My heart was once a butterfly flying youthfully through the air.
It did not care, it had no scars, it had no burdens, it had no strain.
One day this butterfly became curious, and danced around a black flower.
This flower was tempting, it's name was Love.
Love was poisonous.
Love sickened my butterfly, and it almost perished.
Eventually, the butterfly woke up. It picked itself up, told itself it was fine, and ventured forth, only to be knocked down again.
And again.
And again.
Because this Love was everywhere, and the butterfly no longer knew how to ignore it.
So it built a fort as tall as the sky, and hid behind it for a long time.

One day the flower flew over the wall, and landed beside the butterfly.
The butterfly couldn't quite tell if it was Love or not, but it felt content.

That was the day I met you.

The moon comes out eventually, as it's rival forces her out.
She sits there while the night surrounds her, making her cold and anxious.
"The Earth is a cruel place," A distance star whispers as she suddenly appears in the night sky.
The moon looks at Earth, her distant cousin and shrugs.
"She seems alright to me." Replies the moon.
"What do you mean?" The star asks.
The moon sighs and responds, "The Earth isn't the cruel one, Star. It's the people she made. Those people, her children, are destroying her from the inside out. They aren't even aware of what they're doing."
The star looks at the Earth and then back at the moon. The moon struggles to remain composed as she sees her cousin get eaten alive in the nightlife.
"Maybe you should do something." Says the star.
The moon sighs and replies, "There's nothing I can do, it's too late."

Take my hand and take me away.
Show me thing the things I never will truly see.
I want to see the way you blink, the way you breathe, and the way you fix your hair after the wind gently messes with it.
As my presence gently messes with your mind.
Sometimes I wonder if passion is real,
Or if we're all pretending to be obsessed with activities that don't even matter.
Maybe in the end we all die miserable.
I want to know where the sun is.
I want to know how you see me.
I wish to see the way the stars glisten in the fields in the middle of the country.
I just want to know if the sun sets the same way that it does here.
You have no ocean;
How do you breathe?

The distance is fading
Along with my vision
And youth.
I remember the moments
When I was with
You.
I feel scared
Getting older
And knowing
Each day
Brings me closer
To you.
I'm not sure if you are real
Or if you are a comfort
Or if you've been tricking me this whole time.
I want to know my purpose
And my meaning.
I want to know yours, too.
I want this all to make sense.
Who are you?

I will never be able to be there for you,
And that is the single most tragic thing
I will ever know.

Why is there a difference between different and unique?
Because both sound pretty strange to me.
If I was called either one, or both, I think I would be equally as insulted.

Why are there different seasons which each one containing a different mood?
Did anyone ask Autumn is she minded being unacknowledged? And what about Winter, Winter is often neglected too.

What is appreciation without passion?
What is passion without love?
What is love without kindness?
What is kindness without appreciation?

So what happened to harmony with every living being?
Because if you ask me, it seems to have disappeared.
Humans are not much different than a tree,
Other than the fact we can see.

But trees can see far more than we,
For they feel every single thing.
Humans have a tendency of erasing the feelings and emotions that they dislike,
But without those feelings, how can we appreciate?

Maybe these people who are outcasts labeled "different" and "unique", whatever the difference in them may be,
Maybe they know something you don't.
Maybe they know more about the trees.

My lungs ache
For the comforting embrace of
Fresh air, and relief,
And slumber.
But it is far too late,
I am trapped under water,
And I cannot see,
Nor hear,
Nor breathe,
Nor speak.
But I can surely taste;
So, I try and ******* blood and grow familiar of
It's humanly reminder that I'm still alive.
These days have been tearing me to shreds
And I no longer have a voice to shout out for help.