I got lost
For a while
I might still actually be
Lately the blues look like greens
And the greens look like blue
Though, All my dreams still contain fragmented images of you
Have I been here for days?
Or just a few grains of sand?
The flowers spoke
But I responded kindly with a strike from the sword in my hand.
How did it get there?
How did what get where?
Oh yes, the flowers, I suppose they know the Hatter and the Hare
But its not about the tea pots or crumpets
but about the four ace soldiers with trumpets
The Queen will arrive any minute
With the clubs and the spades all the same
In their white and their black suits.
I ran through the roses as fast as I could
but the raven was wearing me boots.

Its funny..
How much one year can change your life
None the less more than that.
But I guess that's just what its supposed to do right?
Its funny
How that within a year some one can come and go
And yet stay with you forever
Its funny
How one cat can multiply into two.
And its funny
How some of those long Autumn nights from a year ago will be lost on you
Yet the ones with him remain vivid colorful and sickly
Its funny
How much one year can change your life

Their thoughts intertwined within each others
Each exploring deep thoughts of the other
Their souls seemed made for one another,
Soon fade apart.
The obvious fate of their futures with out eachother drove them mad.
Eachs passion for eachother grew as the time went on
And they made their homes in eachothers hearts
When the time came they fell into an abyss of loss and despair
And when their souls faded black,
They stayed black forever

My stomach drops
To see their happy faces
And all their personalities I love so much
It's too much for me.
"Live in the moment"
But how can I live in the moment when in the next,
They will be gone?
Not enough time
Not in a year
Or a day
Or even a minute
This next month will be the sorce of both my Happiness and my Depression

In this moment I am loved
In the next I am forgotten.

I am me.
I am not Her
Nor do I wanna be

I am me
And I love him
And that's how it always will be

I am me
Not rude or cruel
Just nice as a person ought to be

I am me
I take pictures of people and places
Yet no one takes pictures of me

I am me

I see people all the time
Not just quick glances
Or simple minded looks
I see them
I watch their faces
Their movements
I try to see their spirits

Its been a long time since anyone has seen me
People give me those quick glances
And simple looks
Some even watch me over time
Actually look at me all the time
Everyday
Yet I'm not really seen
My spirit is not understood
So people choose not to see it.

My Best Friends name gets used,
All the time
My Best Friend makes me feel powerful
But also can cut me down in seconds
My Best Friend is a dark soul
But befriends everyone
My best friend kills people
All the time
But nobody can stop My Best Friend
I can never leave My Best Friend
My Best Friend weighs me down
I say I hate My Best Friend
But
My Best Friend Is Hate.

No One Likes You
No One Likes You
No One Likes You
These words shouted at you
Like some sort of spell
As you walk away they soak in
And you slowly begin to believe them

Obsessions can change,
Month to Month,
Day to day,
Even hourly
Its the that one song that soon faded away with time,
Its a phrase you say over and over untill its worn out
Or even a pair of jeans that you wear till they fall off or don't fit any more
But, Imagine
If the phrase never got old
And the jeans always fit
And that song still has you singing in the shower every time
Now
try to Imagine all those feelings
Put into a person
This is now
A person who Always makes you happy
A person that will for eternity make you laugh untill you're crying and your stomach hurts
A person who will Always admire and lift you up
Forever

Faces change at each stop
A new face
A new story
Storys of love
Loss
Dreams
Casualty
Faces full of
Despair
Hope
Happiness

I ride to hear these stories and see these faces
These are the faces stories that will make future generations faces light up.
The stories that arnt made to fit the cookie cutter mold of good stories
These stories
The real life stories
Are the ones that im interested in
So I ride to hear these stories
I ride to experience real life
I ride to connect with the true heros
And to hear the real love stories
I ride to be one with my surroundings
I ride

They were glistening with the green water of the lake.
Their  bodies jumping off of one another ,
Splashing and yelling
They were the ones everyone ,who knew what life was about, wanted to be around.
The ones that just lived,
as if nothing could stop them.
They were typical rugged boys
Who I hoped would glance over and bring me into their adventures,
But they passed by with their long hair slicked back with a mixture of sweat and green water never aknowledging the stormy future that lies ahead

The sky and the sea
Never touching
Yet so beautiful together
Each reflecting on the other
When the sky turns cold and dark
The sea understands and turns cold too

Despite their beauty and connection
Neither belonged to the other
The sky belonged to the Sun
And the Sea to the Earth

The sky loved the sun
And was with her for a long time
But the sun comes and goes to often
While the sea is constant

The Earth loved the Sea but had a lot of other things to love more
And The Sea loved the Earth but needed more attention
Which was what the sky gave her.

The Sea and the Sky
So vibrant and beautiful together.
Though,
neither belonged to the other

Lately I've been going through friends like its nothing..
I honestly wish this was not true
All the newest friends I make come and go..
Whether they take weeks or months
They just,
Leave.
Granted, not all are this way
A couple have been with me all the way
Yet, even those few have started to give me the looks
The looks of Indifference.
Of uneasiness about me
Like I've changed
Or I'm someone they used to know
But I haven't changed
And I still need them
But they aren't really there
Sometimes no one is

So the new don't want me
And the rest all moved on
So what I really wonder is
Who will notice when I'm gone..

And the flowers that bloomed in her mind ,
Were not those of perfection,
But of color and light.
They did not grow in conscious of a color pallet,
Or how they were told.
They bloomed in colors of all kinds
Some dark as the ocean deep
And some as bright as day.
The flowers in her mind could not be tamed.
Nor would anyone want to dim that kind of beautiful

She could feel herself fading gray in a wold full of possible colour
She began to regret her whole way of being,
Staying in on friday nights
Pushing away all possible friends
And making the media her "Social life".
Aspects of life she'd been missing rushed though her brain :
Spontaneity,
Human interaction,
To love someone,
To be loved.
Her regrets made a rage within her,
A rage that had never been present in her old self
As her rage grew,
Her soul awakened out of the slumber it had been in, and
Never again would she go Unnoticed or
Voiceless
She had been born again from the Rage of a Stagnant life

Its funny how much you realize you're a people person until you have no one around you. Whether it be day or a week, you slowly feel more and more unlike yourself.