One minute I was fine
Then I just stopped breathing

special to some
an angel to one
millions of stars
yet only one sun

comets do burn
travel fast and burn bright
but the sun is eternal
and so pure is it's light

someone asked me today what it's like to be a writer and i can tell you this,
my mind exploded into galaxies and i wondered if they could see the twinkling stars in my eyes.
first, i looked into their eyes and saw a black hole, complete and total darkness. so i answered simple to start out with
"it is often quite hard. but for me, it's a way of life."
they didn't quite get it i could see, and asked another question
"oh, is it hard because you get writer's block sometimes?"
i almost let the meteors fly out of my mouth so they would be hit and crushed with the raw fact that being a writer is much, much more complicated than that.
"well yes, that can happen. and when it does it is a crippling feeling. but, it is much more complicated than that. you see, us writers, we not only feel things, but we absorb things. we let things take us over, and once this happens, our hands start to produce words onto paper that come deep within our soul, heart, and mind."
they looked puzzled, but when i looked into their eyes i could see a faint star that was starting to shine. i smiled at this.
"like... what kinds of things?" they asked,
"oh my, it can be something as complicated as love, life, the universe, darkness, pain. but on the other hand, it can be something as simple as leaves on the trees, the ocean, an apple that you just ate for lunch. and sometimes, it is putting those two things together to create something wonderful." i said as the comets were shooting through my fingertips.
i looked again into their eyes, and i began to see a cluster of stars, and that's when i knew i had them.

the most self-destructive thing i have ever done
wasn't the red slashes on my arms
or my bruised knuckles and broken walls,
it was the moment i made someone my happiness
and my beacon of light.

It's being stuck in a dark room
Separated from the light of happiness, by a cruel locked door
That has a small viewing glass for you to see
What lies on the other side,
Within your reach

It's having what seems like an entire ring of keys
To open the door, yet they're all the same key

It's refusing to stand up,
To take advantage of the little bit of light
That shines through the viewing glass for you

The little bit of light that'll show you
You keep recycling the same key
Over and over again

Because you use the dark to see

When she said she wouldn't leave me,
Her words reflected love and affection.
But when,
she finally did,
I realized,
That I was nothing more to her,
Than her favorite pass-time.

She left me broken,
She left me disheartened,
I couldn't explain the situation,
I couldn't control my feelings.
Nights were spent crying,
And days were spent dreaming.

My heart turned stone,
But it was once made of gold.
Is it alchemy,
Or just a sense of perfidy?

The days are already bygone,
But my soul still feels scattered all along.
Small pieces of it calling out in disorder,
Waiting long enough to be put in order.

I will try my best,
To move on,
To forget.
I can force my mind to that,
But who knows about this stubborn heart.