The Road goes ever on and on

Down from the door where it began.

Now far ahead the Road has gone,

And I must follow, if I can,

Pursuing it with eager feet,

Until it joins some larger way

Where many paths and errands meet,

And whither then? I cannot say.

Three cubs
The cutest of all
One little girl
And two older boys

All action
Swirl winds and storm
Roaming around
The small kingdom

Three purest souls
The wonders of life
Make you wonder
About your own

How to protect them
From harms of life
Feeling helpless
My heart like foam

They will be here
Soon my wonders
Lots of trouble
And joy at home

her words shattered
because she has no voice.
her opinion doesn't matter
she has no choice.

her life forsaken
taken away from the world.
no one wants to hear you
because you are a girl.

her mind full of ideas
but she doesn't want a riot.
she keeps her ideas to herself,
the world wants her to be quiet.

I let different boys touch me
Because I wanted to know
Even for a second
What it felt like to be loved
Even if the love was cheap
And it tasted like ***
Like the punchline to a joke
I never got because it was me

I let different boys have different parts of me
Parts they didn't deserve
But I offered up willingly because I couldn't give anything else
after you broke me
I was looking for different fingers
to place different pieces and hoping  the outcome
would be a masterpiece
Maybe one of them would find a way
to cover up the handprints you left all over me

I let different boys touch me because I had to prove to myself
you wouldn't be the only one
that these scars marking my body wouldn't define
my worth to be loved
I am not entirely sure  
you aren't the only one who could ever touch me without slightly  flinching

I let different boys touch me because that is all I have been taught
To be a joke
To be silent
To be ready to give until you have nothing left
- they keep leaving me and I am to scared to offer up anything more than my body to get them to stay

seated at the backseat with our song on repeat
she reached for a stick inside the back pocket of her faded denim jeans
i heard a familiar flick sound
only to see a lighter on her hand
silence fell upon us
not knowing what to say, i glanced around
trying to find an excuse not to continue to blatantly stare at her
still, she is all i see through my peripheral vision
savoring the smoke,
letting it all fill her lungs
puffing,
inhaling
yes, a stick could **** sooner or later
if no one dares to stop her
but what if she's already dying inside? or what if she's just doing this to fight the demon who made its way inside her soul?
chained her heart,
no plan of letting it go
i may have seen her burned her throat countless times already
yet, it still feels like the first time her thin lips pressed against the filter
how i wish it was my lips, instead...