life used to be so simple
wake up in the morning, have some cereal
walk to school all excited
you got to see your friends after all
recess was such a blessing
20 minutes of fresh air, playing tag or kickball
girls had cooties so you pretended you were too cool to hangout with them
and they giggled and pointed and teased you
but that meant they liked you, and it made you smile
after school you'd play in the yard
leaping from surface to surface, cause the ground was lava, and you couldn't fall
joy was so easy to come by
hardship was a runny nose, or wheat bread for your lunch
and the cuts on your arms were from crawling in a rose bush
chasing butterflies with a mindless passion
dinner was a time for family
you could talk about your day, spend time with dad
and after, maybe everyone would watch tv together
laughing and smiling
life was so simple back then
why'd it have to change?

now you don't wake up in the mornings
because you couldn't sleep last night
the demons didn't let you
breakfast?
you haven't had that in years; you never have the time
you still walk to school, but now its a slow, weary trudge
because you are dreading the hours you spend in a perfect hell
anxiety ridden, stress filled, insult filled torture
recess doesn't exist anymore
because when you are older, they decide you don't need it
now the guys you used to hangout with think they are too cool for you
they are off chasing girls, because that is what they;re supposed to do
and the girls? well, they still call you names
but somehow, "******" doesn't make you smile quite like "butthead" did
after school you trudge home and stare at a screen
killing time, trying to find anything to distract yourself
so you don't have to consider reality
because nowadays, the ground really is like lava
and if you walk in it wrong, all those ugly problems will rear their heads
being sick is normal; you have worse things to deal with
because dad sleeps on the couch, and mom's smiles never reach her eyes
and the cuts on your arms?
you tell people it was some rose bushes you stumbled in walking home
but in all honestly, you put them their yourself in the depths of the night
after another dinner you skipped, because being fat is a sin
and family time is gone, you spend the night alone
brooding and sobbing
a hopeless wreck, unable to find the joy you used to have
life used to be so simple
I guess all good things had to end

Snow fell heavier then ever this winter.
I must have fallen too, 
deep into the frigid blue of your eyes.
Snow melted and flooded both your shore and mine.
I wondered if you would notice me sinking,
or catch me if I fell into your arms. 
You caught me in your bedsheets instead,
granting temporary relief from waters roaring.
The sun chased away the moon,
I awoke on the bottom of the ocean. 
Coral scratched knees,
salt stained skin, 
you were no where in sight.
I've never been much of a swimmer,
but for you I held my breath.
Hoping maybe you'd hold yours too.
You never did,
maybe you're scared of drowning.
I found my way to the surface.
I created this flood from draught,
half to see if I could survive the waves,
half to quench my thirst and wondering,
if you cared at all to save me.
Snow melted,
Water evaporated,
But how will I wash off the salt,
you left on my skin?

feet on the desk,
pen on the paper,
deep in thought?
sincerity tapers.
quick to falter,
ignore deceit,
back between foreign sheets.

wondering;
was it wine or blood that filled her head,
when burgundy stained the paper red?
image fading,
done persuading,
*did you kiss the wrong boy again?

You grabbed me by the arm
Pulled me down to the bed
Pressing your lips fiercely against mind
Blocking any words from escaping
You had no desire to know
Any whom had been you before

Your head rests on my chest
Curled up against me
The perfect kind of warmth
I ask you for a name
You let out a laugh
And said I needn't worry about that

We fall asleep in each other's arms
Peace at last
The perfect end to a wild night
And when I awake, you are gone
Nothing remains but the scratches on my back
And the haunting smell of roses, lingering in my bed

Listen.
You can almost hear the raindrops
whisper to one another.
Listen.
You can hear the rhythm of your footsteps
Muffled by the puddles on the ground.
You say you love the rain, yet you complain
Every time it reaches out to touch your face.
It is as if each raindrop is a space between
One second and the next,
Seperating the past from the present.,
The present from the future,
And it is a cliche, but they say
That now is called the present because each second
Is a gift.
Wrapped up in paper they call clouds
And stolen the very instant it is unwrapped,
You always wonder
What you will open next.
And in a clap of thunder you realize
It is not the rain you hate, but the future.
Theres always somewhere to go,
Someone to see, some reason
‘I cant go there with my hair like that’
Some reason to say I'm sorry,
I'm sorry,
I'm sorry.

Listen.
The rain never apologizes ,
And that's what makes it beautiful.
Somehow it reflects a time when man was primal,
Before he gave himself the right to fear,
And it was simple,
And it was beautiful.

Listen.
The rain whispers *I love you,
And I am not sorry.