i wanted to think that life would be perfect
the farther i drifted away
but the moon always rises at sunset
and i could never get away

as long as the stars are out
reminding me of the days
i'll never be able to run
or take away the pain

i've always seen the clearest
when i'm lost in my dreams

I keep sleeping because
when I sleep I don't
get to think of you.

'What does a sculptor see in the rock?'
'None, dear child, none and nothing.'
'What does the tailor see in the frock?'
'Naught, dear child, naught and nothing.'

'Tell me, what does the musician see in his song?'
'Little, dear child, little and less.'
'What does a philosopher see in the wrong?'
'Too much, dear child, too much and distress.'

'But, what does a pilot see in the sky?'
'A bit, dear child, a bit and a little.'
'What does the poet see in my eye?'
'Something, dear child, something at least.'

'Daddy, what do you see in the smoke?'
'So much, dear child, much and more than you.'
'And what do you see when your voice shrinks to a choke?'
'Dear child, so much I cannot still scream.'

'I'll tell you what I see, and not for my youth
I see a statue, an elfin body, a melody and truth,
I see the clouds and the freedom to fly,
I see the hope and the faith in my eye.

In the smoke, Daddy, I see nothing but air,
In your choke I hear needless despair.
I grew up to love you, and love you I do
But I can never see things in the same way as you.'

The father, he blushed and spoke out so strong,
'Darling, I wished to be free,
But now I can see that without you I'm wrong
**Without you I cease to be me.'

And whoever thought it’d reach this point?

I am so empty.
I need someone to fill me up, this cavity in my chest.
Nothing I write makes sense,
Nothing I write is honest,
not even this,
why would it when I haven’t been able to feel
anything real in the past twelve months?

I used to be so emotional that I hated myself for it.
Feeling so much beauty for the world
that it felt like my chest would burst.
Having so much love to give that no one wanted to receive
that it felt like my heart would spill over.

And now nothing makes sense anymore.
I’ve stopped living in the grey areas of life,
I’ve been seeing things in black and white.
And everything I write or think is ****.
It’s not real, it’s not real and I
want to rip up this ****** poem
and scream my ******* head off until I can feel
something besides the crinkled edges of paper
on my palms.

I would rather be a little girl
with shards of glass living inside her
not being able to breathe without her ribs
feeling like they might shatter,
than be this zombie immune to pain
shuffling daily through life’s routines,
not caring for the homeless,
not caring for the senile,
not giving two ***** about the
who-gives-a-****-about-them-at-least-it’s-not-me
that were killed or are starving in wherever-*******-country
on the news last night.

I used to think apathy was the secret to life.
That it would be better to feel absolutely nothing
than have to live with the pain of feeling absolutely everything.
But I’d rather write something that nobody likes;
embarrassing cringe-worthy words full of promise that sound like
they were penned by an mentally unstable naive five year old,
than a viral masterpiece that sounds like it was written by
the next Sylvia Plath, devoid of meaning or feeling
besides writing for the sake of writing.

****.
****.
****. ******* ****.
Where has it all gone?

I pray not for me my friend, but for you
That in everything you try, you do the best you can do
And that may come far and close for few
Despite the outcome, to yourself stay true.


I pray not for the shore, but the sands
That whenever you try, they may not slip between your hands
And that you gather some from far and distant lands
Yet when it's all said and done, you've gathered all you can


I pray for the moon my friend, not the sun
For in life that when you try, it is never done
And victories may come whether lost or won,
But for you; a star in the sky: there is always one.

Late at night when I cannot sleep
All I think about is you and I weep
Why can't you be here with me
That's the way it ought to be
I wish I could see you one last time
I'd do anything to see your face right next to mine
But your in a place far away
And for eternity, there you'll stay
I hate the cancer for what it did
Stayed away from the doctors and hid
It was found but way too late
It had already decided your fate
It was a clear, sunny morning when I heard that you had died
I comforted my sister while she cried
I asked Dad if you were ever coming home
He was silent, and I knew it was a no
I felt tears streaming down my face
He said it's okay, she's in a better place
I know what he said is true
But I can't stop missing you

Like a ruse in a rose
And a bruise beneath clothes
                                                       (Of which I keep hidden)
You, too, are forbidden
For you perpetuate me
Towards wonder, sadly
It flees when you’re gone
Like the most glorious dawn
That can only be known
By birds who have flown
Too close to the sun