Everyone is so scared to fall in love.
To get the true understanding and real feelings that they want.
Everyone is so scared of it because this insane fear of heartbreak drives them to drive away the people they love.
Which is ironic because all they wanted was love.
Yet why is heartbreak so scary?
If you feel real heartbreak then wasn't loving someone worth it anyway?
Your heartbreak is proof that really felt.
Why can't that be enough?

The world may see but never view
It might take the time to care but always lose
It shoves away waking days with blinding dusk
Waiting for time to be bled dry
The waiting carry on, looking for change in those who wish awat the days of ceaseless time
Breath slowly stolen, time second by second flees
We wait for an ending day, for time to fly, and never realize how much we waste.

Why the what are you?
When confusion folds to secrets scribed in souls
And borrowed days are weighted with baited scourages of tomorrows lies
The journey is a wait and awaited
Where does time tell what belongs to whom and what doesnt?
Am I all?

Oh if only life was like a school literature textbook.
Every country of every writers ethnicity at peace with each others words
No fights
No battles
No wars
If only the world saw each other the same way I see them in the book: fitting perfectly together but still being their own person with their own beliefs
No fighting
No battling
No waring
Maybe the world should believe that they can all be equal to one another and not thrive on spilt blood and bomb explosions. Maybe if they believed that the world could exist without
Fights
Battles
And war
then the world would have a chance to exist ...in peace

Beauty doesn't matter.
Oh fine yes it does
But whoever said that beauty had to be one part of you?
Whoever said that beauty was resrictly reserved for the outside of a person?
I think it's the inside that matters.
For if we have nothing on the inside we are hallow on the outside

People fall in love in mysterious ways.
They meet face to face and say hello to each other.
They notice a pair of eyes that follow them across the room.
They meet in place no one knows but them.
They meet in a place everyone knows.
They see each other, anywhere, everywhere, and know that they are meant for each other.

Strangers parade all around in their undying masks of hidden souls carrying on with their secret souls, not seeing who any one can really be.
They move so shadowed their figures distort in bluring mimic of blind movements, so cloaked and over bearing the shadows presense, they blend to be one emassive culmenation of hidden secrets the world hides them before they themselves can.
The distortions, so blindly obscure by their unrational wits, writh as their unbearablely clandestine futures draw closer to an edged madness as their undying silence takes over.
Their black fates are met with a silent nothing which destroys all fact, all fiction, and all reality.

You can be whatever you want to be... you just can't be popular
Being different is fun... if you enjoy hating yourself because everyone else does
Don't give into peer pressure... you need peers for that
Being smart is a good thing... only if it does good things
School is the most important thing... because it dictates how people think
Don't cheat... because the person sitting next to you already has
Be a good person... it gets you no where

you're not friends with the insiders who won't let the outsiders in.
You make friends with those who let you in.

I want to meet a psychological doctor who is Peter Pan
A teacher who is like Bill from the Perks of Being a Wallflower or that teacher that accepts Holden Caulfield into his house
Or that pilot from the Little Prince
I'll even take Dean Moriarty.
I want to be able to create an endless list of people who gave others hope but this is seriously the only ones I can think of.
I want to know an adult who has hope.
Not someone who is happy or someone who is blissfully ignorant of everything, meaning pain, suffering, harsh life, yaada yada, going on around them
I want to know one adult who has lived through cynicism and can say they know what hope is.
Just one adult to say hope still exists or just one action to prove it still exists
And I will gladly grow up without a second of hesitation if just one looks me in the eyes and says you will always have hope.

Yes sometimes me, myself, and I make bad company and yes sometimes it ***** being lonly but it means I know who I am it means I know who I can be. I see all these people with their cliques and cliches and I know I fit into it but I'm okay with being myself and being by myself. That I am okay with being myself around others and I don't care what they think or say because I know who I am. I'm okay with being who I am so I don't care if everyone else is. Because no one else could ever be me. And that is who I will always be.

The girl that everyone calls a **** is a ******.
The kid that everyone calls a freak has actual taste in culture beyond small town life.
The emo guy that is pale isn't pale cause he worships a cult, but because he isn't as athletic as everyone else.
The kid who writes sad lines and sits in the corner lost the love of his life, not because he is depressed and writing suicide letters.
The girl everyone calls a ***** is just shy and doesn't know how to make friends.
The loser sitting in technology class with their hand constantly raised will be the next Steve Jobs so he doesn't care if everyone in his world likes him because everyone in the world will one day.
What would happen if we just existed as who we were instead of what everyone thought we were?

Intelligence bashed my brain in with a baseball bat.
When the hitter dug through the crack in my skull
It smiled, gleefully,
Like a puzzle had been solved.
I had been a mistress long enough
And killing me was the answer.

I knew it wouldn't last long,
Those relationships never do.
But in so crude a fashion!
Nothing sophisticated or creative
Dead and empty
That is all intelligence left me.

"It is a poor conclusion that is."
"What?"
"You love someone who cannot love you back."
"It is isn't?"
"It cannot end with him refusing to love you. You cannot let him end you like this, you are better than that. You deserve better than some foregone conclusion to a dead end love story. Tear down that wall my friend. Live a life beyond that corner. It is tragic and it ***** you can't spend it with him but you have to keep surviving. Do you understand?"
"No but that was really inspiring."

There is an amazing form of intense insanity when people say these words "all I have ever wanted was you"
There is a stunning amount of crazy possession when people say "I belong to you and you belong to me"
There is an overwhelming blindness that comes to people when they say the words "Don't ever leave me, I need you"
There is an unconditional feeling of pure bliss when lovers look into each other's eyes and whipser the words "I love you and will forever"
All forms of possession are concieved as morbidness but love is viewed as sacred even it isn't treated like that.

You're fickle
You feel the world
And do more than survive it

Life is about dealing with pain
You live the pain and make it beauty
You become more

Everything has a chance
Sadness, wonder, death, love
Each can have a verse
When your a poet

Maybe it's the loud bangs and pops and smacks that remind me of old gunfire and muskets and a better time for the world
Or maybe it's bright changing light that leaves wonder in the eyes and souls of everyone watching
Or maybe it's because of what this day stands for and everything that started because of it
Or maybe because it reminds me of childhood, innocence wraped into a quick flash of light
But **** do I love the fourth of July and the fireworks we watch on it.

There is a girl who walks with seleves down to arms.
She covers her arms in ink with the words she isn't bold enough to say to anyone until the words overlap into a blurred mass.
She hides her arms because she doesn't want anyone to be uncomfortable.
There is another girl who walks with her seleves down to her arms.
She covers her arms with slits and stab marks when she isn't bold enough to say other's words hurt her.
She hides her arms because she is scared to let anyone see what she does so that she can deny needing help.
There is another who used to cover arms.
She follows both them around in a haunting manor because she wasn't able to stop them from destroying themselves. She wanders what happened to her best friends and how they left themselves inwardly and outwardly die because of something they couldn't stop.
She hides her arms so she doesn't see the slit marks left from her cut vains.

The world is filled colors.
gaze at colors through a monochrome life
And be blind towards the blurs of gray
Glance at a world brimming with rainbows
Notice the decadence of a world with life, of a world joyously filled with occasioned feelings
Feel the passions and rages of red
The tingling burn of a passing orange
The gracefulness of a joy-filled yellow
Create a soothing deepness through a tempered viridan
Allow the sorrows of a mellow azure
To flow into an embracing indego
And end with a royally charming violet
Create monumentious beings of color
To make sure that the world is never something so simple as black and white

They describe themselves as such good people
Just because they un-ceasingly chat about nothing
And believe in normal more than heart
Yet who does this save them from?
There is a puppet playing with the light inside peoples souls
Telling them vanity is an answer
As long you you don't need o have questions
Is that freedom?
Being so possessed by mindlessness that that is your mind
Existing by batteries and little keys that tell you
"I'm doing no, just ******* you lifeless."
All they do is smile and gape while dementors kiss
Because society left culture in a delapidated dumpster mutilated
And we all die in the nothing
Baring our scars

I could write dreams on the walls
And it still wouldn't be everything I had to say
I could write on all the music sheets I see
Unending rhapsody in the joy and it would cause and still know my words fall blind
I could build monuments to time, eras and eras described in days
And yet, my opinion means nothing
The inscibed doesn't change how little I'm willing to expose
Because no one is looking to read my soul
You can't hear me
You can't hear me.

What is this moment worth waiting for?
Where is it, this place in time that starts my life?
When will it happen, this time to become someone new?
This time when I can cease and become a difference
Where is my choice or lack of it
When did change become the only thing I have?
When does my life begin?

I thought I had something to say.
To endlessly express with nothing thats everything
I felt limitations were impossible
I wanted someone to hear what I was saying, even if they were just whispers.
Cause I lost the words I needed to hear since I lost all the words everyone wanted to hear
Now maybe I'll disapear
Found my something to say

Just is a restraining word.
I'm just a person- said Da Vinci and Einstein
I'm just a place- said the Eiffel Tower or Great Wall
They're just other things that time has created.
If you lose the just you start to define what it is you are.
I'm a place or a person.
You no longer fit to one thing or creation.
You get to pick who you become when you lose the justs in life.

I watch these supposed loves.
And I look and look for their love that everyone but me sees.
I understand they speak sweet words of love.
But to me that love is loyality.
Those promises made do not seem to be love.
It seems like forced loyality through something they can't control.
It doesn't seem like love.
It doesn't seem real.
So why does everyone believe it is?

"I don't want to"
"You have to"
"Since when"
"Since the world decided you have to decide everything young"
"Why do my decisions have to be own, no one elses are"
"Because you see that"
"Why does no one else see it"
"Because they live in reality and you don't"
"How can I ever be a part of reality"
"Because you have no choice"
"I never did, did I?"
No

I'm sick of dying on the inside
And being un-orginal because everybody else does too
And makes me a copy-cat since I'm not alone
Yet completely am since the ghosts run away now
And nothing hears me
Because silence is louder than words
Knowing no one is willing to listen because they believe in their lies
It's their litanies now. To know they aren't liars because they believe they aren't.
Is my promise destruction or sanity
Knowing both to everything while being nothing more than me
?

She stands and stares at the endless sea of stars and pulls herself back down to the Earth once she needs to breath and inhale in the endless sight of a million stars.
As she gazed dazed at the mindless infinity of ceaseless star light she turned and realized she wasn't alone.
The silent man who stared up at the awe inspiring sky held something in his hand- a single blossoming rose. He extended his hand with the rose gently as if worrying that seeming unkind would scare her.
She extended her hand and he gave her the rose. In the single flash their skin made contact as she was handed the rose she wondered how lucky she to have found someones soul as romantic as hers and wondered if life was ever this in love as she was in this moment.
All the man thought was how perfecrt her soul must seem to see glory in how beautiful life itself was.
As they both looked up at the stars again they both wondered which was brighter:
Their infinite souls or the infinite stars

I want to grow wings and fly
I just want to feel the freedom of the wind and it's gentle caress lifting me free
I just to want to feel the hope of freedom away from this cage
Just so my soul can give everything it needs to give
Just to be free

We create worlds for the people we love.
Little un-burstable spaces of infinite time, those little one seconds that last days longer
Lost symbols of nothing before but now mean everything
Places only your world of two have seen before
Heavens made for picture frames to be locked away in album frames always treasured by the bliss retained
Dreams of long lost sights but stilled reached towards like green lights
We perfect these corny little alcoves of space just to remember how important it is to hold love and hold our loves to us.

I don't know who I am.
And that's okay.

I hide in a wall of silence hushed by crowded over zealous voices which towers over and obscures the quiet plain thought of simplicity that follows in my train of thoughts.
I feel the quietness of how loud all the voices call as they seem so blind to a single desolation if they are not a part of the lonliness.
The silence snuffs the sound of nothing and expands beyond the shallow gravity of mundanity as the mind creates torrents of an endless curiosity which only silence can create.
I lean back and see the colorful world that just expanded from my lonliness and all I see is a gorgeous painting of vibrant life and wonder how lonely individulism can create the beauty of seeing everything together.

It's the space in between the lines
The limits formed between words and ideas that give way to possibility
Perhaps to seek a bond between two forms of give and take
To add a place necessary between what matters and what makes
There and back again we go, between thought and reaction with ability
To realize there is a space between what we think
and what we do
And who we are considerate to both with everything we may become

wear a mask
hide your face
never let them see you
be scared
hide your face behind your mask
don't let anyone in
feel the fear of someone knowing you
the real you
just so you no longer have to wear that mask
wear your mask and hide your face forever
or be the real you so you don't have to wear a mask forever

i hear all the words they say and they all sound the same.
It's the same lines,
the same monotonous background to every scence,
the same everything.
What if I chose to not be the same?

There amid the mists of yesterday stood difference, a change that had past
With the beheld there seemed a great distance
The miles and miles ran behind
No more hamster wheels and circle thoughts
What had been there to the present of what was here here and now had past infinite paths
It waited.
It waited until the day all was right and then unlike the forever it cast upon, the change of everything occured
Changing all

There are two worlds: one for hopeful youth and another for serious youth.
The hopeful look at the world simply. They see the future of the freedom of driving a car, having amazing times with their friends, graduating with no fear of what's next. All of it makes life very liberating.
Then there is the seriousness involved. There's standardized testing that would frighten phds, paying for college, completely being your own person while not knowing a single thing about yourself.
They're the worlds that you still believe everything is possibly right before you rationalize yourself into your standards.
Life starts to creep up on you. You stop noticing small little joys like how the stars glitter like lanterns as a guidng light to lost souls or how the winds feels on a summer day because now all you feel is heat. You start understanding the what instead of the why not in wonder. You stop looking for dreams and start living instead.
I am now stuck between these two worlds, the truth of everything against leaving wonder to grow in my soul.
Because wonder isn't apart of me. And I don't know how to live in wonder when everything about me refuses glee with both hands.
I don't know how to keep growing up when that is all I don't want to be doing.

Each step I take I watch for no other reason than to notice something no one else does
So I can see what is sacrificed for me to succeed
They say hold your head up high so you won't miss anything
And all the things under our feet, what of them?
Where do they all look?
Ahead with all their heads held high
Me?
I stare at my feet and wonder why I'm the only one to think about looking lower than higher
And curious why I'm the only who bothers to watch where they walk

Dance the steps you do not see
Let your blind feet guide you down a gnarled and broken path that only you can dream
Follow the caress of each footstep through the winding ways
Meander, get lost, find yourself along the way and let that lostness create a new way for you
Feel every motion, every step of your life, and fall in love with your soul that leads you through this all
Feel free and create everything that feels like destiny

You are everything.
If you weren't a part of everything then everything wouldn't exist because you wouldn't be a part of it.

The night is not beautiful because you are waiting for the sunlight
The night is beautiful because it's darkness has its own beauty

When we close our eyes in faces of our greatest fears
We are then closing our eyes to any form of truth that can be formed
We become blinded to any change for we no longer want to see what we can become
We now are lost to nothing but our own pain

Where will I be when I'm not me?
What will I see?
Who will I be?
Can I be anyone other than me?
Surely who can see what it is like to be me?

For the sliver of this second I understand how people see light in my eyes
For this shiver of a moment I comprehend how I can be hopeful
For the light I feel I'm creating, thank you for making the soul beautiful.

Where do the dreamer's dreams end?
I'll promise you a secret when you give me a wish
Whether it comes true isn't up to you
I want a day
Where dreams of magic are seen for truth
A day that doesn't lie about
Knowing every fantasy as reality
When fear is just a play toy
An innocent game where no one hates or cries
Because of everything they have been forced to lose
No more differences to change
Or lost dreams among the infinities of essence
You would be you and I myself
And the day where love doesn't falter breathless
Buts creates the hope it was meant to

If great loves were simple they wouldn't be great
Simple enough

She plays with the darkness in her soul like a pianist to their piano.
Perfectly, to create a majestic beauty that no one could ever say anything about aside from that it is beautiful

The two most romantic words in the entire world:
"Hello I'm"
Because they have the courage to come up say I might want the rest of my life to be with you
Because they have the will to believe that a future will be right now
Because they want the hope of an eternal forever wrapped in instant greeting that seems so trival it's an infinite moment
Because they want to remember that first step of falling love was simply coming up to the person they are later meant to love and saying "Hello I'm"

Love in the past isn't worth it
No it's just a cruch that saves your life from time to time
It reminds that someone once knew you and everything about you
And reminds you that you aren't always alone
And that you are loved and loveable
Even if it was long ago

The untruest lie anyone has ever uttered: "love will come"
It doesn't come it happens.
It doesn't break but bends.
It isn't fleeting but a permance in your being.
It doesn't wither or die. It becomes a part of who you are.
It doesn't make you less of who you but makes you what you are.
It isn't fate but destiny written in something more eternal than the stars.
It doesn't waver in affection but stands strong throughout time.
It doesn't leave but stays.
It doesn't change. It's eternal

Courage is not saying that you never loved anyone.
Courage is saying one day you will only love someone.