me
and
the
shadow
of
the
friend
I
once
had

Something in my body stirs
As I toss and turn in my bed.
I dream of a castle with my own quarters
And a fair prince who's stuck in my head.

The castle is high above the clouds
In skies so pleasantly blue.
With no toil or care or angry crowds,
And I dream that you'll be there too.

But the dream is fleeting, it leaves me alone
Until once again in those skies I may roam.

I want to hide away and cry
But it seems my eyes have both run dry

A bright spot in this haze of black
Would give me nothing but a heart attack

A heart attack might wake me up
But I'd just drink from your poisoned cup

Then I could go back to sleep
And be within the angels' keep

"The angels' keep, or the demons'?" you say
It matters not to me either way

As long as I don't have to wake
And I shall be all yours, for the take

Dreams.
Follow your dreams.
Chase your dream to the ends of the earth.
But chase with caution.
Dreams have a knack for getting in the way.
Of real life.
Of the responsibilities that real life holds.
But don't be too cautious.
For dreams chased are the way to happiness.
And without that,
What else do we have to live for?

My heart
And soul
Are sure

But my brain
And my stomach
Tell me otherwise

I've fallen
Not bold enough
To believe it
And too afraid
To call it love

And yet
Somehow I know
Some part of me insists
That I should
Let myself feel
And let myself fall

No longer in hiding
No longer in pain
No longer hating
The way I am
Because he is there
Regardless

Fallen?
Yes.
Surely?
Yes.
Sensible?
Perhaps not

But to hell
With sensibility
Why bother
When you've
Fallen?

I love fireworks.
They embody the human spirit.
I love them because everyone finds them beautiful.
They're not looked down upon; they're only looked up to.
And though each and every one of them is different, even in the slightest of ways, it doesn't matter.
Their differences don't make them inferior; the make them stand out.
And my favorite part, is this:

Once a firework shoots into the sky, it can't be stopped.
Nothing
Can
Bring
It
Back
Down.
Even though the color fades eventually, that firework has left its mark in the sky forever.
It's eternal.
It never dies.
And even if  you can't see it, **it's still there.

Full of hate
Full of anger
Full of sadness
Full of broken pieces
Of broken parts
Of broken hearts

An ended life
A lifeless body
A bodiless soul

Hanging in the air
Lingering
Hunting
Haunting

Full of blackness
Full of blankness
Full of emptiness

Empty
Yet
Full

Full of confusion
Full of shame
Full of blame
Full of torture
Full of hurt

Full of regret
Full of fallenness
Full of worry
Full of worthlessness
Full of exhaustion

Full in death

Nothing but a hopeless
Romantic
Riveter of dreams and of schemes
Music-loving
Constantly-acting
Matter-of-facting
Unlikely
Poet.

Love.
What is it?
Is it a fancy,
Or a feeling?
Is it a thought,
Or an emotion?
Is it selfish,
Or selfless?
Is it always riciprocated,
Or is it always painful?
Is it ever sunshine,
Or is it always fog?
Is it warm,
Or is it cold?
Is it sweet,
Or is it bitter?
Is it even worthwhile in the end?

But,
What
Do
We
Have
Without
It?

Lonliness.
Hate.
Solidari­ty.
Inequality.
Spite.
War.
Terrorism.
Peacelessness.
Restlessness.
******.
Suicide.
Me­ntal hospitals.
Drugs.
Alcholhol.
Addictions.
Deleteriousness.

What do we have without love?
A b s o l u t e l y
N o t h i n g
G o o d
O r
H a p p y.

I ask you again-
What
Is
L o v e ?
What our world needs now...
More
Than
A n y t h i n g
Else.

We must love.

What is fear?
Is true love real?
How many times will I let a person hurt me before I give up on them?
Why are you so stupid?!
Why did you love him, he never loved you!
You are a fool.
An
Out-and-out,
Good-for-nothing
Rogue of a fool.
"Take back your life!" says the angel on my right shoulder.
"Face it, you're far too weak," says the devil on the left.
"A fat, ugly, wretched bit of garbage; a heavy burden on the world around you."
"No!" the angel cries. "You are strong! Beautiful, compassionate!"
I wish to listen to the angel.
But the figure on the left
Is
The
One
Who
Always
Wins.

You say you don't want to be called beautiful,
But look at you.
You are.

Maybe not in a conventional way.
You're not a twig.
Your face is full.
Your cheeks are rosy.
Your hair is like platinum.
Your grey eyes twinkle even in the darkness.

Really,
There's nothing ordinary about you.
But ordinary isn't, and never has been beautiful.
And it never will be.

But there is no denying that you are beautiful.
The glow of your smile.
The power of your words.
Your presence on stage.
Your feet as they glide across the floor, even when you're not dancing.

So I will dare to call you beautiful.
Because if you of all people are not beautiful,
Then I will never truly know what beauty is.

Walking into a train station
is like walking through a wrinkle in time.

Somehow the gravity and the energy of the hustle and bustle of the metropolis around you
finds its center. Not so slowly,
it begins to stir.

People are going places, moving too quickly onward to whatever bigger and better place it is they're getting to to appreciate the world in which they already exist.
They walk at two paces: either it's too slowly for anyone else to follow, or too fast to follow behind anyone else in the natural ebb and flow of humanity.
The former remain oblivious.
The latter brush by, passing onto you the rushing that has set into their souls.

You don't know much about a traveling life when you're not boarding a train.
All you know is the information of places and arrival times provided to you in neon lights,
and whatever it is that overcomes your body and being as you see people rush through the gate to their designated platforms.
Some feel an unceasing anxiety.
Others feel an ineffable and unquenchable longing to be transported into the world across the gates.

For the first time in your life,
you realize how truly insignificant you are. For the first time in your life,
you define translucence. For the first time in your life,
you are in a place full of people who do not know you, would not miss you, and, if you made a split-second decision to buy a ticket to the place farthest from home, would not question you if they even noticed in the first place. For the first time in your life,
you are really and truly free;
freer than you've ever been before.

Sometimes I just want to
Start
Smoking
And
Stop
Eating.

have  you ever been afraid to go to sleep?
with nightmares so realistic you wake up with a start.
with  a shock.
subconsciously sitting up,
taking in your surroundings to make sure it was, in fact,
just a nightmare.
just a dream.

but then they haunt  you.
for days on end, it's all your mind can focus on:
whether or not you'll be able to sleep tonight.

you know in your mind
the monsters
the demons
the ghosts
the robbers
the murderers
the rapists
are only figments of an on-edge imagination.
but the knots in your stomach tell you something entirely different.
and so the question lingers still...

will I sleep tonight?

another day of exhaustion
after another sleepless night
not knowing where to run
and too mightless to fight.

the world around me seems blacker
than it did yesterday
but with these storms in my mind, thunder, lightning,
the dark is here to stay.

no more reason to live,
no reason to go on
I sit here all alone
waiting for the dawn

when the sun rises,
and when the moon fades
I'll still be here alone
being stabbed with thorns and blades.

once upon a time, life was hopeful,
and I had reason to push through
but now I'm here, all alone,
and all I have is you.

but will you ever realize?
will you ever even care?
will you ever admit it's love?
Would you even dare?

it's true, my answer would be no,
for I am slight and weak.
I would merely zip my mouth
like a bird who'd lost its beak.

but you are strong, you are wise,
you are brilliant and bold.
you- you are my one true love;
my dearest treasured gold

it's true- I love you, I will not lie,
please believe and know.
and if, by chance, you feel the same,
please just tell me so...