the homesick one looks up to ask
"please, when do we go back?
for tears will quickly do their task,
will carve another track"

the knowing one just turns and smiles,
explaining once again,
that back is so much more than miles,
that now has become then

the homesick one, though, doesn't hear
the answer, for the thousandth time,
she wants to turn a deafened ear
so may the truth well chime

the truth that home is far away
that there will be a thought of when,
until that longed-for summers day
when she is home again

that home forever grows
the knowing one reminds once more
as sure as anything she knows
it's right there in her core

yet homesick one still asks and calls
relentlessly for home
she feels imprisoned by the walls
she wishes she could roam

she begs and screams for unity
for just one little trace
of love, of that community
where she had found her place

the knowing ones exterior cracks
the smile cant further hold
the tears now finally run their tracks
and masks begin to fold

and suddenly they all burst out
my knowing, homesick tears
of longing and I almost shout
something to never reach their ears

I want to scream how this is wrong
that I feel empty without them
that where my love and joy will stem
is the home where I belong

I dont, of course, I never would
the knowing one reminds me soon
that home I know is just as good
and still I long for come next June

I’m noones best friend.

I know so many people that I dearly love and consider my friends,

but there’s too many of the ones I don’t want to loose yet don’t want to bother.

They all know me,but don’t know ME.



I feel like I’m trying to keep so many doors open that I can’t enter a single one.

Even if I do,will it be the right choice?

Is there a right choice?



This is all my fault,I lost the close ones myself.

I pushed them away or let them go.



And when I fall,I'll hit the ground

they’re too far away to catch me now

when,at night, the plants slowly breathe,
take every bit of my air

I think about it.

should I just leave?
would't it only be fair?

when at night the plants slowly breathe but I can't
a stone of doubt crushing my chest,
in my head I hear my brain rant:

"just leave,it's for the best"

when at night the plants slowly breathe,
sometimes I do too.
I don't yet want to leave
all it takes is a simple

"I care about you"

sitting in the corner of a ceiling,
a little space the only thing they're stealing,
with the world around them loud with riot,
all they want is peace and quiet.
In that, they're just like me.
please leave us be.

I’m so scared of change

because what if I act wrong,

make mistakes,you think I’m strange?

What if I’m not strong?



Everything is changing,

the ground is slipping away.

Life is rearranging,

things are moving that I thought would stay.



Please promise to stay with me,

but never let me hold yoou back.

Please promise to be who you’re meant to be,

don’t let me knock you of your track.



Everything is moving,

as I know it should.

It’s growing and improving,

the future’s not stone,it’s wood.

a doctor sees me,and they say,
well, you're broken in a different way!
your eyes,your bones,your back,your head
, I wonder,how are you not dead?

so I sit here, waiting,so much pain!,
if anyone can fix
my eyes,my bones,my back,my brain,
stop them, playing painful tricks,
and fix..

fix this sick child,make her right!
hours spent in clinical light!
hours spent and money too,
just so what normal kids do,I can too

just so I can see and stand,
so I can write and and and and..

My eyes are bad,I cannot see.
My bones are broken,I can't stand.
My back is bent,I cannot feel.
My brain is sick and so am I.

I'm sick of telling you that lie,
of "I'm ok, not scraping by".
I'm sick of hearing doctors say
that I'm broken in a different way.

I know I'm broken,it's ok
,but tell me,
do I have to stay?

every year she comes to town

carrying nothing but thoughts

still every year they weigh her down

her tapestries of plots



so many plots,each unraveled yet tied

drawing you in with her nets

couldn't escape if you tried

she tells everything,never forgets



the faintest whisper

loud as a storm

air full of glister

as her voice grows warm



warm as the fires lit at night

to keep away the bitter cold

or hot as summers and bright

you never know what her voice'll hold



she speaks so softly

yet the pictures are clear

she tells them fondly

for everyone to hear



once you hear her stories

they'll be yours aswell

they don't fit categories

but they're yours to tell