Chaos seeps through my hollow door
Making my soul beg and plea for no more
This chaos hits me right in the chest
The slumbers me into a final rest

I open my eyes and look down
And I see my open-mouthed frown
My scarlet eyes are lifeless and dead
Guess I no longer have a road ahead

I will not know the wonders of love
I'll have no worries as I look above
For my heart is as pure as white
So there shouldn't be much for me to fight

The entrance to those clouds showed its way
Yet sadly there was darkness hiding it away
Dark figure danced in silhouette
No faces nor figures to be met

Only shadows and chaos dancing here
I prayed I wasn't the song they hear
For I wished for the stairs to reappear
As I ran and ran from the silhouettes in fear

My body left lifeless as my soul fled
My soul cried out as my body bled
I was alone with chance to get home
Then a voice reached out and asked me to atone.

- E.A.F

Statistics say
I am smarter than 95% of the people I meet
People say
Intelligence is overrated
Statistics say
I was born into a better situation than 98% of the people I meet
People say
It's not where you start it's where you finish
Statistics say
I will live longer than 94% of the people I meet
People say
Life is fragile
Statistics say
I won't fail
People say
I might

One day I will be a famous poet
for now I write stillborn poems
that die after a line
so I have to delete them
my professor tells me unfinished thoughts
are just as intriguing as finished ones
but they will not make me famous
so I do not need them

One day I will be a famous poet
I will write a one thousand page poem
so long that no one will ever finish it
but they will think everyone has finished it
so one will ask
"Have you read that one thousand page poem?"
and the other will answer
"Yes I have and it was great!"
and then the two will agree
and continue to speak of its greatness
even though neither has read the poem
because if they had made it past page 193
they would have seen that the remaining pages
are just the word "famous" in different fonts
strewn across the page like dandelions
and then I will be famous

One day I will be a famous poet
I will write a poem with no words
with just a title that says "Think"
and people will read it
and they will think
and they will write their own poems
each different and precise
unique in its own way
and they will credit me when they do so
they will say "you made us think"
"you are a genius"
"A great"
and all I would have done
is write one word
a word we all say
and then I will be famous

One day I will be a famous poet
I will write a poem with no ending
And people will proceed to write their own
Because I

She wanted to be the girl to make something
Beautiful
Out of that snarled blackness that she had always existed in
To make a light to guide
Into a future of freedom, normal
She hoped they might open their eyes, see the light,
Follow
But there they stayed in their comfort of nothingness, a hopeless future and those after to live in the same
That was okay
That girl will still shine

I try
to get rid
Of my
I
Open My
third Eye
try to Fly

once there is no Try
nor - I
will Fly

pull up
cool
crisp
leaf blade fan

hold
hot air balloon
rising red sea
salty, hot

let out
gentle sun
toes in sand
erased white board

You are the bags under my eyes
The bruises on my arms
And the cuts on my leg.

You are hour 50 of sleepless torture
8 cups of coffee a day
And another regretted bite.

You are the "I'm fine"
The little fibs that leave my lips
As part of my daily routine.

You are the tornado of thoughts
The flood of blood
And my beautiful nightmare.

This is who you are to me.