Tonight you're sitting amongst my thoughts as a Daisy
But first, you have yet to be plucked from the field
The field of an unspoken language
But let this moment last, as if tomorrow is the day you will be plucked
And the day you will be plucked it will be the cause of my hand
But as of right now, let the wind take you where you need to go
Sweet Daisy

I am not a Daisy. I am a human.
Why I am not a Daisy?
I cannot sprout through concrete to meet the sun,
I cannot gather dew drops on my petals.
I don’t have petals, instead I have arms.

Arms can be called petals.
I don’t see why not.
My petals are scarred.
They hold the history of my hidden past.
Opposite of beautiful,
Opposite of innocent.

I went to my friend’s
and she’d say, “Daisy, Do you like Disneyland?”
“Yes I do. I haven’t been since I was five.”
She tells me that we’re going to go to Disneyland.
That we’re going to be five years old again.
So we go to Disneyland.

We ride the rides,
We watch the little boys and girls laugh and play,
They don’t seem to notice my petals.
They don’t seem to know of the twisted ways they can think.
They don’t seem to know that one day, they’ll have to pay taxes
and work a job.

Nothing is the same as when I was five years old.
Now I know.
It is no longer the happiest place on Earth,
because I am not. A Daisy.

It's almost over
All of what I have fell in love with
I leave in a few days
I leave to come home
And I hope, you will remember me
I hope I haven't been banished from your memory
And I know if I see you
You'll smile and pretend everything's okay
The funny thing is that
You don't know

You don't know how long I've been gone
You don't know why I've been gone
You don't know that I still love you
You don't know that I'm sorry
For all the things I've done
And all I can say is I don't know

Honey treasures lock together where North and South collide,
a mountain is a magnet when its tree tops touch the sky
Gentle curves in hills of sand untouched by man,
dreams collapse with memory and so love dies again.

She moves swiftly to the absence of sound.
The limitations are nonexistent.
Like a ragdoll, she throws her weight around,
Her mind is anywhere but the present.

Wind brushes her skin, pushing her white dress.
With each step there is progress in her life,
Leaving behind her silly, little mess.
Once dancing, she forgets the sharpened knife.

Her mind is full of curiosities,
Her heart is rallying against her ribs.
She is elegant with monstrosities,
She has left the island of useless squibbs.

She patiently dances her life away,
For there is no longer the need to pray.

Sunday is a perfect day to spend time with a lonely friend
Take me back to Sunday and start it over again
Long ago and oh so far away
I wished to love
To  love my lonely friend
Take me back to Sunday to start it over again
When I loved my lonely friend.

"I thought of all the beauty in the world
and it wasn't enough for me to want to stay."
-Julia

They tell us that we should know who we want to be,
but how can we do that when we don't even know who we are?
They tell us not to look directly into the sun,
so we never bother to look into the mirror.
They tell us to never step on a sidewalk crack because we shouldn't want to break our mother's back,
but we do anyways as if we have something against her.
They tell us not to be sad,
but how can we ignore the feeling they give us?
They tell us they love us,
but how can we believe that if they never touch us?
They tell us to fear death,
but why should we?

Last week, I had the strangest dream.
Where everything was it exactly how it seemed,
there was a version of me,
that I've never seen.
And you were there,
with those cigarettes you always smoke.
We danced, the way words do on your tongue.
It hit me just like a bullet from a gun,
I loved you in that moment.
Then you got pulled away, as if you were light as air.
You left me as if it was the easiest thing you've done,
And you were gone, just like that.
Good thing it was just a dream.

Where they send the children, the lost and alone
The ones who feel but are told not to
Because they feel too much
They're scared of the monsters hiding under their beds
They want to save the ones who hurt, they want to be someones hero
They don't want to hide in the shadows anymore, but they have to
Because if they don't, they'll be sent back
To Kingdom of Pain

Where everyone listens but no one talks
And the children cry quietly in their beds and the boys and girls watch each other
And see the sadness in their eyes
All the children wish to leave because they're stuck, in this Kingdom of Pain

Kingdom of Pain that no one looks at
With faded paint and a chill the runs up your spine
An uneasy silence, making the voices seem real
And the ones you love seem fake

But hopefully, one day, we can leave this Kingdom of Pain
And we can send the monsters back under the bed
And we can save everyone who wants to be saved, then we can be someone's hero
All because of Kingdom of Pain.

My parents,
They don't understand.
The fact that I sit with broken heart strings,
With no one but myself.
I look around and see the skies falling,
The daisies crumbling.
And with school creeping up behind me,
I know who I'll be once the first day begins.
Nothing.
Because don't you see mom and dad,
That's all I'll ever be because I do not wish to be more.
The moment I become more I have to be better than I was,
I have to continue to be better than myself.
I have to transform and fall into a society that does not accept me.
I do not wish to be more,
I simply wish to have a mended heart.
So I can love once more.

Things have never been so swell
I have never felt this well
Nothing really bothers her, she just wants to love herself
Shadows settle on that place she left
With sunshine and the great burst of leaves growing off her arms
Her face is sad and lonely with bright things in it
And expression of un-thoughtful sadness covers it
She heaves through corrupted lungs
A stirring warmth flows from her
As if her heart was trying to come out in those thrilling words
I would never hurt her
I will never speak a word again, instead I'll crawl to the island of Misfit Toys
Where I no longer belong
I have never felt so frail
I have never failed to feel
We distract ourselves from ever missing each other
But I'm forever missing her.

They smoked till they needed an inhaler
They couldn't have been paler
Full of wisdom, full of experience
Beauty was what they had
Red lipstick smudged onto their lips
Smelt of cigarettes, beer, and stale perfume
I don't know why I love them so, they were always there

Boney was the place to be, the place all the kids would go
They told me urban legends of my town
Rodney the ******, I should talk to him about politics
Scott the Schizophrenic, I should talk to him about The Man
They held me by my hand
And yet I still wished to leave
To leave the Mystical Three

There’s a different world, up on this hill.
Below is a field of broken dreams,
that gives you an unnerving chill.
A place where the branches are beams
where children dangle from their feet.
A place where young lovers meet.

The birds are chirping
The sun is breaking through the trees
The clouds pass on by
Like all the pain of yesterday
The cars drive
Below the blue sky
All around me there is something
Something I can't describe
Maybe it's life
Maybe it's death
Because we all know everything has an end
The waves are crashing and bending their backs to get a better look
At the things I find beautiful
At the things that are living
At the things that are dying
At the things all around me

When she was young, she'd go for long walks. On the side of the cracked road where grass grows, she walked and smiled because of the way the sun was a blanket on her arms and how the trees danced with the wind. She would never tell anyone where she would go, she just went. And she would stare up into the sun and would cry because it shone so bright. She loved the clouds and the way they changed because of the same wind that made the trees dance.
She use to believe in magic, she believed she was capable of flying. Bella would run up to the tallest points of the hills and spread her arms like wings and lift her chin to meet the sky and she'd spin. She'd spin as fast as she could with her mouth open in a smile and eyes staring up at the sun until she fell into the soft meadow of grass. She would lay there under her favorite tree. She would pretend her favorite tree was the Giving Tree from Shel Silverstein's book, but she never asked anything of the tree. She would just sit and talk with the tree and hug it, she would tell the tree how much she loved it. She would tell the tree all her secrets and of the cute boy in her class and the tree listened because no one else would.

There once was a man from the land of Before
Who was always content and did not ask for more
And his wife always asked why he lived in the past
His reply, "I just never want to get bored."

His wife met a man who was from Today land
This man even called himself 'sir'
He had money and houses and bought her nice blouses
And made other men insecure

So the man asked his wife why she looked so depressed
She looked back and replied, "Do you see how I'm dressed? I'm done with your time, it was simple back then.
I don't want your love, I'm leaving with him"

So she went to the future, expecting the best
But the new man was bankrupt and they had even less
She went back to the past when she came to her senses
But her husband wasn't there, he had gone to the Present

To the present she ran, with her arms open wide
When she finally got there, her husband had died
So the lesson we learn here is on of a kind
'Do not bend  yourself to the pressure of time'