I long to write beautiful poetry
To have my blood be the ink of an incredible mush of phrases and clauses and sentences
On a torn piece of paper
Always torn
But perhaps maybe that's where the sticky sweet red stains come from; a tear
A tear in a broken mind
Or maybe a broken heart

But oh, how I long to write beautiful poetry

What will it take to find the sunshine again?
Blow the snowy clouds away with howling winds of my heart
None of my words make sense anymore
A jumble of simple and complex sentences maybe
A phrase
Or maybe I am just putting sophisticated sounding words into something that sounds like a poem
But poetry is so bold, and beautiful
And I cannot seem to make it either
So where do I go from here? What do I put next?
Tell a long story of tragedy and suffering
Or maybe of happiness and smiles
Of heartbreak
Or possible love
But none could possibly match up to the flawless tale of lizzie and darcy
No one could match what Sylvia Plath wrote of her fears and sadnesses
But how could one possibly find themselves in a world filled with similarities and indifference?
How must one carry on with such anguish                                                        
I­ am but a simple soul,                          
simply breathing to live                  
Eating to survive                              
And writing to understand why

We had the potential to become something incredible
Incredible in the heart's own mind,
The heart's mind knows what it wants
And the heart's mind yearns for one thing
For comfort
For love
Surrounding itself with solitude,
A stable ship
An unshakable breath
An unmistakable stare into a storming sea of contentious emotions
Purify the storm of regret and sorrow
Replace it with the eyes of my almost lover
That I once knew, because
Almost lovers always do
Pour me a mug of something sweet
Something purely made by you
And together, we will face fear
Of creepy crawlers, and shadows that go bump in the night
But please don't leave me,
To face unrealistic fairy tales alone
But "goodnight babe,
Sleep tight"
Just as you would say
Behind locked invisible doors, our souls, and hearts collide
Digging trenches around where we lay
Our hearts beat melodies, telling us to carry on,
But only some nights we cannot
So we lay, and whisper to each other words we wish we could say louder
But our hearts beat louder
than words ever could
So we stay where we are,
running in place
Never
getting closer to
each other
But our hearts always beat in unison

What is perfection?
What defines being perfect?
It eats a massive hole inside of me
A super massive black hole
So I try to fill the void
with meaningless
unrealistic words
Told by the famous, the rich,
Of unrealistic lives
Unrealistic perfect lives
Where one goes through trial, and tribulation
But in the end, everything is perfect
Perfect human in a perfect world with a perfect life and perfect clothes and a perfect unflawed masterpiece of perfection
Perfect perfect perfect
But everyone falls short of the idealistic life
that everyone so desperately wants
Or what everyone expects
Don't have time for this
Or this
Or for you
Or for thinking,
Breathing
Because only a couple numbers and letters determine the rest of your life
Or so they think
You will have perfect test scores
Perfect grades
Perfect GPA
And if something happens, it'll turn out perfect anyways
But perfection is only in the mind
So tick tock
Tick
Tock
The bell rings at 2:15
And gives you only a short time
To find perfection
And live perfectly