Run, Run, Run, Faster Than The Wind
Chase Me, Find Me, Catch Me, Fix Me From Within

one upon a time, I knew who I was
my favorite color, my favorite word
I could say things unblinkingly
without conforming to the herd
but now, my means for survival
through each stressful day
is to not divulge information
in any single way
people who think they know me
merely have only met my shell
I look happy, gay, and free
when inside, I'm not actually well
I wish for closeness
I wish for them to know
the inner side of myself
the part I can't seem to show
at the same time, I'm running
what this closeness is, I couldn't say
if not heart, then it's always distance
that stops me from feeling this way
no one runs after me
no one cares to try
none have ever been able
to catch me as I run by

Run, Run, Run, Faster than The Wind
Chase Me, Find Me, Catch Me, Fix Me From Within

a beam of
      light   drifts
         down     from
            in  between  the
               leaves above. from
                  sky   to  ground  the
                     light  dances,   glancing
                        off    of    branches   as   it
                           travels.  fireflies  shimmer  in
                              th­e  spaces  not  alighted  by  the
                               ­  moonlight  coming  down  from  up
                               ­     above  in  the  sparkling  midnight  sky.
                  ­                     not harsh like the sky in the day time, instead
                                          soft and friendly, gently resting upon whatever it
                                             touches. a figure rests                  in  the  middle  of  a
                   ­                             field.    the                       ­                 moonlight  sees  and
                           ­                        gently                                                hugs   its   new  visitor
                                                    ­  as it                                                  rests   upon   the   ground.
as always, the ground below welcomes                                        its dear lifelong friend from the night sky.

Do you know what it takes to make you?
Do you understand what you’re made of?
How far you can go, how much you can love?
Could you explain yourself off of the cuff?
If you were a gem, what would you be in the rough?

Do you know what it takes to make you?
Could you understand even for a small while
what makes you laugh, and joke, and dance, and smile?
What drives you towards showing your own style?
Just what do you think makes you so worthwhile?

Do you know what it takes to make you?
How long does it take to make you upset?
To make you wither underneath of a threat?
To make you groan with utter regret?
What does it take to damage your silhouette?

Do you know what it takes to make you?
Can you comprehend just how far you could go
Before the world defeats you with one final throw?
What loss, what hurt, what pain could you know
Before you ended by one final blow?

One final blow that would do you in.
Even something so small, it feels like sin
To admit that something to small
Could ever harm someone at all.
Because that’s all it takes at the very end;
Even though strongest man will bend
If you hurt him down to his very core.
There just wont be a man there anymore.
Broken, shattered, bent, and left in pieces
So far done, they’re utterly speachless.
With nothing to say, do, hear, or feel
Every last person will kneel.
That is the nature of the world around:
There will always be a loser in the last round.

Do you know what it takes to make you?
Your bits and pieces, your very seams.
And just what it takes to pull out your screams.

Do you know what it takes to make you?
What it takes for you to feel no more?
How long death will stay on the other side of your door?

Do you know what it takes to make you?
Make, create, give, earn,
Love, live, laugh, learn,
Want, think, plan, yearn,
Break, bend, die, burn.

Do you know what it takes to break you?

As I Sit Under A Tree
I Wish Only To Be Me
Into My Book I Stare
And Read 'Bout A Demon's Lair

But Always My Mother Calls Me
Back Into Reality
And I Always Say To Her
"I Wish Only To Read A Bit Further!"

Still My Beautifully Wonderful
Books Are, Oh, So Loveable
And I Always Think
I Don't Have Blood... I HAVE INK

The sun peeks to say hello
As the nocturnal moon decides to hide
From it's opposing foe
Way on the other side.
Colors dance up high
While silhouettes of birds
Dance and play in the sky
More beautiful than words.
Morning has been a time of it's own
Sine the beginning of the world itself;
It's the greatest gift men have known
More magical than wizard, centaur or elf.
Morning is Morning, and nothing else.