A river has flood me,
with the world's lost dreams.
The last breaths of love.
The loneliest of screams.

Everyday at 6 on the hour May Willows bathes in her flowers.
She gently smooths her lavender upon her gentle skin,
giving it such passion it entices as if a sin.
After which she reaches for her crimson towel and envelopes herself in it's subtle yet overwhelming power.
Yes, without this barrier walls would fall, hearts would sink, evil would rise.
Then her little peachy furs flutter to a wake.

IT is this time today when May Willows recalls the fateful event of her youth that has haunted her fresh adolescents and had given her such shivering adaptations.
She recalls the cold, unwelcoming shards skidding across her face. The speed of her skin against the granite causing her senses to numb in shock.
A party was being held but the ground did crash it. The home was wrecked and the valuables were shattered in the unkind intrusion.
But what was there to do? Nothing was to be done because there was no true damage. It burned only of envy and esteem by the suns next rise.
To say "at least" for what remains means "smile" would be simple. To say another state is ill-fed so you cannot ask for more would be belittling any reason, since every story reveals a different thinking that is living a different living, comparing unique to unique.
   May Willows was brave.
But what was bravery when the day replays? And she does not scream since she stayed so brave. She screams inside looking unflappable. The terror is not found in her eyes or her soul, but within her mind. In such a life where only you know and only you feel the calamity, where is bravery? What is bravery? Comfort is difficult when the problem is a ghost. When the truth is microscopic in attempt to evade the naked eye? What is bravery when the scars reveal a story that the body cannot be true to? What then is this great bravery that one might wish to wear? What then is brave?

Let me cry and leave me be.
Won't you just not bother me?
I gave my spine and soul and dreams.
I gave my everything it seems.
But never have you had enough,
old monster, teach me to be rough.
Take me while I'm squishy.
I'm empty,
yet still not sharp.
I'm crying,
yet not a harp.
I'm broken,
but I'm not gold-dust.
I'm nothing,
but still I must-
exist by the waves,
crash by the night,
hide by the day,
or in a fright I fight.
This is my hell,
my bright red tunnel.
I don't remember what led me to this hole,
but it pulled me down and let me go.
The bright red lights that flash and blind.
The tunnels tight and the dirt unkind.
The only thing that calms my mind-
when the fountain falls,
and holds me tight,
to bear this tunnel-
through tonight.

Mellow Jellow t'was a fellow
A fellow so mellow he melt
He left a note for all who'd wrote
A letter of how they'd once felt
His note was proud and read aloud
By beckoning gals from beyond
"I fear it's near,
Yet I don't fear,
Too mellow to steer,
Clear of what's near.
I fear it's here,
And drippings I hear,
I hear the fear I'm without."
Mellow Jellow t'was a fellow
A fellow without a good doubt
Until the day he went away
mellow was always talked about

...Let's put it this way:...
Burning building,
collapsed in it's fate,
deep under ocean;
ill-knowledge learned too late.
I wouldn't tell a soul.
You'd be last to know.
I swear not let it show.
And without saying goodbye,
I'd just go.
I'd just lift off.
It's the land I choose to trough.
Beauty-
rolled into your eyes,
staring,
notice,
clear blue skies,
dreaming of this person here,
is a fear,
realization to persevere,
never ever telling dear.
If I found to be,
you,
my enemy.
The red in me,
burning fire here to see.
The heart of mine,
gone black to thee,
Nothing left to keep it in,
If scratched it's way out of my skin.
If lost the mask and soon be shown,
Finally the truth me be known.
My heart is tainted,
What is that cause?
I shalt not tell,
Fear all be lost.
Shall I peep,
My life to hell,
No reversal for this spell.

Pitter-patter.
On the window.
Pitter-patter.
On the sill.
Pitter-patter.
Does the child.
Pitter-patter
from your mouth.
You say you don't,
I know you do.
You say you won't,
I know you will.
You pitter-pat all the time until-
until you pitter-pat your way,
to driving out insanity.
Pitter-pat.
Pitter-pat.
Tisk-tisk-tisk.
Tat-tat-tat.
Yo­u pitter-patted through the house.
You pitter-pat like a measly mouse.
You say you don't,
I know you do.
You say you won't,
I know you will.
Pitter-pitter.
Pat-pat-pat.
The rain against the window resembles,
the sound after a pitter-pat.
You clasp your lips,
say you'll make no sound,
but you pitter-pat
all the time;
all around.
You say you don't,
I know you do.
You say you won't,
I know you will.
You pitter-pattering,
chitter-chattering,
skitter-scattering,
little rat-like
mouse.

I have a fairy by my side
Which says I must not sleep,
When once in pain I loudly cried
It said "You must not weep"
If, full of mirth, I smile and grin,
It says "You must not laugh"
When once I wished to drink some gin
It said "You must not quaff".

When once a meal I wished to taste
It said "You must not bite"
When to the wars I went in haste
It said "You must not fight".

"What may I do?" at length I cried,
Tired of the painful task.
The fairy quietly replied,
And said "You must not ask".

Moral: "You mustn't."

There's a thought that crosses through and by,
to evaporate up to the sky,
fetal posistion and eyelids kissed,
wisped away softly with the mist.

It's not as dream-like as on t.v, but this girl was a dream to me
I held her close to say she was mine.
Sometimes I feared I would be left behind.
While she walked high above me I had no fears.
But when she hides and is screaming I hold back my tears.
Trying to look cool, because I'm not all that weak.
This girl knows my soft spots, this girl has her treats.
I'd become a dog if she were my owner.
I want to change her so she's not such a loner.
I want to be Houdini to see through her words,
and I don't want to fail and end up in third.
Until then I'll wait and watch her pass by.
Her shirt and hair flowing as I laugh on standby.
She will tell me her stories and all of her faults, while I tell her some of my thoughts
Then she will smile and reach out her hand and introduce *my hand's girlfriend

I can sing,
I can dance,
prance around,
without pants.

Can you sing?
Can you dance?
Prance around,
without pants?

No more dying
No more lying
No more crying
No more "why"ing
It's hard to keep
up with life
when in my hand, I hold a knife.
A friend of mine,
from long ago.
A life I feel,
I do not know.
My memories,
seem more like seas
of joy,
oh boy,
but that's not me.
Smiling inside,
I'd never be.
I'm the kid
inside the joke.
The joke inside of me.
I'm the kid
confused,
abused,
misused,
no news,
bad views,
refuse-
ing
to ever enjoy anything.
I will not sing,
nor bring,
a bit of sugar to the table,
I'm unstable.
The silent ticking bomb,
only doing things I know are wrong.
Echos piercing my ear drums,
from the bottom of dramatic lungs.
Staring at the sun for thrill,
a shriek of hope much like a pill.
I will only lie for me,
not for you,
can you not see?
I will only die for I,
it's far too simple
to say goodbye.

Dear 2016: mood: Nostalgic: It's funny how you look back every year and you see the 'old' you. Sometimes you feel like your running in circles and yet you were dumber then. Sometimes you just feel better and wise. It's interesting how you can look at moments that happened years ago, days ago and just subconsciously smile. I want to say I get it. After hearing it from others. I want to say I understand life and the people who have to deal with dumb things. But- I dont. I just feel more lost than ever when I actually think about what saying "I get it" means. I would like to thank you years. For all you give, gave, and give again. You get it. Whether I'm talking to a God, a fate, a life, or nothing at all. You get all of this, or no one would be here. It's not always rainbows and marshmallows, but it's not always fire and rain either. So. Thank you.

Why is it that on a website where we are said to revel in the beauties of poetry one may write few words of their current state and receive the world, but too many leads them to a lone path of truth and self-discovery.

One too many words to tell how true you hear your soul, may cause others to tip-toe by, but if you say one word we've all heard then people say hi.

I'm different and I love it
                    I'm odd and it's fine
                        I'm crazy and chaotic,
because no one's mind is like mine
Inside every thought is vivid
A world just in pause to explore
I can't completely explain myself
The least to say, I'm confident I love it...
I could see the world in any way
I could swim forever in my boxless thoughts
In fact, I grew up telling everyone,,
it proves I'm not a robot.
I grew up telling everyone,
I'm not a robot.
Though, sometimes it's lonely
Like I'm alone sitting on the edge of a cliff
I stare down at the distant trees,
and feel the breeze across the ocean drift
                               It's lonely being alone,
no one gets me I guess,
because if they try to then it just becomes one big mess
My mind is so different;
so tangled and tied
If you aim to unravel,
you'll be washed away in the tide
I want them to stay and to be like them too,
but I want to be different
Something 'out there' and 'new'
I have to break free,
but I want to be sided
                                     **If I dare to lead,
                                could you dare to be guided?

In space we seem weightless.
Hidden by face.
A reflection of inside,
who we are
when we fall.

Space is kind,
but space is cruel.
Honoring the solitude,
while grasping to never fly nor fall.

An angel without the wings,
hovering over the sky.
Not falling.
Not floating.
Just being..
there.

Repetition reminding,
we exist nowhere.

Leaving fear,
and apathy,
seen in distance,
and serenity.

Pleasure overflowing to the ants,
deep,
deep,
in the empty of the stars,
who cannot see but the dull,
of eternity surround.

Breathing slow,
for the unanswered questions,
and the unquestioned answers,
that create a star so bright.
Being a instrument of the extraterrestrial night.
Lined perfect,
to ***** the blindness in elevation,
bid the truth of all whom felt the sensation.
Springing from these hands,
possible-
a true revelation?

There are places with wonders and dreams
There is clothing that falls from the seams
There are children who laugh without wealth
There are people who smile with bad health
There aren't always tears in the eyes of the poor.
They know on the outside they don't have much,
but on the inside they have so much more.
There are people who go bankrupt or worse,
but they don't always stop to cry
because they haven't yet died.
They live...
That's all
That's all they need.
There are places without wonders and dreams
There is clothing that hangs up from the seams
There are children who don't laugh with wealth greater than great
There are people who don't smile with a very healthy fate
There are tears in the eyes of the kicked down poor
They know on the inside don't have much,
but on the outside they have so much more
There are people who go bankrupt or worse,
and they all stop to cry
because they know there worth has pretty much died
Worthless...
that's all
that's all they are.

When you suffocated your first instict is to escape. So you run and run with eyes closed, and ears covered. You run and run past the best things, because you think it helps you block out all the bad, but it doesn't. That stuff just seeps right through. You don't even notice how little it helps, until something slams into you, forcing your eyes to open wide, and stopping you from evading long enough to breath and see all that could be. All that good you have trouble believing exist.

Maybe I don't have a mind,
but at least I'm not crazy.

I fallen so many times,
so I'm so experienced.

I've been cheated and left behind;
I know my friends and enemies.

I hear the echos of memories;
they see how far I've come.
So I know I've come so far.

Don't have a lot of friends,
so music's number 1.

Would **** for solitude,
but then where is the fun.

Maybe it's complicated,
but that makes an adventure.

Sometimes the darkest times,
are ones we gladly venture.

Optimist living for a life we understand. We were never idiots; we have the upper-hand. Notice their all falling down the depths of agony, but we optimist live strong, proud, and free.

Who'da know she'd had a problem in her life,
because her door was always locked, and her heart tied down tight.
She would scream inside her mind with all her might,
but they don't know what they don't need.
Her silence wins the fight.
Deep down, she wants to let it out.
Deep down, she doesn't even know her own pain.
Deep down, she can't unlock the door in fright.
What is hidden? Should I refrain?
She's awkward and she's kind.
She has an energy that people love.
But she has no inner peace.
Could she be an angel?
Kinder than angel?
She doesn't seem a mystery.
Deep down, she wants to let it out.
Deep down, she doesn't even know her pain.
Deep down, she can't unlock the door in fright.
What is hidden? Should I refrain?
Call on your friends
Your family
They should know what you need,
but no one know to decipher a code,
please I beg of you don't implode
Ohhhhh OHHHHH!
Deep down, she wants to let it out.
Deep down, she doesn't even know her pain.
Deep down, she can't unlock the door in fright.
What is hidden? Should I refrain?
Would I be able to feel human again??

I let it take control,
the thoughts of him,
it was painful,
once the pain was gone,
I still didn't want to let go,
no,
not of my best memory.
Now someone new has interrupted my thoughts.
"Someone,"
I cry to the sky with tears filling my eyes.
"Someone,
please tell me what to do."
No one told me.
So I rejected everything.
Love?
Pity?
I'd out-grown those thoughts.
But....
What about memories?
I haden't
I couldn't out-grow the pain.
The first was the worst,
that's why I regreted the second the most.
First I thought nothing of it.
I told him sorry,
I  said goodbye.
Soon after the deed was done....
I cried.
It was hard to believe it.
I was really regeting it.
I really loved him.
In the end my memories came back.
My memories of my first love.
I hate you.
You ruined my life.
My
worst mistake....
was my best memory.

Somewhere over the rainbow
Way up high
And the dreams that you dream of
Once in a lullaby
Somewhere over the rainbow
Bluebirds fly
And the dreams that you dream of
Dreams really do come true
Someday, I'll wish upon a star
Wake up where the clouds are far behind me
Where trouble melts like lemon drops
High above the chimney top
That's where you'll find me
Somewhere over the rainbow
Bluebirds fly
And the dreams that you dare to-
Oh why, oh why can't I?
Well, I see trees of green and red roses too
I'll watch them bloom for me and you
And I think to myself
What a wonderful world
Well, I see skies of blue and I see clouds of white
And the brightness of day
I like the dark
And I think to myself what a wonderful world
The colors of the rainbow so pretty in the sky
And also on the faces of people passing by
I see friends shaking hands saying
How do you do?
They're really saying I, I love you
I hear babies cry and I watch them grow
They'll learn much more then we'll know
And I think to myself what a wonderful world
World
Someday I wish upon a star
Wake up where the clouds are far behind me
Where trouble melts like lemon drops
High above the chimney top
That's where you'll find me
Oh, somewhere over the rainbow
Way up high
And the dreams that you dare to-
Why oh, why can't I?

I'm gonna hold back tears,
every freakin' day for you.
I'm put up this always-an-optimist act,
every freakin' time you say to.
I'm gonna laugh,
and never again cry.
Because you say it makes you tired...

I'm gonna hold in my scream,
and smile, never frown.
I'm gonna say I'm a-okay,
while you cut me down,
such a wee-tree.
I don't deserve sarcastic mimicry.

But you don't even need me..
You don't even see me..
So why do I have to..
waste all my freakin' control on you?

If I so much as complain,
about you,
about life,
you stab me with a freaking knife.

What happened?
You were my role-model,
my brother,
my best friend,
my life.

"I know."
Is all I am able to say to you anymore,
because if I strike so slightly,
the rain will pour.

If I remember every moment,
then I die every day.

I remember when we were young going to a college for photography meant buying an expensive polaroid and becoming attached to its every corner. Now it signifies buying a portable Photoshop. I remember it used to mean dedication and work to hide in the dark for hours only for one photo for which you'd never want to let go. Now it's the darkness that you avoid because everything must be bright and vivid to be true. I remember how the goal was to bring to beauty out, not shut the beauty away! Now time has lifted those memories and set them far away.

I want to run.
Be free.
Be the little girl they see in me,
but plot-twist happen frequently,
opening your eyes to things you didn't see.
Burning the cheerful into your mind.
If only I didn't once leave that behind.
If I could return to those naive, fun days.
But fun was out and sad was in,
so I figured "well okay."
I dived right in,
singeing my skin,
turning me to the pit.
I was told,
"don't follow your instincts",
so I guess this is what I get.
Now I sit alone,
a pitiful lump of coal,
as a dog without bone,
or soccer ball with no goal.
I'm heading to "God knows where"
on a train called "Oopsy Days,"
and when I arrive,
they will all be amazed.
For I am the writer
who will give them a story,
for I am a lighter,
and my flame gives me glory.

They grab a leg
and shake...
and shake.
They grab a arm,
because I don't-
feel the harm.
They grab my hair,
my fingers,
my toes,
my eyes,
my ears,
my heart,
my nose.
One by one
each piece goes.
Before I can breathe
they've stolen my breath.
They pick apart all I have,
and I ask,"is this death?"
Death so empty,
yet I feel peace when alone.
All those years I cried for someone,
but I feel so shaken;
so happy on my own.
Let my sharing freeze over,
that someday it plop and rot,
to see their grand expressions,
will they still care or will they not?
I've given all I have,
I've said goodbye to all I love.
They've looted me entirely,
do they yet have enough?

All they say is what they see,
because behind closed doors they never listen.
On rarity they do,
they only hear their self-remarks.
Honesty is virtue,
only if it doesn't burn.
But when they do find it soothing to say,
it only tears like metal to bare skin.
It's not that they are blind,
nor be it that they don't mind.
It's the lack of effort.
It pins to us like a bug to a wall.
It clumps into a fire below,
and becomes something close to hell.
You can't hate them,
for what you have become says hate isn't inside you.
There is no room for hate in you,
when there is no room for love in them.
We try real hard to get where we are,
and I think we've gotten pretty far.
Only a few more miles,
in the endless abyss,
before we get soaked in sweet,
tender,
darkness.
Times are getting harder,
and swelling up with air.
People continue to pretend they are prying,
simply to get under your skin.
They can't seem to truly care enough,
to end our war of heart and mind.
So we can hide in this dark,
cold room.
Don't worry,
no one will open the door.
They can't even hear us scream, "Please wake me."
They think we're screaming for more.

I can't do this anymore.

HELP!                                                        I'm falling apart on the floor.

Sleeping has become my only score.

I've can't even cry.
                                                                      Must be strong for the poor.

I'm okay on the outside.
                                                                   I'm crashing down in the core.

Tell me "It's okay."
                                                          Let me blindly love tomorrow's day.

I want to speak,
                                                  but sometimes, there's nothing left to say.

I want to smile..
                                                    ..but no..
                                                                                               I'm not okay.
I'll never admit it.
                                                                                      I fall apart everyday.

I was heading to "Out The Window",
                                                                        but hit a *** hole on the way.

Am I even trying?
         Why am I always lying-
                                                ..on this floor..
begging,
pleading,
stressing,
for more than I have the courage                                        ..to ask for?..

Found by the playground
eyes circled and grey.

She wanted love,
she didn't want to play.

And it was a first time for me
feeling this sweetness wrapped in my arms.

Meek, flexible, honest, optimistic,
and so hopeful for the day to come.

This warmth I feel right now-
is it mine or hers?

Is it to keep or in the moment?

Because at this very milestone she feels so miracle.

The spontaneity that she would just-
appear.

Not at 'any' moment-

when I was in a hole of desperation-

pessimism enough to give away it all.

She lit up with every step I made and I made each step on a noose.

I felt a NEED to be with her.

"I NEED to be with her."

But life has roads

and roads have bridges,

which lead to oceans and marine's ridges.

Oceans find boats,

lost at sea.

That's my mistake, you never see.

It's why I like you.

Why I care.

Without that quality would I still care?

I lose my breath,
I lose my mind,
I lose my thought,
I fall behind.
As my cogs,
begin to grind,
I lose my footing,
I intertwine.

Yesterday was sour, so today will be sweet.
Today was bitter, so tomorrow will be neat.
I just have to hold on tight.
Slide down 1,2,1,2.
And I know I'll be alright,
but fixing this is something I can't do.

I've been cursed a gruesome pain. I must spend odd days feeling insane. But even, my smile will be on the other days. Still is it worth the tragedy it pays? If I could run from fate, I wouldn't wait. I'd go so far away. I wouldn't look back any day.

Going blind,
You stumble my way,
So devine,
Luminescent glow by the sun ray.

I hold you to my chest,
In harsh winds we fly.
The shadows of a beauty,
With a wonderful dark side.

Left soon,
Cloaked by dew,
But your bitter petals fall,
Gently and silently
Leading me to you.

If I could pluck a wild flower,
I'd **** a beauty so stunning.
A precious resemblance of,
A sweetly bitter love.
A woman so cunning.

When the sky falls down and they all must crawl,
            I don't wanna run anymore.
When we've lost it all and the clock will fall,  
         I don't wanna run anymore.
When the stories long and our hearts weak,
Our words are gone and we got numb feet,
The things we knew are all simply sand
In
The hourglass.
I don't want to run.
I want to stay and fight.
Fight for friends,
Love,
And with strength from above I will reign and my waves will crash...
When you hear the ethos call,
"When the sky falls down and they all must crawl,
            I don't wanna run anymore.
When we've lost it all and the clock will fall,  
         I don't wanna run anymore."
No, I just want to fight. I'll be here every night. With the waking of a deer in the light. Perhaps fear is in my blood, but I will not give up. Because I've heard from the holy light,
"When the sky falls down and they all must crawl,
            You shall not run anymore.
When you've lost it all and the clock will fall,  
         You shall not run anymore."
Oh I shall not run- anymore.

Calamity,
rises as it will to self-destruct in me,
a volcanic hill of curiosity,
and overwhelming fill of what I only see;
what I can't be.
Calamity,
while holding down the fort,
it's closing in on me.
I suffer from distress of what I only see,
and I will be.
I'm just as bad,
I'm just as bad,
I'm just as bad.
Oh no,
I just want to run,
but anywhere I go,
it follows prints my feet will trough,
Oh hey,
take me far away.
I'm scratching at my soul,
"let me out
let me out,"
but I know
I'm just as bad,
I'm just as bad,
I'm just as bad.
Bad as my enemies,
bad because I can't move.
Stuck in a cycle,
I tried so hard to refuse.
I'd run from their flaws,
escape to my peace,
if only the one in flaws and pieces
wasn't also me.
I'm just as bad,
I'm just as bad,
I'm just as bad
as my enemies.

Hey, say, do you like to play?
I loved to play, until that day.
The sky was dim, and there stood him.
The man who'd skim across my skin.
I falter of this 'hope' raft, "bye bye" I say, while away it draft.
I hold this shaft. my finding? I so daft.
I tremble thee, I, fallen angel, falling from heaven is painful.
My sanity is stable. My sanity is stable. My sanity is stable, would be quite the fable.
"That's just life" they say, but that makes me question why we stay.
"Mayday!" I note, "mayday!" My self-pity finally has gone and lead me astray.
I've become the cat-dog rain, screaming "save me," grain by grain.
I shall continue to abstain, until I prove, I'm now insane.

It started all by falling,
falling for the spell,
Winter's cold hearts frozen,
brought us closer still.
Then by the time I sprang,
into their golden arms,
my heart was dried a summer fried,
and changed by no alarms.
I never knew their colors-
could shift so sudden,
no.
If only I could have,
but I was left as white as snow.
Then by the blossom of this truth,
I spent last summer in my youth.

Now seasons,
they have taught me well,
that all things come and go.
One would think,
by all this time,
they would already know.
But we are all still learning,
catching up to our own time.
And the more we think we've learned it all,
the more we have to prime.

Actually,
I'm not too bad.
Actually,
I'm pretty great.
Actually,
I'd hate myself.
Actually,
What could you really hate?
Actually,
I wouldn't be anything if I were missing anything.
Actually,
I wouldn't be anyone if I were missing anyone.
Actually,
I'm good.
Actually,
I'm great.
Actually,
I'm not that bad,
Actually,
I'm no saint.
Actually,
I can be me.
Actually,
I can and am
Actually,
I'd never want to be the same.
Because...
Being a robot would be such a shame.

I didn't ask questions. I didn't have the right words, or the exact thought I needed. I said, "Teach me something that I don't know!" I was excited to know everything and in response I was asked, "What do you want to know?" But...I didn't know. That's why I wanted to...so as I grew I was shunned for the constant hand raising and observatory gazing. I wanted to know, but knowing was wrong. If I wanted to know, I had to understand. That's what I was trying to do, but the other kids said to know something was bad. I didn't want to be bad. So I didn't know and that's why I didn't ask.  So how could I ever have known not to listen to people like them?
   As I grew I was shunned for not knowing. I didn't know the simple things, but I looked so smart and shy. They caved in over asking for answers, while my mind was up in the sky. My friends were too busy with AP and Honors to the point they could barely stop to say hi. I asked for help and I got some, but I got shocked eyes, and confused teachers wondering why.
  "Yeah" I thought "their right" it's simple stuff, If they could then I could with will on my side, but I was younger, and I didn't know. I floated away and came back by the end, with one year to spare, I can't revive myself again. I have a 2.2 on 4.0 scale, and I wanted to go a good university. If only I knew, then I'd be going to places like Yale.