I don't understand why
You all look up to me
You say I'm all these things
That I'm so obviously not

Your saying that I'm perfect
I'm flawless, without fault
But have you looked at me
Underneath my surface

You see beauty, perfection
I see scars and mistakes
You see happiness, light
I see anger and hate

I don't think you realize
I'm not the angel you see
I'm not a role model
I shouldn't be put on a throne

I'll never be perfect
I'll never be free
I'm locked inside self hate
I've thrown away the key

So I still don't understand
What you see in me
Why do you look up to
A person I'm obviously not

I really don't get what you see

I'm not asking
        for life to be easy.
I'm not asking
        for everything to always
        go my way.
It'd just be nice
if I could just have
one opportunity
at escaping the craziness
inside my head
and my surroundings.

I know I've made mistakes.
          But I never had the
          intentions
          to do anything wrong.

When you ask of me, why poetry
I'm not sure you understand
That it's the center of my universe
The very depth of who I am

The molecules in the air I breath
Oxygen pulsing through the veins
The storm brewing beneath the surface
The pounding of the rain

It's the timeless anticipation
Of the thought that's yet to come
The tearing open of life's seam
The beating of the drum

The first peak of the desert flower
When it feels the gentle touch of spring
The smile in the eyes of a child
And all the joy it brings

The in and out of the tide
In the pulling of the waves
When you ask of me, why poetry
What more is there to say

Distance looms
In close proximity
A thousand miles away
Close enough to touch
Together alone
Alone Together
No words
Silence is deafening
A smile and a nod
Polite discomfort
Alone together
Together alone

The thing wanted most,
Stands 20ft away in the middle of the frozen lake.
Yet I'll still run for it in hope the ice won't crack.
Am I inclined on this path?
The dime within the rugged exterior
Is too intriguing to resist.
The ice is thinning, every second is too late.
Unless I proceed slowly and stop at regular intervals.
It will stand stationary.

It's so hard trying to improve myself
when there's voices of
those who told me that I can't.

It's so hard trying to prove
people wrong when their words
are imprinted into my brain.

And then the day came,
when the risk
to remain tight
in a bud
was more painful
than the risk
it took
to Blossom.