Maybe if I keep writing
I'll find the words that will help me
complete myself.
And I wouldn't feel so broken anymore

The smell of newly fallen rain
overtook me as I  walked out the door.
I took in the sent of damp dirt drying in the rising sun.
The thought of being as free as the world around me mades me smile.
I took a deep breath
and decide today was going to be good.

Words couldn't express
Like a vanilla ice cream
Floating up above
Like an angel
Humming and singing together

Sleeps evaporate
Dreams melt
Marvelously exemplary
The gazing tantalizing sky

The wind of the air that never ends
It chills me that i couldn't breathe
Procreation at least beneath
By the largest motion on
And so maximized the feeling inside

Love and inhale
Love and exhale
The power of fate
The power of life
Cycling all over again

Why am I here?
What is there to complete?
Is there some kind of mission?
Must I compete?

What is my life meant to compromise of?
This can't be it.
Born empty handed.
Naked - No start-up kit.

Find yourself they say.
Where do I begin?
A life full of tempters,
Though no tolerance for sin.

"Come one, Come all!" they shout,
Promising excitement.
A step into a shade of grey,
An unknown world of enticement.

A life full of tempters,
Though no room for sin.
Find yourself they say.
**Where do I begin?

I was in the wrong place, at the wrong time.
That's what they said.

It got the cat-
         It got me--
*Curiosity

the father.
who buys beer, over the needed milk,
the one who screams and yells of ******* hating life so much,
the father who talks and wishes of suicide,
the father who says he loves you but regrets having children in all,
the father who explains to the daughter that indeed, she will never be the favorite.
that she will never be good enough in either of their eyes,
that she is as good as ****.
The mother.
who is jealous of her daughter.
the one who, can't bare to look at her daughter.
the mother who screams, and threats, and pushes the daughter just down so much farther down.
into the suffocating water,
that drowns out her every wail for help.
the one who has no idea of the scars that bare her daughters body.
The mother who loves the others, oh so much more, the ones who have yet to finally disappoint her the way the daughter had.
the Brothers.
the sister.
all mixed up in pain, confusion, and love.
The family portrait is all smiles,
where everyone is in the pleading hands of suicide, the all to addicting poison of their choice, and all covering it up.
all in one house.
posing for the camera, and looking as if they are happy.
because that is what they were trained to do.