Secrets The very word triggers a flood of nervous, guilty feelings.
Why?
Do we all hold some sort of deep secret?
We all have them, some have many, while some have just one, but that one
holds more intensity than gravity holding Earth together.

Our own self denial cannot run from this this very word.
We run from lies, love, and pain.
But truth be told,
We cannot even simply run from the word, let alone secrets themselves.

Destroy yourself or heal yourself up, by asking yourself
Why?
Why do I get so anxious about
Secrets?

I love you.
But you hate me.

That's fine, because I hate myself, too.

I love not only you, but your hatred towards me as well.

She did not care.

Why should she?

What's new to make her feel a sudden wave of emotion?

This is the world she is used to, this is the world she has been shaped to know. And to survive for her own well-being, she can't care.

And she won't care.

She won't care because she cares too much.
But obviously she doesn't care enough to not become what the dystopian world wants her to.

There lives a world

Where nights are calm as war

And we have yet to explore

Beyond the biased box.


A violent storm breaking in

And running their home,

Taking everything that,

Even the children own.


Installing fear that none can hear

With their backs to the door,

Discerning false information with only an ear.

No eyes.


Will it ever end? When, why?

Because doves don't exist on either side.

Entering my own daydream
Where birds fly with the wind
  When I can be free
And where time has no end

  Sitting with myself with wonder
About the cruel, dull world out there
  Wishing someone will bring thunder
To the quiet planet, the most rare

  Hello, is there anyone like me?
Who sees the world now
  And how the world should be?
If only the one's I want, knew how

  Lost in thought it may seem
But for now, my reality is not a daydream



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What do I feel?

Sometimes I feel like a song
Sometimes a beautiful song, other times an overwhelming wreck of a song

Sometimes I feel superiority to others
Sometimes I feel lower than dirt

Sometimes I'm mellow and monotonous
Sometimes I'm hyper and anxious and paranoid

Sometimes I'm devious, callous, and shallow
Other times I'm sensitive, over dramatic, and emotional

Sometimes I feel none of these, sometimes all.
So when the question is asked, "How do you feel?"

All I can say is:
Nothing. Or . Everything.

It seems fictitious, but it is indeed real.

You think you can make it Disappear
Lock it up into the highest bell tower, throw way the key;
Erase it- the words from your speech
And pretend it never breathes

By keeping it away, the power grows stronger,
meaner,
But you wouldn't know that.

The girl in the backseat
Wants to eternally leave ,
But you wouldn't know that.

Growing sicker and sicker from the disease,
It's here to stay, It'll never leave
I can hardly breathe!!!!

But you wouldn't know that.
And you don't seem to care to even try to know that.



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It's a pretty sad thing
Having to try to contain
High Anxiety

It's a pretty sad thing
Having to deal with someone
Far from who you are
    At times like these

It's a pretty sad thing
When you loose control of
Every emotion known to man
Yet not know the complete cause

Loosing it. Loosing it completely.
But then I ask,
"Have i ever really had it together completely?"

Self control doesn't exist when these outbreaks occur
My mind wanders from every corner
My heart races
My mind spaces

And I have no one to blame
Not even myself.

It's a pretty sad thing

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A beautiful suicide is what I wish to succeed
Let the Earth take me in as it's own.

It's time to leave my lively throne.

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The mind is what disrupts and corrupts the soul.

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The sky looks down on me, trying to lift my spirits
What it odes know is that I admire it greatly and that I love it so,
But what it does not know is that no matter what crosses my path, I can
Never truly be happy. Why? I've no idea.
I wish it would go away and leave my presence, but then would my eyes
No longer see poetic wisdom within the standardized society?
I would no longer see or feel the realsm of ones true emotional state.
Why be blinded by a lie? Beautiful, yes- but a lie it truly is.
I'd rather know and accept the tragic truth.
Being overall happy is a goal in which is not in reach and achievable.

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Everybody loves her
Because of her face and her voice
But maybe it would all be different
If she actually had a choice.



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I'm tired of being alone.
I'm tired of being afraid to spread my wings and fly.
I'm tired of fearing regret and
I'm tired of of feeling regret.

I'm tired of being independent.
I'm exhausted in the most severely way possible,
and I'm tired of getting used to pain & neglect.

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I never thought I would be one to live through the end.
I thought by the time my eyes were open, it wouldn't come for years,
after my eyes had been long closed.
But in reality, in which i'm living, the end is here,
and I am witnessing it's tainted glory.

Now when I think back, I realize I had been sailing
not only through my years,
but of the years leading up to the complete end.

The loss of time. The loss of the past.

We aren't supposed to not change things, but we don't change what we're supposed to, and we change the things we're not.

  I am witnessing the biggest natural disaster amongst humanity.
Why me? Why now? I had not prepared. Now I'm stuck at a
crossroad because of my lack of preparation.

Sometimes I'd like to die, but i cannot leave this tragic world behind.
I must fight. Not only for myself,
but for what little life is left for this world.

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They're going to tell you to not get involved,
they're gonna say it's not your place,
but when you know something is right,
you're going to fight for it with all your might.
No matter what happens,
no matter what they say,
you're going to stick up for what's right
and Fight Fight Fight

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Guess what? I wanna die, not all the time, but every night.
I love to soar through nature's door, but when society kicks in, I don't anymore

No one can see behind one part of me, and it's sad to say,
Part of me wants it that way
But there's another side, that wants to strive,
Out from the hole
its been it's whole life

And if you're too blind to see, I guess it's all on me.
I'm done trying to show
I just thought you ought to know

But now I'm done, I'll just sail away
And just go back to the struggle of each day.

Don't feel bad, it is what it is,
I was just the girl who fell
into it.

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Looking up from a dark, cold well
I see a peak of light up above in a vast distance.
However, seeing the light makes the distance feel shorter.
The light is close, but not in my reach.

Throughout my life I had been pushed closer and closer to the edge of the well, and finally was pushed to the bottom.
Realization soon overcame me.

I must reach the top.
I must fight my way to get there.
I use all my strength to climb the brickwall and am of great distance from the cold, dark ground below me.
However, the light from above keeps getting further and further away as I climb.
I will never reach the top,
But knowing I'm fighting to get there, is all I need to be satisfied.

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Constant frustration and exhaustion occurs when at school
Panic, anxiety, rage, and sorrow
Yet silence is all I project

School is for work, which I am dissatisfied with
I'm a free-spirit, not a soldier of society

Boring, oh so boring!
I have more to believe in life than the standard "school"

School makes me frown, and I constantly look down
But it is the only way out.

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There are flapjacks singing in the rain
Elephants who are calling my name
I look over at a kangaroo playing a card game
Am I insane?

Flashy colors with flying llamas
A pink panda, is my mama
I see a dolphin who looks like Obama
I need my salsa

In my car, I see dancing spaghetti
It's moving its noodles, like wobbly jelly

You are reading this, yes I can see
But look around, it's not all what it seems
Psychedelic and hallucinations
It's time for tea,
and celebration

Oh hail! The flying nun!
Here comes the cheetah's run
Never look into the sun
Because that is where this has begun.


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