And here I am
trying not to get bad again
I don't want to go back into that downward spiral
that you made me dive into just three months ago
I allowed it to happen
I probably even made it worse
by my own thoughts

I don't want to be sad all the time again
I don't want to give you the power
to destroy me again

when you're knocked down
you're supposed to pick yourself up
and I did that last time
I picked up the broken pieces
and gave them to you to reassemble
even though you were the one that broke me

and it's one little thing that sets me off
one little thing
that might not even be a thing
and it's stupid
it's so stupid
that I'm even worrying about this
because I was supposed to learn
I am supposed to be better this time

I will not allow you to destroy me again
I will not allow my feelings to destroy me again
I will not allow my mind to destroy me again
I will not allow myself to destroy me again

I am stronger than I think
I do not let my over-thinking destroy my happiness
because even if life doesn't go how I want it to
there is still sunshine

and one person
is not going to depict how happy I am
or how happy my life should be
because there is so much to be happy about
even if I don't see it at first

Are the bluebells really a delightful hue
when they habitat railway banks
They are wild and not so rare
like the country we reside in.
We are a barren land
once proud but
with all wealth stripped away
Our Jurassic coastline erodes
likewise a once bedrock of national pride.
Our spirits wane,
we are too self conscious to crowd
amongst our own.
We have been too disorientated
to uphold our truisms

Write a song and give it my name.
Write a poem, give it my beauty.

Oh beautiful flower, full of thorns, you so smells good in spring.

Write a song and sing it..
Scream it until you lose the voice.

Soft rose, you are so pretty, but you pricked me the fingers.

Writes this poem, shout it, whisper it.
Writte it, erase it, do it all over again.

So soft and fragile but so dangerous, you touched me and got pricked.

Write me a song and gives it my name.
Not love song honey, write a song which looks like me.

The pretty flower pricked you and now you want to burn her for that.
Boy, looks at what you made.
You want to burn the most beautiful thing that you saw by pride to have found stronger than you.
**Sadness.

Regret.

Nibbles away at the tiny corners of the conscious mind.

Preoccupying ones thoughts with remorse and somewhat desire.

Remorse over what is done
and what is to be done.

A desire
to do it again.

Regret.

Not a feeling rather a trait.
Its characteristic
embodied within the human

Its here, and its here to stay.

Tears come from the heart
Though through our eyes flow
To sadness impart
So others can know....