Let the pulse of your unrelenting heart fill Heaven's concert hall as it beats the tune of courageous joy against an anxious world

I see that you've made peace with the chaos of your mind. You scrawl out your passions like a genius pours out their mind onto a napkin. It is chaos. It is no longer about being understandable or approachable but about letting your mind breathe fresh air outside of judgement.

Joy written over your face like graffiti on a brick wall. Sinks into the lines and grooves. Corrosive joy. Inescapable and forever tattooed in loving memory of your survival.

The voice given to a story
Perhaps a narration of a memory
Speaking as an art form
Giving a face to the soul
with nothing except sounds and imagery

Painting a scene with only enunciation
The tongue making a perfect expression
Carving a timeless masterpiece
In the minds eye
Incarnate imagination

Roses are red
And a little bit brown
Their silk edges curl
Falling soft to the ground

Roses are red
The sky has turned gray
I'm just here, naming colors
Who likes flowers anyway

Violets are purple
Roses are red
Just petals on gravestones
Where loved ones lay, dead

supposedly a time of rest
but instead
I am greeted by a dark room
with the flickering of bluish light
coming from somewhere overhead
a figure of grey stands tilted
trying to meet my gaze
with empty sockets where eyes should be
I must not look at it
it claws at the ribbons of skin that hang over its cheeks
ripping at it with ragged nails and fingers of exposed bones
it's face twists in agony
I cannot hear a scream
there is only pain
it did not say a word
it paints a picture of suffering and anguish
it speaks no lie of impending doom
and has no message of reckoning to deliver
it simply stands in silent torture
I no longer fear this nightmare
now I feel pity for it
because if I am afraid I can wake up in the darkness
feel sweat dry on my neck
wipe tears from my face
and grip my soaking pillow while the image fades
but when I slip into the depths of slumber again
it still remains
it has no escape
so it haunts me to pass the time
in its never ending unrest

A future generation
Left out in the cold
Waiting on salvation
Watch their coming hell unfold

Looking out from hopelessness
At the next great depression
Setting out for the impossible
Here comes my generation

smiling frauds
happy lies
thinking they're gods

just moving jaws

small, white deceptions
no consequences
picture perfect perceptions

writing our laws

suits and ties
beneath lying lips and blind eyes
covering the dirt to disguise
freedom denied
to those they dehumanize

My mother said not to talk to strangers.

So I stopped looking in the mirror

and tried to forget the counterfeit face,

the echoed voice of the impersonator.

I'm sorry I spend so much time talking about how lost I am
It has cost me my friends and their respect

I'm sorry that my life is changing too fast for me to process
I won't come out of this with my mind intact

I apologize for the way I grow distant in a conversation,
in the buzz around boyfriends, grades, and prom

I can't say sorry enough for the times I explode for no reason
and then go suddenly quiet and terrifyingly calm

I have no disorder or chemical imbalance
its not a physiological decay or disease
Its a girl questioning why she exists
and trying to figure out what life means

I'm sorry that I'm not always there for you when you need me
I can understand why you left me behind
Just, please
keep the crazy, depressed, confused girl in the back of your mind

Please don't forget that I was once happy
Please remember that I had a personality prone to joy
Tell me about the girl that you used to know years ago
the unshakable faith she had before it was stripped down, destroyed

I wouldn't un- ask these questions
I couldn't forget them if I tried
But I wish that the naive little girl
had kept some of that innocence inside

I talk a lot about reflections
about how I feel when I'm in my head, apart
I hope that you can fogive me
and my broken but healing heart

Take me to a place
where the sun erupts over the ocean
and there is light from beyond the horizon.

We can find our own piece of heaven.
Where beauty is more than a single eye's vision,
and pain is more than my head's cruel decision.

I'm not running away but I need a fresh start,
to wake up everyday without this weight on my heart.

I want to see the sky shine bright,
to live with my heart open wide,
to believe that mistakes are just path stones
to a future I decide.

I can close my eyes and dream about golden streets
Winged choirs of angels
Existing to love and praise
Seeing majesty outside the reach of imagination

Those same eyes open in the morning.
They are set upon a world containing dark, twisted minds
Controlling unthinkably vicious hands
Hordes of people, tormentors and saints alike

That glimpse returns me to the reality of earth.
Back to another day.
I hate that my expectation of forever is damaged by the world each morning.
The same world I'm being saved from.

That concept of glory isn't a memory.
I've never seen anything like it.
I can't remember Heaven.
It hasn't happened, yet.

I close my eyes
I see a man at my door bowing his head
With heavy heart, he tells me "They're dead"
I open my eyes
He is gone, nothing remains
Except fear, a pillow drenched in tear stains

I close my eyes
I stand in the Sistine
Crying, sobbing- saying "You should be with me"
I open my eyes
So convinced I had lost you
Scared and alone, I don't know what I'd do

I close my eyes
Afraid of a nightmare
That vision of pain seems to reappear
I open my eyes
Before I can scream
How does this sense of dread come from a dream

I don't want to close my eyes...

You would think, by how worn out the bottoms of my shoes are, that I've traveled the whole world, seen every inch of this planet.
But the truth is, no matter where my feet take me, the most adventurous, vast, inspiring places are either the stories from the lips of other people, or
the imaginings of my own bored mind.
The places I go to in my head could fill novels.
Some days the destinations are as detailed and exciting as something of Tolkien's caliber,
while on others, my mind works like something out of Dr. Seuss- full of tongue twisting imagery and nonsensical animations.

Have you ever drawn a smiling face on a shower door or a foggy window?
Most people would see it as a free moment of happiness getting the chance to express itself, and then take a smile of their own as they walk away.

Not me.
At least, not often.
On days when the sky goes from gray to black, darker than hell- letting out its aggression with a downpour,
Or when a hot shower is about standing under the current, letting the mistakes and memories of the day flow down the drain.
More about a second of peace than actually washing the dirt off.

Those moments are when I carve the thin lips of a crooked smile, watching small droplets of water gather at the bottom of two lines I pictured as eyes.
I see the beads stream down like tears when the weight gets to be too much.
And the face keeps a smile until the condensation of it all lets the image of brief optimism destroy itself.
The remains of free happiness trickling down the wall.

Find yourself
Don't push off believing
Don't rationalize away
The love your "loved ones" aren't receiving

Give happiness a place to live
Let joy exist
Say you gave the venture of life
Half a chance at least

Explore all possibilities
Challenge love and what it means
And in this life I hope you see
No matter how meaningless
You think it to be
Know that the same life you doubt
Means everything to me

I look around and all I see
Is a war of pageantry and vanity
Everyone striving to define "pretty"

Waking up to put on a show
Painting on their faces before they go
Start their day with lies, fake smiles, glitter and bows

They have no direction
besides following their own reflections
Spreading their disease of insecurity
and superiority complex infections

Today I saw the ocean
Saw the horizon on the sea
Looked out across the water
And felt the misting breeze

Held onto a decaying fence
Let go of my worries
Standing on the sea cliff's edge
Remembering days like these

The days of sand and childhood
Waves crashing powerful and strong
Sounding the ocean's chorus as
The sea gulls sang along

February twenty ninth
Only once in four years
If only days this wonderful
Were not so few and rare

I've heard it said
that "no man is an island",
but with the trenches he's dug
getting wider and deeper everyday
it sure seems like an ocean is coming between us.

Call me naive
Call me entitled
Call me a useless and self centered child

Say that I'm worthless
That I look like a *****
Call me a *****, hurt me like no one before

Tell me I'm ******* up
That I'm unwanted trash
Throw your best punch, metaphorical belt for a lash

Show me your dark side
Give me your worst
Disrespect me like you must think I deserve

I hear all this poison
Seeping in through my ears
It feeds my self loathing and my nightmarish fears

You see the dark circles
Stuck just under my eyes
From long restless nights and stifling cries

Yet, I'm still standing
Not sure how or why
But if I came this far, there's a plan for my life

DELETED

Where do I go?
I have the world unfolding in front of me,
filled with questions and information,
waiting for this decision to be made.
It has me turned inside out.
The thought of picking a direction for the rest of my life,
or worse,
having no say in the matter,
makes me shake.
I tremble quietly as my mind worries with irrational fear
of every eye on Earth watching me make this choice.
But I just keep repeating my own little prayer-  
One step at a time.
A step forward from here.

From here.
From here.

Where exactly is "Here"

I just want intangible things,
like independence, nights filled with sweet dreams,
real true love from a real live being
and fearless faith in things unseen