Perfect lives,
Perfect paradise,
Snap, snap, snap and the camera is clear,
Flash, flash, flash and a couple of hashtags then add a filter to hide,
That splinter- the splinter in your mind scratching inside telling you to do this till you die,
Watching me, watch me, love and adore me, likes, views, and comments are all that feed me.
Trying to surpass your perfect life, it’s a ******* circle with a stabbing knife.
You’re missing out on life, you see nothing at all and you call this an adventure.
Once in a lifetime trip with the sun and the sand, you’re sitting with your phone in your hand and all that you're worried about is streaking your fake tan,
This is fakery in the making.

Ode to the artist,
Who wears her heart on her sleeve,
Who never leaves her house without a paintbrush,
Who'd rather go on a date to a gallery,
Instead of a coffee shop,
Who's got more paint on their clothes,
Then in their art boxes,

Ode to the muse,
Who're aching soft hands are caught in her dark, messy hair,
Leather jackets, skinny jeans and cat-eye eyeliner,
Electric eyes,
She's a devil on fire,
She's got your name written on a cigarette,
So with every drag,
It burns a little more and hurts a little less,

Ode to the poet,
Who sits on her window ledge,
Watching the city lights,
With her head in the clouds,
At 4 am,
Tired, stargazey eyes,
That sparkle in the sunlight,
She observes from afar,
Watching cautiously from the dark,

Ode to the bookworm,
The wild child,
With a taste for adventure,
The braveheart,
Who spends more time in fictional worlds,
Then in the one that's real,
There's a certain fire in her eyes,
And it's starting to spread.

It's exciting,
To run through the blazing light,
To escape these forever days,
To escape the non-stop reality,
To just be this naive child again,
Who loves and explores with glimmering, hopeful eyes,
Who chases butterflies that run away from her into a sunshine haze,
As a child,
I would have underwater tea parties,
Dreamy aquatic wonderland,
I was too stubborn to come up for air,
Forever lost in my imagination,
Now I am older,
I spend my time hiding in trees,
Because, c'mon, who remembers the nights that they got good sleep?
I read to escape this non-stop reality,
We get so lost in pretending,
That we forget, we are only a moment,
It's strange, isn't it?
In one minute,
Or sixty seconds,
This little oasis of madness,
Will be gone,
Isn't that sad?
But we're too young to be sad,
I feel bad for the people who will never go insane,
I mean... You can't get lost if you don't know where you're going,
If you hadn't already realized,
Behind my smile is everything you will never quite understand,
So I'm just going to ignore the fact that you're trying to read me,
I'm going to blast this music until I can't feel a ******* thing,
We are the teens out parents warned us about,
The punks, the poets, the outcasts, the misfits,
We're just the Lost Souls,
So here's to the nights that made us feel alive,
Where we stayed up until the sunrise,
Breathing new life into old lungs,
Even when we were choking on laughter,
Lost in worlds that don't exist,
Sway seconds, ecstatic bliss.

Dearest wildflower grinning,
With powdery, crooked teeth,
Hair, incandescent and unusual,
Bright-eyed,
Bright mind,
I write this although it was my last,
Follow me into the Holocene,
And the night ghosts will not steal your eccentric soul,
You shall always be an epitaph for the ages,
Your happiness plastered on pages,
Your blue eyes dance away,
Your irises discoloured and grey,
Never has indigo seemed so violent,
Never has Auburn seemed so opaque,
And for strong tongues to seem so silent,
And Berlin nights,
And London days,
David Bowie,
Our Ziggy, Our Starman,
Now there is life on Mars.

You painted catharsis,
Colourful,
On the doors of a house, you've never lived in,
Because anywhere would do,
Nowhere really felt like home,
Do you remember me?
The thud of broken hearts,
Buried deep within our chests,
Human eyes can most accurately see
the most shades of green,
But... I don't know what it was about you,
But... with you,
You felt like a lucid blue,
You'd throw your hands into the air,
Like you were the holy Messiah,
At least... you made me feel holy,
And you'd whisper strange things to me,
And it would make me laugh way too loud,
Because you liked the way I laughed,
Easy. Breathe. Easy. Breathe.
I remember watching the moonlight dancing off the walls,

Beaming white on blue
Speaking softer than any storm,
Lover of darkness,
Queen of the cool breezes,
The seas of neon light expire,
And set me free,
Wind washing clichés,
Rain-soaked hair,
We talk rapidly,
We vigorously trip over each other's sentences,
Like they're paving slabs,
I was freaking out again,
Standing in the shower,
Trying to drown out the thoughts,
That was climbing haphazardly through my aching head,
We wrote our names onto the foggy glass windows.

Wednesday, 14th of February 2018, 7.00 pm,
" breaking news, a mass-shooting happened today in Florida, American authorities are calling this the worst school shooting in U.S.A's history "
6 minutes and 20 seconds,
That's all it took,
17 confirmed dead,
15 injured,
Countless more lives ruined,
All in under 10 minutes,
No parent should ever have to hug their child,
So tight,
Just because it might be the last time they'll ever say goodbye,
No kid should ever have to be afraid of their school hallway,
Or be afraid of who's standing in the classroom doorway,
No kid should ever wonder if this day will be their last,
And no parent should ever have to bury their kid,
Six feet out of their reach,
So this is for Scott,
And for Alyssa,
For Martin,
And for Nicholas,
Not forgetting Aaron,
This goes to Chris,
And Luke,
For Cara,
And for Gina,
Joaquin and Alaina,
Meadow, Helena, and Alex,
Carmen and Peter,
You are all in our hearts,
Let's face it,
The Floridian community of Douglas,
Will never go back to " normal "
So, Washington? Trump?
Riddle us this?
When is this going to be added to your list of " proud American traditions "?
There are too many heavy hearts,
Too many dark days,
Too much chaos and confusion,
For this to be swept under the carpet again,
Just like the last time,
We weren't even a quarter of the way into 2018,
Yet there had already been over 30 mass-shootings since the beginning of January,
So here's to the people who aren't accepting the truth,
Who are too " confused " to realize what's going on,
For the people who haven't woken up to the fact,
That there were unidentified bodies,
Sitting cold in that school for over 24-hours,
And do not tell me I am too young to know what I'm talking to you about,
I stand alongside Emma Gonzalez and the hundreds of young people across the globe,
This isn't just for our lives,
This is for everyone's lives,
Since when did " don't shoot children " become such a controversial statement?
Since when did school safety become a debatable, two-sided matter?
So I will join my fellow marchers,
And yell loudly and unapologetically,
Until they hear our voices,
In the words of Emma Gonzalez,
Adults like it when we have strong test scores,
But not when we have strong opinions,
We are Marching For Our Lives,
And this is our legacy.

She thought she knew herself better than anyone,
The hours she spent,
Stood in front of the mirror,
Picking new masks to hate every second,
Of every minute, of every hour, of every day,
She thought there was nothing more to her,
The blotchy skin and chewed fingernails,
The tired eyes,
Reflecting the sleepless nights- the morning tears,
She thought she was worth nothing.
One night the stars sent him to her,
She still sees him as a gift
So delicate and fragile,
One mistake and you’d slip through her fingers
Gone. To someone who deserves him.
You unfurled galaxies in her eyes,
Flowers in her mind,
And feelings in her veins,
You breathed new life into her old lungs,
Sang promises into her ear,
Filling her head with the thought of him.
He has hold of her heart,
As though it was precious to him,
But she knows better than anyone if he'd let it go,
then Darling, so would she.
But do you believe in soulmates?
She did,
She just thought there isn’t one for her,
I mean who could reach her soul?
Its sharp, jagged edges,
Torn and shredded,
It’s constantly dripping bright watercolour onto the white canvas,
How could anyone be hers,
Without being stained or marked,
Permanently,
Forever.