Here's to, more laughs.
More stressing out.
More tears.
Less sleep.
More pieces of crumbled up paper of poems no one will ever see.
More confusion,
More things I will never see.

And....

Here's to, all the things I'm leaving back in 2016.
All the sleepless nights.
Tears.
Over reacting
All the happy times.

There are pieces of me I will leave.
But like a flower. I will grow. I will learn more.
Do things I never would have dreamed of.

Here's to, another chapter. Of a novel that will never be seen other than my eyes.

Why do I choose to write when I'm sad?
What about when I'm over the moon happy?
When I'm crying on the floor nothing but sobs reach my mouth.
I reach for a pen
But,
When I'm happy.
I inhale it.
Believing not another day will be this joyous

Here  I am again. Sorrow in my heart.
Nothing but sadness wiped on my courages face.
Every time I'm sad it's a different kind of pain.
But the pen in my hand always stays.

I use to see lines in waves, but now, they are straight.

The sun effortlessly seeped through the tree as I read poetry.

I went to be alone. Also, the silence was nice. Then the twigs snapped and deer gathered around the woods.

A cooling feeling rushed throughout my body.
This, was normal for them.
The silence, the green. The peacefulness.

You see, my life was catastrophic.
The vocal waves were a constant thing in my life. Like sadness.

One day I would be dear. Happy, and calm.

The next, I would be Nemo finding my way back to where I belong.

With one word, you can ruin someone's day.

Their dreams, hopes, and faith.

It's takes one person with an abundance of aspiration to light up a sea.

Also, one person to crash into the light house.

It's dark.      Cold even.

I wonder why we hurt the ones we love? We comprehend that they will always come back. They love us?

One word.
It could end a life.
Make someone cry until the ocean see's nothing more then dead fish flopping on the ground.
Tear someone's hurt with out even knowing.

But, we do it anyways.
We fight with our mouths as swords. The truth is. The win isn't gratitude enough of the pain you cause the person with the dagger in their heart.

Just a thought in your head?
Oh You forgot? Let me try again.

The sand on the beach? The waves just ran over me.

But that plastic bag got stuck on your shoe. You threw it away. That's what your use to.

The shapes of the clouds that no one else see's. it's the birds they are fixated on.
You didn't mean anything to the ones beneath.

You thought if you cause havoc
They would see your light.

They were blind.

You still needed to fight.

The wind on the trees didn't faze you tonight.

You were the breeze, but no one seemed to notice you breathed.

He always said I was a mystery. Like reading a murderous book.

Who is the killer?

Well, it was him. He tore my heart apart with out even knowing he held it in his hands.

I bet he didn't know he was my world. That when he laughed I laughed harder, when he was sad he was a tornado and I was the city.

I held onto his hand like it was hope. The tears in his eyes were just a facade. He was a comedian I was the joke.

But, I still wobble behind you. Hoping you look back.

But, you never did.

Looking in the mirror the bones and flesh are not the ones I remember. These bones are not my own.

They are dressed in silk and Demise. While the ones I'm looking for are pretty and pink with flowers not too far away.  

What have I become? I don't even remember my name.

Every word I say is foreign to my mouth.
I pray  the real me comes out. Maybe she is hiding. In a place that is more beautiful then she has ever seen.
Or maybe she is trapped.
Or maybe she no longer exists.