
After frightening roller coaster rides when I was little,
I soon gave that up as well.
I never was a thrill seeker.
And yet here I stand.
After failing time and again when I was little,
I soon accepted I just can't cartwheel.
And yet with achy elbows,
and everything else that plummeted to the floor,
only to rather become a roll,
here I go again.
Trying to do a cartwheel.
Just once more.

How
How could someone
Wish to replace their past
Ridding themselves of an accident and unaware
Betrayal

All she can do* is hurt those she cares about,
that day she was the one who made her cry,
flinging her to the cold  harsh ground,
that was me
It's my fault
I wasn't angry
I wasn't sad
She was
innocent
and I was
a monster
Her blurred eyes finally clear, only to seep in their tears,
Everyone cries because of her,
If only she could disappear,
Those little boys on the playground,
they sculpted fear in her heart,
A lonely girl,
who doesn't deserve nor expects happiness,
Everyone calls her perfect,
they say she's a role student for others,
but in truth she's just afraid to disappoint them once again,
a solitary girl who's only conversations seem harsh,
because she's socially awkward,
She's shy and scared of others,
because all she wanted was someone to understand her,
Told by her mama that she wasn't wanted,
adopted into a loving, but confusing family,
She hides behind books,
because she's afraid that she'll hurt others
But in the end all she is,
is a **Little Girl Who Hurts

Before it was arguing and disagreements that lent it's time to them,
but now that contact was scarce little jokes that made up their conversation.
Anything from her inability to speak english,
or the creation of her own language that couldn't be English nor Japanese, but somewhere in-between had taken up their messages,
crossing the screen back and forth.
A few weeks ago it could've been laughter over a text book assignment her teacher gave her,
and last night,
it was about how much she craved pizza from the Snack Shack and mom's home made dippin' Chicken.
The reply being something along the lines of, "Me cook"
pursued by bubbly laughter.
it's these little jokes and joys that help.

My loved one,
I know you care,
that your heartbeat beats as one with mine,
a resonating sound,
A tuning fork that hums in the same rhythm as mine.
There are days when we're so alike,
so connected,
and all I want to do is to burst from smiling.
But why do these emotions taint these happy thoughts?
Why must I be so insecure?
So afraid that you'll fade from sight?
As though I'm happier at seeing you,
than you could ever be to see me?
Not that I could blame you,
Not that I don't understand.
I'm not someone people should get attached to.
My sweet,
these insecurities are rooted in a friendship I've made long ago,

Loneliness is my friend,
and with it no one else will come.
Or if they do,
It is nothing more than a brief encounter,
for I am invisible,
and any friends that I meet will surely leave me.
And yet by saying so,
I feel as though I'm underestimating my friends.
That's not the case,
Its just all I have ever known -
The covers of loneliness I have lived in,
Who else has comforted me as much as solitude?
Who was there on those days when I wondered the darkness at recess,
When words were said,
bullets fired from their mouths,
And I, a transparent apparition,
could do nothing but exist without truely living.
Loneliness was by my side,
whispering how it will always stay by my side.
Conditioning me to trust him.
Earning my loyalty,
that will not easily fade no matter how much I wish.
Nothing in this world is permanent.
I will wither and die,
much like you who hear these words.
You cannot possibly say that you can stay by my side.
Everyone else has faded from my life,
These new friends are sure to either hate the real me,
or move on with their daily lives,
I,
a passing existence.
A number,
in the multitude of masses of souls drifting through this world.

hoping, wishing, dreaming, praying;
despite a variety of titles you can name it, the day I have been waiting for is within sight.
A desire held even since sixth grade,
that I could actually be a student of such a college.
A letter fluttered it's way to my doorstep, an acceptance to such a place.
Dancing on air,
I'm delighted that such a wish could be granted.
My intangible dreams are still hazy,
but the fog is starting to lift,
and I take a stride closer to my dreams.

I’m afraid of Losing.
Afraid that I’m losing myself in your eyes,
That I’m losing to reality as I fall more and more for you,
That your losing patience with me,
And will leave.
Although I couldn’t blame you for it.
I’m a natural disaster,
Who couldn’t see herself in a brilliant light,
Even if it were magnified a hundred fold,
You’re collapsing,
Stress feeding your emotions,
And I can’t do much to help.
I’m afraid.
Afraid of losing you,
But I don’t want to hold so tightly as to scare you away.
As you see my true self more and more,
This feeling grows,
That I’m losing hold,
And soon you’ll slip.
That’s why,
I’m afraid of Losing.
Afraid of Losing you

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.

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?

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.

This mighty beast,
What fur covers your back,
That these mechanisms haven't touched?
In what ways have we not polluted you?
These rusty chains lock you in this world,
Only to damage you,
Bringing strife.
Creatures of bone and decay,
In which ways will nature not take you back,
Uncoil the wires that fasten your skull,
Unmold the marrow from these pipes,
For how are we to save you,
From this nightmare?

I heard a melody today,
It's rhythm at times thick as sweet honey,
Others crying out in agony,
Yet always beautiful.
Its tune reverberates in my soul,
Telling me to play on.

Why must I splatter my mind across the page?
All of my bent up confusion and now happiness,
simply ink across the page.
How many poems have I wrote about you?
How many times have you entered my thoughts?
At least a dozen poems,
at least a thousand thoughts.
I overthink everything I do.
My mind constantly overworked,
and underpaid,
for all of it's forced labor.
And yet,
It seems unreal,
as though I'm living in a dreamworld.
I must be thinking too much.

Why is it that humans are such lonely creatures,
That we need something to mimic our feelings?
We need writing,
To prove through words that what we feel is real.
We need art,
To splatter a canvas with our emotions,
To create something that mimics what's inside our hearts.
We need music in order breath,
So that others can put into words,
Want we dare not say.
Yes,  humans are such lonely souls,
Who need only to realize that what we feel is real.

This surface,
So cool and smooth,
as if such a portal could devour me.
I trace my hand across it's crystal edges,
And hers follows mine.
But can't she see,
I'm not her.
Maybe once upon a time,
but that land was years away.
When witches nibbled at her arms,
And the prince took one glance at her sleeping face,
Before running away with the dragon.
I'm not her!
I threw away that facade,
And like her prince,
I too ran,
far away from my femininity,
Far away from the tower society built me.
Now I stand,
staring into the surface of my past,
chanting to the mirror, mirror on my wall,
to remind myself of the flesh I never wish to inhabit.
The shadows creeping under her chin tell stories and dance across her ears,
They march under her chest and through her hair,
And I, an observer,
delighted to have left this scene.
My hand trails down her face,
not an ounce of longing nor care,
Wishing that one day she too could be on this side of the glass.
Because; She is not me.

Why is it that your so misleading.
Your every action shown to be that of a hero,
but in reality your the puppet master.
Pulling others stings to recreate your plan.
You call them pawns, game pieces,
who can be used and abused to fit your schedule.
Yet they call you friend without realizing your sick intentions.
You cause flames to leapt amoung them,
to become a hero,
when all you are is a coward.
That is the life you lead:
Izaya Orihara

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.

The night moon gleamed upon the Earth,
It had created the tides,
and smiles of young children.
But now there is no such thing,
looking over us on these moonless nights.
there remains only a slim smile,
that left over after the attack,
a warning shot.

The moonlight glints through the windows,
The light playing in your hair.
How I wish the clock would slow,
And this time continue forever.
I know that he will come,
And our time alone will hault.
But for now,
For this magical moment,
Let me learn more about you,
Flood myself with knowledge of you,
What makes you smile,
Which memories are bitter sweet.
Times where that laugh played through the air,
A melody so soft and sweet.
Or when you shed those glistening tears,
When something touched your heart.
Flood me with knowledge of all these little details.
But don't let the clock race on.
For he will come,
And our time will hault,
Just slow the ever ticking clock,
Let these memories last a little longer.

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?

Music is another form of art,
but is it that different from poetry itself?
Words with meaning flow from the singer,
Just as the poet speak's their words and they are coated deeper reasoning.
Music is wrapped in sounds,
that are taken to heart.
Poems are wrapped in written words,
read and loved by the heart.
How do they differ?
Are they not the same?
The only comparative difference is the sounds that are heard
and the way they are sung.

I'm beginning to wonder if these butterflies will ever end.
If everytime I hear your name,
If everytime I see your face,
Or you cross my mind,
These butterflies will refuse to quit.
Nerves are a strange thing,
That sets admiration,
and the fear of losing you,
in my heart.
Each time I want to speak to you,
The words shy away,
Everytime I want to tease you,
or have the urge to mess with your hat,
The butterflies haunt me.
Why am i so shy in liking you?

How I despise this feeling,
this longing,
this greediness.
Your every word feeds my emotions,
sending me into a happy daze,
or fitful tears.
I long for nothing but to spend time with you,
and this busy week that pulls you from me effects me more than I'd like to say.
I despise this consumption of your time,
this need to be with you,
the desire to have you to myself.
I realize you have a life to lead,
and want for you what makes you happy ...
and yet why must I succumb to this heartfelt plea?
To begin crying the moment I hear I can't see you.
Will this need that sends a wave of messages towards you only work against me?
Annoyance and irritation growing in you until you can't stand me?
My insecure heart repeats the record,
as it spins to the tune of,
"I wouldn't want to be with me either"
regardless of how many times you whisper how much you love me.
My inner demons howl their lies,
making me doubt what you have made plain before my eyes,
Showing your love time and again.
And yet my greedy heart longs for more.