I've always hated ending things
When I was younger I always left a single sentence unread in a book
Because that way I could say that the story wasn't over
The story wasn't finished and my imagination could thrive
But as I got older books became more serious
Characters died
I couldn't have that
Death meant the end so when a character died I would stop reading
I'd say the plot didn't interest me and throw it away
And this ideology took over my life and I procrastinated
I put things off as long as possible
And then when my grandfather died I did not bat an eye
It was just like the books I read
'Nothing happened, just don't bring it up'
I did that, every time someone died
Someone got hurt
A story ended
I avoided it like the plague
But what do you do when someone dies in front of you
When you hear the shallow beat of a dead heart
And when that happened I wept
Not because of something so ridiculous as a death
But because I realized I had turned into someone that didn't care
I had watched someone die
And the beep of the dead pulse only annoyed me

Go to them,
Tell them everything you love about them,
and if they allow it, grasp to them as if they were life itself

The clock will change
Things will rot
Things will grow
Things will change
We will change
Whether passive or not
is up to you

My eyes refuse to open
The light is too heavy for me to carry
The darkness is what helps me breathe
For my stress is a fog
Which is poison to my lungs

I've never understood the concept of being unique
'One of a kind'
'Irreplaceable'
'Nothing can take your place'
Doesn't it all sound lonely?
Every 'unique' person leaves a 'unique' void
It's like trying to finish a puzzle with the wrong pieces
In the end the piece ends up misshapen
From years of trying to fit in someones unique place
A place where they just don't belong

I try to think of the positives
Not electrons but things that I like
But my mind draws a blank and I know that it's wrong
But I can't think beyond today
And I know others like that
The nomads of our minds
We explore the depths that shouldn't be crossed
And we wonder 'why' too many times
So while the negatives hit me like a bullet from a loaded gun
The positives avoid me like the rich
Too good to touch the poor

"It's the easy way out"

When have I ever said I'm not a coward.

Our ignorance is something even gods cannot forgive

Open eyes
Closed heart

I am both terrified and enthralled with the impossibility of tomorrow

God I wish what's left of my breath would entrap you

From the moment I was born I began to die
From the alcohol fumes to the police visits
The smell of tobacco that lined the walls of a empty home
Family problems that brought bruised limbs and false explanations
And while my body was bruised my mind was already broken
Years of being told no one will miss me when I die
Years of wanting to die
I've been dying for so long I'm just a hollow husk
An empty shell of a little girl with small dreams

My voice trembles
words spill over lips chaotically
I want to fix my mistakes
and I want to explain
but my trembling voice makes all seem like lies
and the shaking voice that had felt like my own
smoothed out
letting the lies flow through
without my own consent

I remember stardust
It fell from your words with every goodnight
Like a soft trickle it would ease me to sleep
Every night your words floated in the air until the light joined me again

Your words were sometimes sharp
When I drove the car into the ditch you showed your fangs
Not as a threat, but, in a hostile way to hide your worry
Even through scarce breaths you managed to ease me

The voicemail is all that is left
Of years and years of memories
I haven't seen stardust since your mother passed,
You laid it in the coffin next to her and buried it alive

My mind has wandered to you again
As this pillow welcomes my empty skin I start to think
On this day of love you'll be with her
Your touch, so warm, will be with her
I wish I could hold them
All the times we had
These sleepless nights might mean something then
I was wrong to think that this husk of a human could love you
I know that
But I can't wish you happiness
Only a few dozen night have passed
All those nights that I haven't slept, enveloped by cold
Even so as I lie here freezing, knowing what I need to say
I love you
so much
Good night

Take this string in your hand
Let it guide you away
Past the boats, past the ships
So we can go and play

Let us forget about the blood shed
Each and every cry
All those we have mourned
All the sons that have died

Let us sink into our beds
Fall into a deep slumber
Reach into rustic coffins
Blood has soaked the lumber

Let bomb shells be lullaby's
Because this is ending fast
I'm sorry sweety, I need to go
There is but one more draft

A low hum is all that's left of our love
I silent melody of our hearts together
Beating in sync
No one ever told me how deadly a crack could be
Like a dam once it appears the water drains
I noticed your interest when you wanted to know her name
I realized the love between us had flowed out
So I left you alone
Saying nothing
I knew you wouldn't have the heart to leave
you were so cruelly kind
That the last song we sang together was goodbye

I'm not speaking of war
or the phrase 'Freedom isn't free'
Did we even choose to have those words shoved down our throats?
Are we truly free when we have so many things we have to do
Go to work
Go to school
Go to college
We act like we choose to do so
Most are afraid to be crucified by a dead society
Of parents and friends already moving on

Is there freedom in fear?
The fear of choosing and the fear of dying
We pick out what we wear but even that's restricted
By price tags and labels
People are still judged for their tone but not who they all
Like chains mark us when we are born
White, black, male, female
Terms are used to describe us before we can even understand them
They're used to decide how we spend our lives
So then... how are we 'free'?

We fear the unknown for reasons we can't even fathom
Whether it be the uncertainty of jumping either into water or spikes
or the fact that a mother's milk can be a poison
We forget that blades can be words and blood can be wine
and even though we know this, we still claim that all humans have humanity
We fear the unknown because we want to forget- even for a moment that there is something worse then what we already know

Why is it
that when you complained
about my words
and about my feelings
that once I stopped talking
and became numb
you screamed of the times that you loved
where I would talk and cry
as if I had chosen this
as if I wanted this

Their words are the wind
Harsh tones that only make the grass flow more beautiful

I like winter
Spring is too quick
Summer is too loud
Fall brings nothing but death
Only in winter does the earth stand still