She has a heavy heart. A messy soul.
A reckless mind, that lacks self control.
She wore nothing but shades of grey.
Her finger tips blue, from writing all of the words she couldn’t say.
She’s always been a silent fighter,
with demons on the tip of her tongue.
Taking away her breaths,
right from her lungs.
She won’t take any judgements,
on the bonds she needs to untie.
She won’t listen to those telling her how to suffer,
and how to cry.
Ignoring the murmurs of others she looks up at the sky,
as tears start to roll down her cheeks,
that tell a thousand stories she’s too afraid to speak.
Her heart cries for help,
but her face is all smiles.
Her emotions unsteady,
hiding she’s been crestfallen for a while.
Something she’s learning is that she needs to undress.
Starting with her buttons of worry and stress.
Undoing them one by one,
brick by brick.
She knows it’ll be hard,
for she’s built them up thick.
She was once asked why she sometimes wears many layers on warm sunny days.
She said because they made her feel grounded,
but maybe it would be better to just FlOaT away.
Giving in she wandered around searching for something that will finally set her free.
Lift her off the ground,
high above the trees.
She is like a kite with it’s string still spooled tight.
Closing her eyes she drops all of her burdens mid flight.
After realizing how unhappy she has been,
she choses to live as light as air,
never again to lose sight from there.

On Tuesday,
I drank tea with a skeleton
named Eileen.
Her fingers were long,
and her lips were drawn
like a frown, unable to move.
It was a sad sight to see,
and it convinced me to be happy,
now matter the weather,
and she said --

If I were to die,
which I will, one day,
I would like to pass in a forest,
for surely it is curious
for a life to end
where so many
begin.

So we laid her body in a bed of daisies
and painted her eyelids with raspberry tears
and coated her lips with the Queen's honey
and covered her naked corps with ferns
so that she finally experienced the embrace of a Mother.
Cause she said --

If I were to die,
which I will, one day,
I would like to pass in a forest,
for surely it is curious
for a life to end
where so many
begin.

There's something missing in this heap of hearts.
i'd happily admit he'd fall apart
without his special taste of what was to come
after every horror night he'd slept,
beauty truthful, I wish i'd seen
his glory days, our glory days
we breathe as one, and there's music to come -
but an unstrung guitar would yearn for it.
Something like diamonds or vague metaphors
like years of friends and friendly enemies that struck a bone like a tattooed hand a chord
something like that which fills the soul of rueful smiles and before they left -
he knew that was where he took his breath.
One day I'll come to understand why deprivation is my vice and virtue
and why good things come to those who forget -
but for now its grief for ghosts and phantom hands left unheld
that keeps us both waking during the night.

"Good morning"
Is typically my first lie of the day

Then after that comes "I love you too, mom"
"I'm fine" is a fairly common one
Normally somewhere I say
"I'm not hungry" or
"It's just a scratch"

"I don't need people I'm fine on my own"

Sometimes saying "how are you?"
Is a lie because I don't really care
Unless your a friend in which case I do.

"I pledge allegiance to the flag..."
A lie I say every school day.
  
And I tend to end my day with
"Good night, sleep well"

"Sometimes to stay alive you gotta **** your mind."
         -twenty one pilots

Please don't tell me I'm
Everything
That I deserve happiness because
That's all I've given
You

You tell me you are
Nothing
And if everything in my
Heart is every bit of
You

Then I am nothing too.

If you love a flower, don't pick it up.
Because if you do it dies
and ceases to be what you love.
So if you love a flower, let it be
Love is not about possession...
Love is about appreciation....