Hot chocolate
on a cold night
full moon in the night sky
and friends all around

don't you think it's vile that your parents would rather turn you into an ugly person rather than tell you you're beautiful and embrace it
they're so afraid to lose you from others' claws that they keep you hidden from your natural charms
they strip it away and lock it in a safe and terrible place underground where the roaches roam and where the slugs go to die
but you are not naive and you are special
so you run away every night and use audiotapes to distract their ears from your faint footsteps down to the treasure chest
and you go down
        d
            o
               w
                   n
where all the refinement and grace is hidden
the irony strikes you and you are saddened at how those who bore you to this planet were so barbarous and frightened
true beauty does lie beneath a person's soul and even more so
it lies under the depths of your home where your parents live so afraid and tired of the world outside
and when you reach the very deep part of the dark soil and you can feel it warm around your skin--the glow of artistry flowing around the earth
you gasp and stare and sigh and daydream and cry
you could have been an angel but you're still stuck underground and you are still grotesque as ever
but none of that gets you down because you're here now and you're ready to take back what's yours
you are what you are and not twenty feet of dirt can remove that from you
so you run away again with the treasure in hand and you run to your old tree house where you become a changed one
the darkened trees light up
the sour mist in the air lifts up in a sweet summer haze
the leaves and bushes grow fuller and green
the sun comes out along with a handful of stars and you're startled at the beauty of it
but even more of the beauty you now possess--the beauty you always possessed
your parents run out of the delicate home that is now parched and blackened
they scream in agony and curse out the heavens but the gods don't listen to them and they shiver at your feet
you do not choose to forgive them but you choose to free them
you free them of their minds and guilty hearts
you free them of their mischief and lying tongues
they become full grown sunflowers under a heavy oak tree and they will remind you forever of their passionate yet depraved vision
for you were depraved but no more and you are powerful yet powerless under the murmurings of your heart
you are now what keeps the balance everywhere and at all costs
it's what they kept from you for so long but what they did not figure out long before was that
you
were
born
for
this
and you keep it close and embrace it

whoever said
depression is strictly sadness
is a fool
because here i sit
empty
alone
and drowning in my mind
sometimes the thoughts swimming around my every action
my every word
are scarier than the true horrors
of life itself

you are not very fond
of my numerous speeches
about how I wake up
and gaze at you in your sleep
about me pouring my
whole being to you
while you fiddled with my hair
how you listened
how you stared
but I will let you know
that I am in love with
the rare times
you truly speak to me
on a monday dawn
when your words
are as timed
as the beating
in my chest.
                          *p.t.