My Darkest Hour*

My darkest hour never ends
The hands refuse to meet
Surrounded by silent shadows
Lurking in the street

The twisted, winding maze
Is shrouded in a haze  
Cannot escape my head
Thoughts alone cannot be said

The Sun will surely rise
Six marks dark's demise
I cannot take anymore lies
I surely hope he isn't late

My friends have left me lonely
They’ve stranded me at sea
I’m drifting in the current
Hopeless as could be

I’m out of flares and no one cares
They wouldn’t come even if they saw
Jones has won as he has all
And I’ve been crushed between his jaws

Sticks and stones may break my bones,
But words shatter my soul
Like a thin sheet of glass
In a fragile windowpane
Faced against the icy, piercing,
Wailing winter winds.

Fractures and bruises heal,
Barely leaving a mark,
But a shattered soul-
It remembers each and every
Crack, break, chip,
Often leaving pieces behind that
The jealous, thieving wind stole in hopes
Of making parts of the beautiful glass its own.

Fear not! For the very thing that destroyed
Can also mend the glass,
Molding, sealing the mess back together
Until a new, stronger, more beautiful
Picture forms to illustrate the story
Of the stained glass soul.

I'm tired of seeing books with pages left blank
I'm tired of seeing no dedication page giving thanks
Life is a story
Not something to give up on halfway through because the vocabulary gets too hard
I'm tired of seeing covers that are scarred
Because there are certain passages that should be starred
There are signs
Exclamation points and pauses in words on a page
Tired of parents being forced on a stage
To read the could've been story of a child who couldn't take it anymore
In this day and age
Every book should come to an end with no pages left to be filled
No blank white paper left at the end
Waiting for lines that will never be written in
Because nothing is sadder than
when a child's story ends with a period in place of where a semicolon could've been
Would've been
Should've been
But wasn't
Because nobody cared
Because this kid was scared
I'm tired of seeing hurt plastered on someone's cover
And the damage and look of distress goes unnoticed because no one has the time or ******* decency to take the book and read it for a little
Not one second to stop and patch up the fraying edges
This needs to stop here and now
Because I can't stand to see one more story end with a smoking gun
dangling body
With words spoken at a eulogy
I'm done watching lives
Turn into shorts stories
No more bodies burried in the dirt
Stop letting stories come to an end
When all that was needed to keep it going was a friend
But instead you're left staring
A blank page
A blinking curser
the lights of a hurse pull in
A young body
Withered and thin
Waiting for the after life to begin

Only a year ago, we were all just kids thinking we held forever at our fingertips.
Invincibility was upon us as we stepped on campus for the first time as students,
Beginning our journeys into the unknown realm of college.
Everything was new and exciting;
Classes, food, activities, clubs, schedules, people…
Remember how we didn’t want to go home?
The best place in the world to be, at the time, seemed like it was right there.
If we left for a second, we would miss the whole planet,
Be left out of the loop for an entire week.
High school seemed too close and too far,
And we were stuck in this limbo where we were not sure how to act.
Running around like tweens out past their curfew,
The upperclassmen were so cool, and calm, and collected…
We aspired to be like them one day,
Copying the way they blended into this campus with so many colors.
And slowly but surely, we have…
Without even realizing it, we have matured worlds, and
Realization has dropped itself into our hands where pixie dust sat before.
Isn’t it funny, now, watching the new group of freshmen repeat the cycle?
Looking back, I thought life was so easy.
The only cares I had in the world were attending class and finishing homework.
Making friends appeared to be simple; keeping them did, as well.
Things seemed to fall into place as if they knew where to be dropped.
Now, we make things happen for ourselves rather than sitting back and watching.
Instead of running aimlessly, we stride with a purpose.
For we know our niches and where we are needed most.
Our eyes sparkle even brighter, I believe,
Because we have found a place where we belong and want to be.
I am waiting now, looking at this group of new kids,
And wondering how long it will be before the change happens to them.
How long will it take for them to realize that home is not such a bad place to be?
As a matter of fact, as I sit here in the room I grew up in,
I feel nothing but nostalgia that makes me want to be nowhere but here.
Here, I have no worries, and I can reflect on this past year and how much I have grown.
Growth. Isn’t that something that we forget about?
Assessing how far we have come over the past twelve or so months?
Because I now see with open eyes, where before, I merely just *looked.