I'm falling down, like these leaves
On the ground
Where I belong.

Silence envelopes my mind,
As you look into my eyes
And I feel nothing but ecstacy.
However it's moments like now,
When you don't come around,
And I question myself more than ever.

Do you think about me as the leaves start to fall?
About how I love this season,
And how I love them all.
Do you think about that?

Do you think about how I find all life lovely?
And how I never let him touch me,
Like that?
Like you did.

Do you think about how you let me in?
How someone broke your heart,
And you're too afraid to admit it?
Do you understand I'd never bring myself to do that?

So let this silence rip me apart.
Let it speak the words who may never be said.
Let some sort of fire start.
Let it catch flame violently in your heart.
Let it envelope your mind,
Just as your eyes captured mine.
Do you ever think about that?
Do you ever think about me like that?

We spend our entire lives trying to find ourselves.
We already know ourselves, though.
We live with ourselves each and every day,
So how would we not know our identity?
Our journey in life should not be wasted trying to uncover hidden parts of your mind.
In fact, you should take what you're certain of and enhance it in any way possible.
Find what makes you happy, and become passionate about it.
Find your passions.
I am passionate about my life.
I know who I am.
However,
I have yet to find the one factor that gets me up each morning.
I've decided that if I were to die soon,
I wouldn't want to not know what hit me.
I'd rather die slowly and painfully,
So I can feel my last bit of sensation before all control is lost.
I want to feel each part of my body shutting down, and I want to feel comforted by it.
I want to look up at the light and tell it that I'm ready.
I'd rather that, than feel nothing at all.
Because how can you die with passion if you die afraid?

We are all just boats in this vast sea of confusion
Trying to find a shore but the map won't tell us where to go
And our compasses seemed to have broke
And now we are lost out to sea
Will we ever make it back
Or will we have to become comfortable with uncertainty?

Look into my eyes and tell me it's alright.
Hold me by my heart and tell me I'm alive.
I don't know who you are,
And you don't know me,
But I think about you and that time we saw all there was to see.
I'm sick of the weather and I'm sick of these people.
I'm sick of pretending I don't care when I don't see you.
Take me by the hand and guide me to the light,
Or push me on the bed and say goodnight.

It looks like we must say goodbye to the restless nights and the rebellion I grew so fond of.
I must gain a sense of composure and come to grips with what's ahead, I guess.
It's hard to move on after all that has happened.
It's hard to move on, at all.
So Summer, do you think of me when the nights turn cold and your brain wonders into the dark places of your mind?
Or am I tucked away somewhere far, never to come back around until next year?
Because I think about you all of the time.
About your warm embrace,
Your bright eyes,
And most importantly your smile.
But I smell change in the air, now,
And there's no reversing time.
I can sense you trying to stay.
You even cried today.
But Summer, it's time to move on.
So let's pack up our things,
Say our goodbyes,
And keep our memories on a shelf somewhere.
Let's let them collect dust,
Let our bicycles rust,
And pick up the pieces again
On a cold evening
When I miss your smell
Will you remember me?

And I need your lips right now as much as I need something in my blood.
I drown my pain with temporary fixes,
But maybe your arms are what I need to fix this.
I'm not sure what's wrong with me,
I am losing sight of reality more and more,
As each day progresses
The older I get,
The greater my stress is.
I'm not sure who I am,
Or what I'm supposed to be,
But if I'm next to you,
I feel like me.

I am trapped under layers of skin and bones.
I was brought into this world without my control.
And now I'm here, beating myself up about every little thing.
Trying to do wrong when right is screaming in the back of my mind.
I'm lost.
The world surrounds me and I feel like I don't belong anymore.
Maybe I never did.

The sun casts light through my windows, making little shapes on my floor.
I stare at them and wonder if I'll ever be fascinated with anything else again.
Stress pools down on me, and I feel damp and uncomfortable
Knowing reality will soon hit me like a bus as soon as I sit up.
You left last night.

It's so easy to remember in times you will forget.
I'll surely forget our tears and forget our mutual fears and all of our regrets.
I'll forget about you at times and you'll forget about me,
But maybe we'll be happy.

Run and catch your train,
It's leaving without me.
I never thought the day would come
When reality hits,
And we all grow up.

Love is a beautiful thing.
Love is compassionate, love is forgiving,
Love is unpredictable.
Then again, so is pain.
Pain is harsh, pain is cruel,
Pain is unpredictable.
Pain and love go hand and hand,
But love is deceiving.
Love comes in masked as a lovely odor.
It smells like a cool breeze sometimes,
At other times cheap candles and rose petals,
And at other times asphalt.
Love, however, leaves just as soon as it comes.
Love will knock on your door, and you will embrace it will arms wide open.
You don't know why you do, but you do.
Love nurtures you, and comforts you,
And makes you feel special.
But love is selfish.
Love will leave.
And when love leaves pain will come up right behind you,
Pick you up off the ground,
Clean up your mess,
Help you to your bed,
And let you cry.
Pain doesn't embrace you.
Pain surely does not love you.
But pain will listen to you.
And once pain slowly makes its way towards your door,
On a warm sunny day,
You won't even notice it's departure.
You'll get out of bed,
Look outside,
And feel that cool breeze once again.

There is a flower inside of you.
There is a light inside of you.
There is nothing you can do
to stop it from shining through.
That one night,
I said it was alright,
So we dropped every concern on the ground.
I never gave you my heart, and I'm not sure if I have yours,
and if I do, do not worry.
I will water you and hold you and tell you it's alright.
I'll show you the ways, make us forget all the pain,
And remember that strange summer day
We drove to the sea.
So take my hand,
I'll show you the ways,
And we'll build a castle out in the forest.
You'll be okay,
And so will I.
Life is just funny, sometimes.
Let's just settle our roots,
Take off our shoes,
And remember that there's a flower inside of me, too.

This is the air that smells like the leaves that start to decay.
This is the crumbling of stones as the ocean crashes into them day after day.
This is the rush of the wind that messes up your hair.
This is the smile on your face as your friend speeds up around the curve of the road.
This is the laugh that escapes your lips as you feel yourself let go.
This is the pure joy and excitement of teenage rebellion.
This is the sad truth that hits you after a long day.
This is the dread and anxiety of coming back to reality.
This is the migraine you wake up to the next morning.
This is the squinting of your eyes as you attempt to stare at your phone in the middle of the night.
This is the worry that he might never call back.
This is the warmth of your family's love.
This is the comfort of knowing everything will be okay.
Enjoy the little things.

I can't keep sleeping in my sister's room hoping that you'll text me.
Part of me knows that you've completely left me.
I can't believe I let you slip away that night.
That night I just let you go,
Go drive away.

I had a dream we were scuba divers.
We floated through life like nothing could hurt us.
We're all running from something, I learned.

I had a dream we climbed mountains.
We sat at the top and looked at the world from above.
We laughed and choked and felt our lungs close.
We're all afraid of dying, I learned.

I had a dream we were astronauts.
We said our goodbyes and floated in the sky,
Looking down only to remember that time
We were scuba divers.
We're all afraid to let go, I learned.

I had a dream you left one day.
You packed your bags and I went to your house.
We hugged and promised to keep in touch
And that I'd visit at least once a month.

I had a dream we grew up.

You don't care about this as much as I want you to,
And I don't care about you as much as you want me to.
So, I think it'd be fair
If we both disappeared
And took some time to recollect.
And at the end of the day,
When all the hurt drifts away,
And the stars no longer weep for our kisses;
We'll end up okay,
And throw this all away,
And maybe meet again
Another warm summer day.

This is for every time I opened up and every time you didn't care
Every time I tried asking what was wrong and you pushed me away
Every time I fell down and you didn't pick me up
I had to do it on my own, does that make you sad at all?
Every time I supported you and barely supported me
Every time I never hit ignore and every time I stayed up staring at my phone waiting for you to text back
Every time I felt betrayed
Every time your eyes stared another way
Every time I felt neglected and ignored, and I did nothing to stop it
Every time I should have said something but I didn't
Every time I just waited and waited for you to say something meaningful
Every time you just didn't understand me
I tried making this work
But you chose to ignore me
Once again.
This is for the the time I chose to walk away.

The world is quiet first thing in the morning.
I feel content in those moments, I feel no anxiety.
The world breathes with us,
It inhales when we do, exhales for us when we don't,
But it does not stop when we do.
It never will.

We became familiar with this lifestyle, with these people, and these smells.
Someday they will leave us, and I can't quite grasp why they will.
We dream of places of beauty and desire,
At night when our sad eyes finally retire.

So let us be human and let us continue to breathe.
Because someday when our lungs decide to kick, we will probably miss the feeling.
The taste of fresh air lets me know you're still here
In my blood, in my lungs, and in my heart.

To become content with death is something I don't think we ever will be,
But until then I'm content with being me.
So let the wind come in through my window and
Knock down all the pictures and all my trinkets on the windowsill.  
Let the air inhale through my body and let the world exhale it out.

My heart is shattered and scattered across the floor.
Where were you to sweep up the dust;
To put me together and bring my heart back where it was?
Are you too lazy to care anymore?

If I was a flower I thought you were the bee;
Flying around and seeing all there was to see.
But, I know now that you were nothing but a pest,
Breaking off my petals and creating a mess.

If I was a cloud I thought you were the rain;
Pouring down to explore the world,
But always coming back again.
However this time I realize you stayed on the ground;
Never coming back and creating a drought.

My heart is shattered and scattered across the floor,
And you're not here to pick me up anymore.
So, I'll get down on my knees and collect all the pieces,
Remembering the day I realized I don't need this.

I love the nights when the sky melts in the sea and they appear to be one.
The boats in the harbor seem to be floating peacefully among the stars.
These are the moments I feel amazing.
These summer nights remind me of the world's natural beauty
And remind me to appreciate the little things
Like car rides and ice cream.

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.

Dear Mother I am sorry
For all that I've done.
I've used your love, your money, and your home
Without bothering to apologize or thank you for it all.
And now you are weeping and I feel ashamed
For using you and abusing you in the most horrible way.
You gave birth to my every existence
And to that, all your children are grateful.
I see you are aging but this cancer is a terrible thing,
It's even worse knowing that your children and I have caused it.
We're trying our hardest to take it all back,
Make you all better so we don't have to worry anymore,
And hopefully make your eyes shine brighter than they have before.
I hope that's a good enough apology for you.

Love, the rest of us

And these years turn into moments as I see my memories fade
Just as the smoke from my lips slowly wisps toward the ceiling;
Hazy, and seeming to slowly deteriorate as they venture forth.

As moments once seemed so vivid and real
I see them vanishing before my eyes in a cloud of bittersweet nostalgia
Never to return but only in those blissful moments when the smoke just barely releases from it's hold in my lungs.

And if I were to remember this moment as my fingers translate my thoughts into words,
Maybe I wouldn't feel so sad.

I have never met one so broken,
So raw,
So completely exposed.
But, maybe that is only because I have found my way beyond your steep walls.
I have somehow dug under, or floated over, one method or the other,
And found myself here staring at someone I have never seen before.
This girl was important and she seemed very sure,
But something in her eyes told me otherwise.
So I stared and I cared and pretended to listen as she told me the truth from start to end.
And at the end of her story, I found that misery was not only found in her eyes,
But that her eyes were mine and I was seeing myself
For the first time.

I long for the heat and the rain and the green
Of the leaves as they blow in an August breeze;
With that smell of fires, and propane, and smoke, and the ocean
And the excitement of children when the fireworks light the sky.

I crave the affection of a carefree attitude,
The utter perfection of love and appreciation.
I want to listen to the sound of the days passing by
And hear my life be completed by each passing moment.

I want to lay in the grass and notice the sky,
Not for the color but for it's incredible height.
I wish I could forever remain in the clouds,
But I will surely shoot back down once September comes around.

Loves sees no boundaries,
Love sees no limits,
So why is it that I feel my heart quit?
Every so often, I feel so alone,
And I feel myself close,
And become a body
That no one can hold.

I am sick of myself and all of my problems.
I am sick of my lack of ambition.
I am sick of my overwhelming need to do the wrong thing,
And the lack of the need to do what's right.
I am sick of sitting here and writing these stories,
About a life that has grown so boring.
I am sick of the weather and how it changes.
And I am sick of my desperation;
However,
I enjoy the smell of spring and the smile on certain people's faces,
And I guess that's enough for me.

Humans are strong
But the bonds that bind us together are weak;
Deceiving,
Like aluminum,
Appearing to be strong
But easily breakable if force is applied.

I sit and wonder
Why these bonds slowly deteriorate
And why memories
Are hazy and confusing;
As if these moments never happened.

Why is it that losing something
Is the main cause of sadness?
Why is that the world keeps moving
When I am stopped in motion,
Wondering why people keep passing by
Without bothering to see if I'm alright
Or to ask how my day is going

I treat it like weather:
There is nothing I can do to stop the rain from coming,
And I can avoid it as much as I want to,
But if I ever want to go places,
I must endure the conditions and
Fight through,
And hope the sun will come out eventually.

You can drive right into town,
Or swim into the city;
Jump right on my back,
And admire all the buildings.
You can appreciate life with just the touch of your finger
Only to find that your true home
Is buried six feet under.

And the memories continue to fade,
As I look through your pictures and wonder what I was doing to myself last year at this time.
I don't think I was in a good place.
Because heartbreak defines you, in someway, shape, or form.
And I didn't take it too well, I think.

But looking back, I do not feel sadness, as I should.
I don't feel anything at all.

And I would be lying if I said I don't think about you from time to time
And the days that your heart was mostly devoted to mine.
But the steps that we took so far and far away,
Off to some unknown world where we no longer communicate.

And I wonder what you're thinking, and at times if it's about me.
And I wonder if I was everything I was supposed to be.
Not that it matters, because it doesn't.
For my heart belongs to him, now,
And I feel forever blissful because of that.

So if our lives were just fables scrawled down onto a notebook,
With ink blots and splotches and imperfections that life itself contains,
Would my name come across in some chapter or some place?
Or am I a memory that just continues to fade?

Don't be concerned with creating a legacy.
Don't be sad when your name is forgotten, just as peace and the motivation to do great has long past in the world.
Along with the striving taste to go against society, and be your own.
For nothing is no longer present in this world.
Nothing is permanent,
Nothing matters.
So if you live your life only trying to get your name in a history book,
good for you.
But it is not about your name, or your legacy on the world that matters.
For it is the impact on yourself that makes the difference.
Because you could strive to accomplish a task that changes the universe,
But inside you are crippled with misery.
However, you may choose to live that way,
And believe that somehow living a miserable life but leaving a mark is what the purpose of your being was.
But for me,
I would rather be happy, and allow everyone around to me to know that I was happy with myself when I perished.
And that, I feel,
Would make all the difference.

What it's like
To be every type of person,
In every single town,
In every single county,
In every single state,
In every single region,
In every single country,
On every single continent,
On every single planet,
In every single solar system,
In every single galaxy,
In every single universe.
I want to know what it's like to be you.

People are changing,
And aging.
The weather is, too.
So is the sky, and the earth, and the science that revolves around us
Spitting theories and numbers and equations and pictures at us to remind us how small we are.
The forests keep diminishing and the skies keep polluting and the ocean continues to grow
As the ice keeps melting and the animals keep perishing as our minds continue to grow.
And I look around at this small town and think about its origins and the moments it has seen,
And I wonder why it is some things stay the same.

Every step you take someone else has taken at one point in time or another.
And if it's the first, someone else will step in your footsteps and not give a **** about who has stepped there before.

Someone told me once that you die twice:
Once when your heart stops beating,
And again when your name is said for the last time.

So here I am, standing before the world on a stage for everyone to see;
Pouring my heart out to a group of people who I may never meet.
If every word and every thought I produce means something to you,
Just remember,
It means something completely different to me.

The rain has been coming down for days,
And I feel safe.
I am becoming my own, and beginning to accept the unknown that captivates my simple mind.
I over analyze and drive myself insane, but I have some deep routed feeling that through my hardships,
I will be okay.
As if this purge was some sort of release of fear,
Because a burden has been relseased off my crooked shoulders.
I feel genuine happiness,  knowing you care.
That's all I ever wanted, I guess

The sky is pastel, and makes me feel happy,
Although my day is turning more and more upside down as the day progresses.
I am so unaware of who I am and what contains me,
Yet I am so sure that I am who I am supposed to be.
Adolescence is a dumb thing, because it causes me to lose sight of things I was often so sure of.
I hold my future in an unsure hand, trembling as I begin to feel my fingers wrap around it,
Not yet obtaining it, but most definitely acknowledging it's existence.
I cannot see it, for I am standing in the road with a blindfold on,
Looking like a complete and udder idiot, holding out a shaking hand as I struggle to grasp onto some undefined object that controls my every thought.
I feel embarrassed, and I feel dumb,
But people do not notice me.
They are doing the same as me.
Everyone is standing out on this road, with a blindfold on, as they attempt to grasp onto this foreign object that shapes their every motive.
Some people grasp this object fully, and accept it for whatever texture it obtains.
Others, like me, are failing to fully wrap their fingers around this object.
I am blind, you see, and I can't tell if this object, my future, is large, or so small that I can barely see it.
I cannot tell if there is a car speeding up behind me, rushing through stop signs and yields and red lights,
I am blind.
I can't tell if this car will decide to hit me or not.
I cannot tell if this object will control me for the rest of my life.
I cannot tell if someday I will overcome my fear of the object, and drop it on the floor like I should.
But for now, I stand here, holding it out in front of me, letting it control my every move like I always have.
And I sit here and I realize why it is that I write about myself more than I write about anyone else.

There is something wrong with my brain.
I constantly tell myself to do the right thing,
But my ideas are irrational and my words are not words;
They are pictures carved out from memories my mind has somehow stolen.
There are spiders, and creatures, and storms crashing through my mind,
And there is no moon in my head that can control this tide.
So I sit here and watch myself rot and go insane,
As I constantly wonder what's wrong with my brain.

I want to live my life in every perspective.
I want to feel the emotions and the pain of every single person.
I want to enjoy the world through my eyes shining through the light of another person.
I want to love this life unconditionally.
I want to see the world.
I want to feel it all.
I want to feel at all.
I want to feel.

There is a haunting contentment with the idea that Death will greet us someday.

The unbreakable have limits of wearing and tearing,
As does my heart.
At times I wonder about it's durability, and question if my idea of it is wrong.
For I used to think it was as fragile as fine china, gathering dust in an antique fair somewhere in the South.
But now I realize it is as cold and dense as the winter ground.
This small heart of mine has seen the rain, it has seen the darker days.
It has been swallowed and chewed, and tasted and tortured, time after time after time.
But the times it is appreciated brings it to its fullest potential.
I believe now that it is its happiest.

I look at the world from above and wonder why I am no longer scared.
Is it perhaps because I have found my meaning, or is it because my heart has learned to love?

And I feel it now,
The rushing guilt, the sickening doubt,
The feelings I never wished to feel again.
And words are sprouting, growing, and shouting, from their captivity inside my head.
I'm not sure what I'm trying to say, I'm not sure where I'm going,
I know that surely I am growing,
I know that rhyming is nothing
But a pattern.

So if everyday was a challenge,
And every breath was a risk,
Why does humanity continue to live?
As these thoughts absorb you, and these questions envelope you,
Into some foreign core.
I will continue to nourish some unknown object,
The unknowing of what is to come.

And if I were to personify every action and every word,
Would I drive myself insane?
Because bringing feelings and emotions into your eyes is surely something I cannot seem to obtain.

Do you notice the drifting?
Do you recognize the time?
Do you often wonder about the first time you saw me?
Because I think about you often, and the small things.
Like the feeling you get when you see the rain.

There are millions to billions of emotions associated with every word of this sentence.
Am I the one to judge how you feel,
When I can't even uncover the meaning behind my words?

Emotion provokes me,
Passion demotivates me,
And love desensitizes me.
But today, I let myself break down.
I let the tears break free from their restraints, and flow freely, and they ran
Down my cheeks, fast and urgent, like they desperately needed to meet my chin for the first time.
And I realize how fragile it is, how fragile I am, how sad life really is.
I feel
Real.
And this isn't something I've felt in a while.
Why is it that the thought of losing something so precious to me, makes me feel alive?
Why is it that I believe I need you, now?
The words keep running out my mouth, as I spatter these thoughts out loud, as my tears follow in unison.
Flowing,
Like energy,
Like the blood in my feeble veins,
Like the students passing through halls,
Like cars on the freeway,
Like life.
I am flowing, pushing effortlessly through some invisible current that I have been fighting against my whole life.
My tears, however, have reminded me that I am still moving.
No matter how much I have tried to halt, no matter how many times I have attempted to stop,
My tears have reminded me.
I am flowing,
I am breaking against my restraints, and meeting life face on for the first time in my life.
My anxiety has clouded me from reality for too long.
So thank you, Sadness,
If that is your name.
You saved me from going insane, tonight.

If I knew that may have been the last time I saw you,
I would have held my eyes on you for so much longer.
I would have appreciated the way you walk, and the way your eyes shimmer even when the sun is hiding behind the clouds.
If I knew that may have been the last time I held you,
I would have held you so much tighter, and never would have let go.
Not even to look up and stare at your face.
If I knew that may have been the last time I was with you,
I would have said everything.
I love you.

I have so many passions,
But I contain no passion to pursue them.