You're a dream
That crawled into my bed
And never came true

You're a laugh
          About to burst into tears

What you are
          Is vague
                And beautiful

I love reading your books
but cannot anymore.
I burst into tears
each time I open that door,
the one that leads into
the library of your heart.

Here's to the writers—

You have the power to paint words
Into beautiful art—
To be able to touch a soul—
To touch one's heart

You can make the stormy sky blue—
Stop the waves from crashing to the shore
You can make all the withered flowers bloom—
Turn winter into summer, a glimpse of gold

You can make someone's dark day colorful—
Gather hope to put in between your words
Make them feel that they are understood—
That they aren't alone in this cruel world

You can mend someone's broken heart—
Put love in between your lines
Let them know that they are enough—
That being hurt is just a part of life

Yes—
We can make a whole new perspective—
We can create a world of our own
And no, we don't speak only for ourselves—
But also for all the lost souls

—Thalia Bautista; Just keep writing

I am hoping for oblivion,
The feeling of no control,
The moment before you wake
in a dream about
Falling.
From a cliff face
Or sky high building
I jump
I soar
I plummet.
I join the ground
My soul dissolves.

I am new.

I keep my heart
in a box
Lined in lead
triple locked

Can't be too careful
you know these days
With Kryptonite
and what girls say

My heart's been hurt
so many times
I had the lead
velvet lined

To give it somewhere
soft to lay
Until it feels
it feels okay

My heart you see
can indeed
Be the most
peculiar thing

Softened in
its tender parts
Hardened from
all the hurt

Hence the box
triple locked
Lined in lead
for this poor heart