I like to play the fool sometimes.
I know that may sound wrong, but at least its true.
its like I know what you do when you’re not around, but I’m not worried about that cause when you are around... its like magic.

I feel some type of way when you look me in my eyes, but I look away, cause you caught me by surprise. Then I smile and you smile and laughs and blushes follow, and I think to myself, “I hope its just like this tomorrow”. But I keep looking away cause I don’t want you to know, how much I truly care and how much I dont show. Cause when you look me in my eyes, I just know you can see through me, and read every thought and judge every scrutiny. I heard eyes are like windows, so I keep my shutters closed. To never be opened, less within be exposed.

And then you touch me..

Oh, when you touch me, my senses ignite. every taste, sight, smell, touch, sound is sampled, seen, felt, smelled, and heard. My heart goes into overdrive and the tingling tries to override my body, but I won’t let it. So I pretend that it doesn’t affect me.

Cause its like, if you knew. if you only knew.
If you knew how I thought and how I felt, would you think and feel the same?
Or are you already there and my pride won’t let me show truth.

But you can’t be..

Cause when I’m not with you, I see you making someone else smile like I do. and I wonder “Does she really know you?” cause I sure do and to be completely honest, theres nothing in the world that can stop me from loving you. and I hope and pray that one day you could love me too.

So again, I say.
I like to play the fool sometimes

What did I do to deserve this?
Was I not a good friend?
For you to demolish everything that was built?
For you to leave me in the end?
What was really the problem?
Was my personality too strong?
Should I have been a little softer?
Should I have known what was wrong?
Why didn't you let me know?
Was a warning too much?
Would it have hindered your intentions?
Would it have hardened your touch?
When will this end?
Is this a temporary disconnect?
Or is this a permanent separation?
A time to sit back and reflect?
Do you think this is best?
Would you prefer this or the latter?
Sometimes you have to let go of people right?
To get to the ones that really matter.

I'm piecing a puzzle, but i cant seem to finish it.
I mean, its finished, but its not;
its all there, yet something's missing;
like, the correct complete puzzle, but somehow the pieces don't fit.

So I fix it,
at least I think I do.
Rearrange some, replace some;
finished? No, not quite.
Now that I look at it, its worse...
Can I fix this? Of course I can.

So I do.
This time its perfect.
All the pieces fit, its wonderful, finally finished!
but of course I'm wrong, looks can be deceiving.
What appears to be a finished, perfect, model of a puzzle,
is in reality a forced fit.
Simply gold plated, or cubic zirconia if you will.

Maybe I can't fix this.

The cup is empty, so i fill it;
to the brim, to the top, on the verge of overflow;
As full as possible, yet still room for more;
almost too much, yet never enough;
slightly running over, but containing it all simultaneously.
I just keep pouring. It just keeps filling.
A never ending, never subsiding task.

Its the light at the end of the tunnel,
the weight off of my shoulders,
it says what couldn't be spoken.
Its the opening of a cage,
the releasing of a thought,
the pattern of silence is broken.

Its a peep into the mind
of an introspective, outspoken
teen who just likes to write.
Its the insight into a language,
quite abstract, just unnatural,
from the usual verses that fly by night.

Its the opening of doors,
the realization of life,
a whirlwind of opportunity.
Expressing the unexpressed,
revealing the hidden,
high above scrutiny.

Poetry is saying what cannot be said,
yet speaking anyway.
Writing words to change the world,
because letters are life upon a page.

What do you see when you see me?
Race?
Dress?
****** expression?
Or just a person?

What do you hear when you hear me?
Enunciation?
Word choice and placement?
Voice Pitch?
Or does it just go in one ear and out the other?

You only see what I show you.
What you don't see, is the churning of my mind. Constantly thinking, pondering, just trying to slightly fathom this conundrum we call life. You don't see me struggling to gain constant understanding, while my knowledge is constantly expanding, and my inner constantly flying and landing, but my outer is just standing still, like feet caught in wet concrete.

You don't see the daily processing of people, places, things. Like are they the superficial type? Thinking the physical is the best that life brings? Or are they the intellectual type? Figuring out why things are the way they are, and doing their best to make a change because in contrast to popular opinion, sometimes, freedom doesn't always ring.

You only hear what I say.
I know that statement might sound stupid, but it means so much. Like duh, you only hear what I say, but I want you to feel it. You have to get beneath the words. Dig deeper than its literal surface layer meaning, until you get to the bedrock of truth and discovery. Then and only then are you capable of recovery and possibly creating the eighth wonder of the world solely from shrubbery. You don't hear the pain behind the syllables. The valleys between the pinnacles, the undercovers and subliminals. You hear me, but you don't feel me. You see me but **** sure can't read me.

Sometimes you just have to look a little harder and listen a little closer.