I wonder if you're lonely,
Somewhere out beneath the vibrant colors,
The oohs and the awes,
Always make my heart ache,
I wonder if you feel it like I do,
Or if you hold another's hand,
Long washed passed,
Like oceans and sand,
These days I've nearly given up it seems,
On romance and dreams,
The distance between us,
Like the echoes of sound after the crackle and boom,
I remember when you were lonely,
A girl trapped in her world,
Trapped in her room.
I wish darling flower,
That I could be the heart
That  makes you ooh and awe,
I wish perhaps one more moment,
that for a moment you saw,
how special you are to me,
That I could make you bloom.

I cry
But not as you do
My tears are not saline
And they do not fall from my eyes

I cry
And with the tears fall years and years of pain and torture
With the tears fall decades of gloom and darkness
With the tears fall chains and ropes and blindfolds

I cry*.
But not as you do
My tears are crimson in shade
And they fall from my wrists.

DEPRESSION IS BLACK AND WHITE

SOME COLOR WOULD BE FREAKING NICE

LIKE THE CHOCOLATE IN YOUR HAIR

OR THE CHESTNUT IN YOUR STARE

LIKE THE SOFT PINK OF YOUR SMILE

I'LL THINK OF THAT AND FEEL FINE FOR A WHILE

LIKE THE ALMOND OF YOUR SKIN

OR YOUR GREEN JACKET I WISH I WERE IN

THE WARM REDNESS OF YOUR HEART

YES THAT WOULD BE A LOVELY START

THE FIRE BURNING IN MY SOUL

IS A DULL GREY THAT'S GETTING OLD

DEPRESSION IS BLACK AND WHITE

SOME COLOR WOULD BE FREAKING NICE

Dear dad,
I know I'm not the daughter you wanted,
But who knows?
Sometimes it feels like it's been
forever,
Sometimes it feels like you're still
here
I love you, I know I never said that enough,
I know I'll never get to say it again.
I love you.
I miss hugging you, I miss struggling to keep up with you.
I miss not understanding your speeches.
Fearing you, as I still fear, what you'd have to say
About, and to me now.
I love you anyway.
I wish I could be with you, to put off fireworks, like we used to.
There are so many stories unwritten and so many arcs retconned,
Since you died, my life took a different turn,
Than wherever I was headed, with you alive.
Some years I do better than others,
But this year I'm falling apart.
The 4th will someday be the best memory, and the best day to celebrate
Your life, and all the 4ths we spent together.
Until that day, the 4th is a day without light.
Goodnight, oh, but never goodbye.

You're the sun.

So beautifully bright that I have to stare, even though it hurts horribly.

I live in Antarctica, where you only light up my world half of the time and then leave me to suffocate in darkness for months on end.



You're a deer.

Unaware of me observing your adroitness from the dark depths of this brazen bracken which conceals me.

If I make any sort of sudden movement, I know you will sprint away into the trees because you're so afraid of letting anyone get close to you.



You're a puppetmaster.

Pulling at my oh-so-vulnerable heartstrings in the most musical way while creating the most fantastic and addictive art.

Your fingers are magic to me, and their slightest movement can either plunge me into endless despair or **** me up to the most heavenly of all cloud nines.



You're a siren.

Drawing me in with your sweet song only to ultimately unravel me.

You taunt me with colorful hints of false hope, making me wonder if you're really that cruel, or if you're merely  unstable.



You're a child.

So oblivious to the obvious, yet incredibly innocent.

You brighten my day with your silly antics and sweet gestures alike, but you're too enthralled in your own little world to ever notice.



You're Doctor Jekyll.

Always changing your face from friendly to arrogant and asinine, then right back again.

Sometimes I wonder how I could love someone like Mister Hyde, until you turn into the nice guy again and remind me.



You're a weaver.

Excruciatingly twisting the threads of me into the fabric of my being, leaving little streaks of sorrow and joy.

You have shaped this tapestry in the most painful and beautiful way, and without your unknowing influence, it would surely be unrecognizable from its current battered, but unique, condition.





You're a thorny rose I keep trying to pick.



Sending me away ******, bleary-eyed, and smelling sweet.



I wish you could understand how much I need to carry you home.

If my next breath happened to be my last,
I'd want your voice to be the last I'd ever hear.
Revealing just how much I thought of you.
A belief that my single purpose for living was you.
This emphasis of religion that is built on devotion .
Far more importantly that I've lived not only myself.
Giving up everything material .
This spiritual purpose that has become more than a mental sensibility .
If heaven was truly found on earth, I'd repent only to hear your voice one last time

I used to wake up
To the beat of the drums
And the pitter patter
Of solders outside my door
"at ease solder,
we're going to war"

They would say
As we crossed the valley
Green men, green trees
Passing us by
Without many to try
Many would die
Except my brother and I

We would fight the good fight
Even when he was gone
Many months at a time
But one day there came a knock
With many a medallion and a glock
Two men sent my mother into shock

I miss you brother
Though I didn't know
The stars and strips buried with your body
One last mission I sent my men on
To protect your body
With a green man in your hand
Your Purple Heart will glow

Can't you see
You're smothering
My warming fire?

I love you
And I am proof
Filled with desire

I just wanna let go
Be the fire that melts the snow
Surrounding, your heart
And be your welcoming hearth

<3