tick, tock
a second passes
a missed opportunity
a lost second chance

i don't like making people feel
as if they are on a strict schedule
always rushing from one place to another

we set limits on people
(usually those who need it the most)
like a great opportunity at work
or a second chance for a better grade

i wish i was limitless
freeing people from the boundaries
of feeling trapped in
by the minute and second hand

there is so much more to see
once you look past the hours
the minutes and the seconds
and allow yourself to create
your own time

what happens to a nervous heart?
does it shrink up like a pupil in bright light?
or feel like an oxygen tank full of air
and then explode once under pressure?
does it tremble like a stereo?
or make you suddenly black out
like a deer running across the highway?

maybe it just lasts for a little while
like the dew on the morning grass

or does it stay bottled up inside your chest
waiting for the moment to break down?

it has a different kind of atmosphere
cold spots throughout the halls
heavy cylinders feel frigid to the touch
it's a different world inside these walls
no longer feeling like home
children with pale faces
and blue palms roam the halls
slowly making their way
to the next class of the day
the sound echoes
and bounces off the walls
like an ongoing cry for help
everything is chilly here
with a cry of desperation
between the icy floors
and chilling desks and chairs
we all share the same faces
of expressionless emotions
waiting and waiting
for the bell to ring
to escape

she looks into the mirror
tracing the flaws on her face
like her crooked nose
and her chapped lips

she puts her hand
on top of her reflection
trying to avoid the image
in the glass

she follows the outskirts
of the mirror's edge
noticing tiny words
scribbled in the corner

she glances at them
reading the words carefully
as she says them out loud
and comes to a sudden realization

"reflections in the mirror may be distorted
by socially constructed ideas of beauty"

where i am cold (you are warm)
snowflakes fall (the flowers blossom)
under the blankets (out on the beach)
utter silence (the chirps of birds)
the sweet smell of pine (citrus aroma)
(the air i breathe) the air you breathe
(the stars i see) the stars you see
(the love i feel) the love you feel
two different worlds (under the same sun)

no one talks about death
yet it happens around us every day
we lose the one we love the most
and try to move on
as if nothing has happened

we can't seem to understand
that they won't suffer anymore
they have lived a life
full of memories & experiences
with their children
who are their pride and joy

we can't be upset that their time
is coming to an abrupt end
we should be content
we got to share a life with them

they will always be with us
in our morning cups of coffee
and in the random acts of kindness
we see when we least expect it

death is not such a bad thing after all
our loved ones will be able to travel
through the wind and go to all the places
they couldn't be when they were alive

and maybe, perhaps
that place is right next to you

Ever since I was a little girl,
I've believed in a lot of things.

I believe in memories, and first kisses,
   and good tasting tea.
I believe in books, and people,
   and art, and movies.
I believe in the sunrise for new beginnings,
   and the sunset to end a rough day.
I believe in the fact that we are here
   in this world for a reason.
I believe we are all made up of stardust
   and a part of the universe is in us.

Sometimes I even believe in love.

And I believe it's a shame because
   I believe in all these things
   but most of the time
   I don't believe in *myself