If I could turn back time
I would hit Backspace all day,
Id put on Caps Lock
and SHOUT what I say.

I'd use the whole Alphabet
To tell you hello,
Press seven Numbers
Til you picked up the phone.

I'd Tab through the comments
I didn't want to hear,
And use the Arrow Keys
To drag your body near.

I would Delete the harsh words
I didn't mean to speak,
And Insert the "I love yous"
I before couldn't leak.

I would use Ctrl to
Keep reigns over my heart,
And I would Escape lies
That tore us apart.

I'd Print out your photo
And kiss it goodnight,
Use the Calculator
To check that we were right.

I'd Paint you a picture
of us, you and me,
Then I'd hit Enter
Just so you would see.

Those are the things
I would do in my strife,
If only Backspace
worked in real life.

To you, who has a hold of my heart.

To you.

To you who has managed to mold it in so many painful ways.

To you.

To you who has taken something so fragile, and exposed it to the flames.

To you.

To you who has opened my eyes and mind to new possibilities, yet hold me back.

To you.

To you that will continue to hold my heart over the fires, never putting it out of it's misery.

To you.

To you who holds power over my every waking thought and unconscious mind.

To you.

To you, who whispers sweet nothings, healing the burns with your cool words, then tossing me back to hell.

To you.

To you, the one I will still love, despite it all.

To you, who says you're sorry.

But it is too late, the damage is done, and I have been burned.

So, to you, who has taken me captive in my own mind.

To you.

It took me seven years
to realise
the words in my mind
were too deep for
my mouth to dig up
I thought it was easier
to open my skin
and let the truth
pour down my arms

It took me seven years
to realise
nobody should be allowed
to touch parts
of your home
or hold pieces  
of your heart
that you don't yet understand

It took me seven years
to realise
I will wear these scars
forever
I'll carry them
through every smile
every kiss
every concerned gaze
I'll carry them
to my grave

It took me seven years
to realise
the pain carved
into the walls
of my castle
etchings of
attempting to disappear
are not a story of weakness
but a tale of
how I survived

I was alone.
I was fine.
The artist happened,
Taught me life on Canvas.
I fell in love.
He left me in vain.
The hunter happened,
Taught me life in Wild.
I fell in love.
He left me in pain.
The teacher happened,
Taught me life of Words.
I fell in love.
He left me insane.
The writer happened,
Taught me life with Ink.
I fell in love.
He left me drained.
The NoFace happened,
Taught me life,
I fell in love.
He left me dead.

People like you and me have grown used to dancing along,
To the raggedy tune of someone else's song.
We are able to dance, and smile, and duck, and roll, and weave,
While still clinging tightly to the things that we believe.
Sometimes we are led to believe we will lose it all; our heart, our soul, our very name,
Afraid they'll take away the us-ness of us; but still we play their game.

I wonder how many others know how to fake their hand?
Who keep the love caged up inside, to appear "normal" and bland?
Perhaps it is just us, perhaps just you, or, again, perhaps just me,
Or perhaps each individual just sees what they want to see.

Perhaps.

Perhaps...

Or perhaps, but...

I had a vision once; all the bad thoughts in the world were mine;
I ****** them in from everyone else, so that all the world felt fine,
And while all other folk were safe at rest, I cried and cried and cried,
And toddled down some empty street, slumped down a wall, and died,
Taking with me all the evil thoughts- the hate, the pain, the strife;
I believe it was the happiest I'd felt in all my life.

I tell you that to tell you this; all people's pain is pain to me,
And I would gladly give you happiness, in exchange for misery.
Don't keep those thoughts locked up inside, and hoard them for your own,
Or both you and I will surely die depressed- afraid- alone.

she was a leaf
holding up the blossom
that grew above her

it is hard to love a flower
because beauty
is sometimes vain

that is why i love her
and not the flower
for leaves are not vain
they do not envy
they are kind
and they are true

it is easy to let beauty blind you
for leaves fall before petals wilt
-k.j.c

What is a tear, but nurture for the rose,
whose bloom makes bright the darkest of the night,
and dulls all things for not, but what it chose,
to save and wait for when the soul needs flight.

What void that fills a space before its time,
does too find deep the nothing of its place,
and rends the heart but for what is benign,
to reach the far-off end of this dark race.

What choice is this to give a passing thought,
to shed a tear and fill the earth with day.
for those who find they wish to sit and rot,
the trap of ease brings toll that they must pay.

This act is one that most will find in fear.
In truth its just the shedding of a tear.