Her hands clinged around the pencil,
as if it were the last thing she'd touch.

Her head cleared in spite of the noise,
thinking only of the boy she loved.

As the noise began to rise,
her head began to grow.
And the gardens she used to plant,
rapidly began to glow

Imagination, such a scary place to hide,
in a room of introverts, secrets, and kids who want to die.

A crowded room, a pencil and wind that struck so coldly,
how could one ever be around people yet still feel so lonely?

We traveled around the north.
Pretty faces,
and silly phrases
passing through our day.

The look on your face when the sun hit the back of the mountain,
made my entire mind collapse.
A figment of my imagination, yet so stunning.
The sound of your voice shattered my heart,
and my lips felt cold at the thought that we'd be apart.

My mind was not thinking, and for that I held dispite.
How could my love be here, but still be a lie?
We were downtown, somewhere.
and you asked me my favorite part.
But I could only remember the smell of your hair.