She fell in love with November,
for the way the sun shined down on
decaying leafs
and chilling temperatures danced upon the tips of her fingers,
providing her with a perfect balance between life and death.

She presented herself to the world in this manner,
always happy and bright, but never content,
as days carried on cracks in her skin led to trails of pieces on the ground.
Her eyes often flickered between a beautiful orange and a sickly brown.
Her heart, as much as it wanted to be warm was deafly cold.

She was a mystery.

And as December rolled in and the world froze over in darkness,
so did she.
The only light in her life was the moon.
how badly I wish she could've loved a month like June.

There's an ice storm in my brain,
        my thoughts
                     are sliding
                out of control,
         there's a fire in my chest,
                        making ashes
          of what's left of
                     my soul.

The snow makes this humming noise
Can you hear it?
It’s the noise
That people described
When they were huddled
Around the campfires
Telling ghost stories
Back in the day
When the ground was soaking dry
And the tank top filled days
Ricocheted off of the boys
Chasing Bigfoot thought the cornfields.
The reflection of innocence
Left my mind
When reality kissed me
With her cigarette filled breath.
Leaving me
Cold,
Rusty,
Flaking away
From the radiant skin
That brushed off the cornfields.

The snow makes this humming noise
Can you hear it?
It sounds like my friends
Moving away
From the innocence
And transferring
To the school
Of harsh expectations.
They were forced
To take daily vitamins
Consisting of impractical expectations
Left by the people
Who said that they just couldn't do it.
You see,
My friends didn't follow the boy scout honor,
They left traces of themselves
Behind the cracks of my skull.

The snow makes this humming noise
Can you hear it?
Its sounds like the snow
Is giving a close shave
To the power lines
That crackle with apprehension.
I walk about the desserted Ice cream
That has foamed over the cornfields.
My feet seem to stick
To the people who wants me
To be just like my brother,
Whenever I creep
Through the creek of snow,
I get trapped by the vacant wasteland
All I can do is wait
For I am waiting for jack frost
to **** up my last breaths.
Crushing my soul
With the rhythm
of this humming noise
The snow makes.

I took the words
you wrote for me
and locked them
in my soul

Like the fireflies
caught on warm
dark summer nights
and placed inside a jar

Your words so sweet
they give me dreams
and helped guide me through
all the fears I couldnt see

I try so hard
not to hear
your quiet tortured sobs
ripping through my head

I try to sleep
but I can still feel
the weight of all your tears
weighing down my pillow

I try to ignore
searing pain gnawing
my every tender limb
from the blades you took to yours

I try to close
my bloodshot eyes to block
images of your bloodied body
laying beneath once clear water

I try to move
but its as if Im frozen standing
watching you fade away countless
times, your heart never stopping

I try to reach
hoping to touch your weary face
wanting to wipe the misery
from your beautiful eyes

I try to show
you I exist but every time
I reach for you I break the mirror
and youre gone once again

-ARI

Still fresh
    with that "popping" sound
Not yet throwing
     that dreaded "L" word around
   Starting to fall
         but having fun going down
        
First taste,
     a different kind of feeling
Going slow
          not yet hoping
or dreading
      Just beginning to notice all
           the little things
  Too soon for deeper meanings

      It's all still so new to me
but just recently...
         I had a glimpse of chivalry,
    opening doors and carrying bags
      Actual, honest to goodness, decency!
        Very pleasantly
             surprising....