Snow
Has fallen
For so long
In my mind
It's been
Numbing
All the feeling
Deep inside

Afraid
To feel
What burns so
Cold
For weakness
Is a hard
Fault to
Behold

I choke
I just
Dont want
To be
Alone
Anymore
My heart is
Sore from
Running
From itself

I dont want
To live
On the shelf
So lonesome
My china
Skin will
Crack
And my paint
Will fade
In the
Snow

I am made of fractal dust
My ashen skin will turn to rust
My insides surely will combust
We all end up in pieces
Arrange them into different shapes
To forms we shall appreciate
We are not built to really hate
But we do have the talents
Let me cry my diamond tears
As I chase away my fears
And let me analyze my years
To find out who I am now
Or where to go from now on
Which path to shine my light upon
The courage now to face the dawn
I swear I'll get there someday

My mechanical pencil lead keeps breaking, and somehow it feels like a metaphor for my life

Parodies of ourselves
We are
Walking perfection
Aren't we?
We are
These careful little
Beings
We are
Propped up
On strings
We do all
The right things
And we
Dance like
We're supposed to

But
What if I dont want to?

Often there is ecstasy in pain
It lures us like we're insects to a flame.
Though thousands die
We never learn,
And for some sick reason crave the burn.
It is our nature, though we may fail,
For divine humor we prevail.
To learn from the past
Is a complex endeavor,
But to walk through fire
Is what we all do together.

I need to remember my Gods are by my side,
I'll be a lonely bite of truth in this belly full of lies.
For this game is never won,
All our bets are not forsaken.
The endless odds will one day rise,
And we'll leave the system shaken.
Peace
Is never permanent,
Not all of us are cool with it.
We'll write our dying testaments
In suicides and percocets.
With flaming wings we say our vows
And down into the sea we drown.
They're testing us,
We **** around,
We lose ourselves with every round.
They make us sit and take their tone.
They make us thing that we're alone.
If not, we'll break their ******* bones,
They dont want our freedom because they know.
We'll show them we wont ever be owned.

I have felt
panic
in places of peace.
I can't always
know
when people see me.
For who I
am
is not what I seem.
And who I will
be
is all but a dream.
I want to know
you
all the rips in the seam.
I want to
sate
all the places you seethe.
If you'll let me
in
baby life will be cream.
We will rise to the
top
Just believe me you'll see.

Reveries,
and silent dreams,
of which I wake from when I sleep.
If I dream,
if I don't just lean into thoughts
that knot up my stomach like strings,
of frail thin hair from a pale little girl
who sat on the floor.
Passively watched the world,
and it's hard to understand when you
can't feel things.
And it's hard to count stars when you're
staring at your ceiling.
It's hard to love your angel kisses when
you've never had wings.
It's hard to leave everything behind
when it's all you've ever known.
All you thought was kind.
But was harsh,
like bark of the oak
that you fell from.
The scrapes and the scar from the
branch that you broke off,
will fade.
Things change,
like the skins the snakes shed off,
I will scream out my pain,
I will change.

Ill and fleeting imperfections
Lily petaled plant dissections
Action wrought of flawed intention,
Trying to work this broken invention.
Be close to me and I'll give,
You can break me and I'll live,
You can breathe and give me more
Than a reason to be here.
As of now my heart beast solely alone,
One arm strokes my own,
And my skin shivers because
It longs to touch something real.
And feel a life sated in more
Than the endless apathy
It kindly reaches out to lay the seeds.
It needs,
But it does not know how to not flee
From the answer.
Not to flinch into the cancer.
I hope there's a lantern
To guide us to the brightness,
We will see the whiteness
Of the moon,
Maybe someday we'll finally be free.
If that happens
Will you meet me?
Apres moi le deluge
As long as I will just have you.

I am not an estimation,
I live off of variation.
Don't put me in your connotations.
Leave me off your tongue.

I coat things in lamination,
Keep them though I cannot save them.
I eat things past expiration,
Though they make me sick.

I have blurred periphery,
The world, at once too much to see.
The Earth needs a mastectomy
To **** away the cancer.

We think we'll make a legacy,
When all we do is die and breathe.
They want nature to take a knee,
Things may get explosive.

We are the children of the ******,
The soldiers shipped away to wars,
Conglomeration CEOs,
We loathe the place from which we're born.

Laying out, fermented, bruised.
We curse the tree which let us loose.
The rotten fruits which once were new,
Have stained the kitchen table.

A pirouette,
A leap of faith,
The leaves in May are blinding green.
I wanted you,
To break in two
To feel the spear in which I lean.
I'll push a stone
Away from home,
Someday I want to face the seas
That terrify,
Entice my eyes,
I don't want scorn when I do leave.
A tattered border
Lies between,
The lines of up and down I read.
I open books
And think about the
Blossoms on fictional trees.

Time will curve and convalesce into a being I know less than tears that drop and fall along the thorns of spring's new roses.
We came up from the land of sun, the diamonds in the withered rough and dying things that bluff the green grass blanketing their front lawns.
Time has lied and tied me down now I'm a sad old ****** up clown who uses jokes to hop around the reasons I'm unhappy.
And people do not understand, I dont mean all the jabs I land and how I'm trying to turn this ****** hand to something golden. And I'm a ****** up person on in the long road to enlightenment. And I'm a child deep inside but all I do is fight with it.

I'm
Knocking, knocking
Solo walking
Trying hard to find my flock
And things are different
When alone
Been spending too much
Time at home
Can you hear me outside people?
Is my voice too small and feeble?
Too quiet on your locked up doors?
Or is it that I'm not of yours?
That I won't fit
Under your steeple
And to you I'm the one
Who's bitter and evil?
I don't understand
Maybe I should go
Back to my knocking and walking alone

As I wept and layed upon
The ashes of
My love among
The hardly dead
And hardly dying
Fields of flowers
Lost but trying
Out
The different ways
They say to make it
In this mess

Once Fate has closed
The blackened box
What can you do
To pick the lock?
What can you do
But grieve and rock?
While one way only
Moves the clock

When you see through stained glass eyes
With a mind that's full of shining light
The world just seems so vivid, bright, and oh so full of color.
But could you ever tell the girl,
With stained glass eyes that glint like pearls,
Of black and gray, the dull real world
When she has not succumbed to more?

Me and my scribes hands
Me and my eyes
Writing out truths
While spitting out lies
I cannot explain it
I might as well try
I feel like I'm falling
I know I could fly
I cannot contain
The things in my brain
I keep analyzing
Yet I don't know why
I act this way
When roads they change
I just keep on tripping
And stumbling by
Do the birds hear me as I can hear them?
Do the roots feel me and call me a friend?
Do the clouds roll?
And break wet and cold?
And wash away all of the dirt
Shrouding sense?
Does the sky cry when
Stars fall from the night?
Are things truly made
Of darkness and light?
We have to fall
To feel the call
From deep in our souls
Which brings us to life.

I am bathed in light
Feelings come and go in waves
As it thaws my heart

This monotony is killing me,
don't stumble self,
with aching feet.
You'll live this Hell
and then be free
you too must help
to keep the peace.
I close my eyes
and breathe in deep,
to dissipate the energies
that lurk inside the dark to seethe,
I know they're living here with me.
It's funny how to me they're beasts,
yet I'm the one with claws and teeth,
a flaming sword for cutting free
the things that aren't meant to be.

I have these holes
Within myself
That fill with sand
Dust on the shelf
The memories
The dying seeds
For what has happened
What that will bring
It has to shape now
Who I will be
What burns to ashes
What sets me free
What collects pale dust
On shelves to be
When today becomes a memory.

Some mothers don't have time to make dinner
Some of them just can't buy rice
Some kids eat from cans warmed on gas stoves
Some kids don't have things that are nice
To some, these thoughts aren't provoking
Always someone will live this way, right?
That isn't reason enough for ignoring
What's living right here in front of your eyes.

They were not the way we are,
I wonder what their minds would find,
Within our planes and trains and cars,
Within our ticking clocks and time,
Today, tomorrow is not far,
We keep the future in our minds,
Though yesterday, as far as stars,
We do forget that it is fine,
To remember hearts were weighed in jars,
And kids weren't taught to toe the line.

We are all torn paper dolls
No sounds we make when we do fall
Could etch into our porcelain skin
How easy paper is to bend
We have been cut and ripped and folded
Dipped into glue mached and molded
I have learned I am not that thin
My will remains though paper bends
I know we all are paper dolls
One by one in line to fall
I thought us weak until I knew
The falls were a choice
Instead I flew

Rain drops into puddles,
water rippling as I see.
I've always thought about
tomorrow, now I've no
idea where I'll be.
When the sun rolls into
morning, I'll have things
I have to leave. I shove
A cork into the bottle.
Stop the rivers,
stop the scene.

Don't tell me,
here I go again.
The girl who
keeps her secrets
in her skin.
Then cuts it up
to bleed, therein
I will not tell a soul.

But then I need
to hear the words.
That wanting this
is not absurd,
and not that this
cannot be cured.
I know I can't
escape from this.

However, wanting this
for so **** long,
yet nothing felt.
No right or wrong.
A pinch of guilt,
the blade's sharp song.
Has made me feel obscure again.

I am unsynchronized synchronicity
The half pages in journals left blank
That's me
The image of composure while crashing down inside
The graceful dance of panic through the web I'm trapped inside
I've felt another shift lately, in the ways that I perceive
The image of the me I know is always incomplete
There's always new ways to see they say
New ways to turn our feet
We can never fully fill the holes this way
But we can still feel more complete

Can you feel the holes in me?
Wide as any of the seven seas
Filled with all my inner beasts
I want, but don't, to let them free.

Can you feel me? Can you see?
I'm half of what I used to be
I spend my time just wallowing
Self pity, depression swallowing
Down this dark hole, following
Just to feel my insides hollowing.

Time to breathe,
Time to think.
Crushing my wings
Won't set me free.
I fear I'll die,
If I don't leave.
I'll lose the things
Inside of me.

What to think when looking off into the skies. Day or night, it seems to carry you off into that mystical place that creates the constant illusion. That place where the Earth circles the Sun and the stars combust into bright bodies of gases and fumes. Gone yet we still see them nightly. I dream of coming back from the black holes lost in space and seeing a world where we did not revel in our own filth and build towers to infinity on the under-paid wages of their captors. A world where opinion and culture didn't create a veil between the inhabitors of this planet. I dream of a world where I won't be set apart by the pentacle around my neck or judged by the look of my style. Where I won't fear the birth of a child because of my own fear of the future. One step at a time we breathe toward recreation.

I walk by in threes
With these scars on my knees
To tie my eyes to the trees
Marking maps in my dreams

I press my ear to the door of the seekers,
flames from the heart of a phoenix light my path like lanterns across the sky is now the glimmer in my eyes.
Hope.

I feel, in the soul, in the belly of the beast.
Flaming coals burning holes in canvas paintings of the East.
At least I know I've been learning captioned lullabies.
Uncovering truths as day by day the lyrics have come to unwind.

My dad is a rock,
He is tough, and I've tried.
But I hope that someday we'll find crystals inside.
Or he'll stop punching holes through the walls of people's lives.
With bleeding fists,
I wish his anger would find a cave and go hide.

My mom is like magma,
she sits and she steeps.
She takes rocks and she melts them into pools around her feet.
She erupts in spurts of vulnerable untruths,
And hot anger that scars, chars, and burns anyone standing close to her.
But when lava sits, and when it has dried.
From the infertile past battlegrounds,
Forests will rise.

I feel....
Empty space.
My mind echoes colors off the walls,
Created entirely of nothing..
This is where I live when I feel lost.
These are the depths of my world.
How do you begin to describe your
Inner sanctum
Without defying the mystery and tranquility  of all this silence..?
As if the forests would set fire
Burning to paper and ash  if told
Out of rhyme.
Like all the Fae would escape and die.
But do we even stop to wonder why?
This is my place
It's my  escape. *
Life doesn't always require the masquerade.

Collaborate,
that moment when you realize
you aren't what you thought.
But I guess nature comes in seasons
All we can do is rot.
To fake all our reasons,
to say we forgot.
Excuses, excuses.
They can be all we've got.

Excuses or not,
there is no reason to stop.
Every moment we live comes in direct correlation with what we give.
And these people don't hesitate to take what we need to live.
They run off billboard signs and industry signs,
pressing pretty little pills
to eliminate this beautiful life's thrills.

To look at the sky,
to open your eyes.
To be let in on those subtle, honest surprises.
To look back to something,
and say that you tried.
At least you can say you have the will to survive.
Cuts needles, stitches, and lies.
Learn to stitch yourself together,
and remember the wise.
Those shredded ropes,
those severed ties,
Shouldn't be all that reminds you
you're alive.*

The daily rise and fall of life
is a constant reminder of the pain and strife we encounter
in the race against time.
Both sides equally beautiful dark and light,
enjoy both for they are all we have.
Right?

Sun, Moon
Day, Night
Yin-Yang
Black,White
My feet connected,
latched to dirt.
We lack our balance
on this Earth.
Just feel the roots,
feel the world.
We're all one light,
just watch it burn.
Like a lantern,
like candles bright.
The moon can't truly be hidden
behind the night.

The vibration hums.
It sews together the matrix
we can't see beyond.
Blinded by all light sometimes
feeling is all the sight, you need.
Inward is the escape.
And the final Frontier,
may be the graveyard we fear.
Stars mapping the space we're given
between god for our own development.
We've been here before
that's why I know
but we're meeting for the so called first time.

We all have spirits,
reoccurring,
I think we come back,
we're always learning.
Taking steps to fill the void.
They say matter can't be created
nor destroyed.
Take a look at your laws
of Conservation of Matter.
Yet you still call us crazy.
Aren't you seeing the pattern?
Order, chaos, life, and birth.
Is lying to yourselves all that you thought it was worth?
I see through the glass,
a kaleidoscope of visions.
We can't remake the whole world
through cellular fission..
Or can we?...

I see my Goddess in the skies
In the stars and moon that make the night
I see her beauty in the world
I can't describe it word for word
It's like a feeling in my core
With my circle drawn upon the floor
Those moments when you can't help but dance
Those moments lost inside a trance
When your feet pound the ground just right
The flames that seem to burn all night
Engulfs it's whole surrounding with light
It covers everything in sight
Who's to say that this is not right?

Let me go through your mind,
Through the forests,
Through the times.
Let me collect all the pieces,
Unmask those secrets hidden in rhyme.
Like puzzle pieces to put into place,
Defined by irony, thoughts now lost in space.
You can't hide your hatred with lots of silk and pretty lace,
You can't run from yourself, it's a meaningless chase.

What lies in the confides of these pages.
A black hole to capture an artist's rages.
In whatever form, pictures or words.
They always come down, constantly crashing in hoards.
Beware I say, of what you might see.
What could be my mind's eye, of what's truly me.
Written in books, bound by leather,
Caught in dream catcher strings to keep me out of the Ether.
Be careful I say, of what you might see.
What could me by mind's eye, of what's truly me...

It seems like all of this is just a system.
If we're the waste then what the gold?
If we all rose up we could **** them.
But if we resort to hypocrisy,
We'll lose all we've got left to hold.

There is a girl
At the end of the hall
With thoughts like rain
Her back pressed to the wall
Her words untamed
She won't be changed
With her beautiful voice
So soft it charms snakes

But behind closed doors
You never know
What she could be thinking
Or what she could know
What she's hiding
How she's grown
How she's dying
To at least be known

But she'll carry on
With open eyes
She'll find her way
Be more the wise
She'll fan the fire
Before it dies
In attempts to make up
For those previous lies

I am the light
The fire inside
To make you hopeful
Make you bright
I am the one to wear down the path
To finally learn to close my wrath

I am the one with sticks and stones
Though I don't think I'd use them to break any bones
Send a letter
Don't trust the phone
They're listening in
Though they think we don't know

Tick... Tick... Tick... Tick...
With the clock hanging on the wall,
Here I am to hear the noises,
To close my eyes and remember them all,
The echo of no sound through the room,
The absence of footsteps down the hall,
The only sound a lonely clock,
Hanging, fading on the wall,
Tick... Tick... Tick... Tick...

If we were allowed to sing a Pagan song
With our drums in the open
No people telling us it's wrong
With paupers and dancers
Bonfires burning, nights are long
Maybe we could get closer to our peace
Maybe we could love one another
Maybe we can finally say
We really are just sisters and brothers

Thoughts are like rain,
To slide right off of the heads of our leaders
Like drops off umbrellas.
Only to collect on the ground,
Broken and bruised,
To start a massive flood.

Drowning in an abyss of sorrow
Thoughts only to be forgot tomorrow
Let me drown those evil words,
In absurd ideas that could start wars
I preach it not to feel the burn
Like heaven's hot and hell's not stern
My ice, my castles all in all
Don't try to go up expecting not to fall
Don't crown the king and say it's wrong
Just dance along with winter's song

Find that stillness,
And dance to the sound.
Those thoughts, emotions so profound
With strings to tie our hearts to stay,
With knots to bound our every hate
With love to numb the pain away,
With every move to make tomorrow today.
So let the silence finally create,
Something precious,
Or somewhere to escape.

They sent us here to feel the burn,
To pretend like it doesn't hurt.
To take our skies and crash them down.
To fill our lungs and make us drown.
But we'll be free that one is sure,
Out of our darkness we can find the will to be pure.
Like tulips we can become clean,
They can hurt us but they can't take our dreams.

Ever felt sharp needles like ice,
But nothing to blame when you open your eyes?
Like existence is nothing when the mind is awake,
Or when your mind is gone all your body can do is shake.
When essence communicates all that needs to be said,
The flowers won't wilt and the leaves won't turn brown, yellow, or red.

Ever felt like you're drowning?
Yet the air seems too dry to stay.
But you don't say anything,
Because no one cares enough to read this anyway.
My marks on paper,
Pen to the page.
To console my anger,
To empty out my rage.
Are all just vessels,
Do my poems sound the same?
Because words run together,
Just give it a new name.
When did I get this **** self conscious?
I'm trying to hide it
I'm trying to get better.
But all I see in front of me,
Are my streetlights getting dimmer.

It seems I'm less than I thought,
A red line again,
It seems I've already forgot.
That we're all human,
Does that make me not?
A line under my school khakis,
My razors seem to be back at use.
Put in closets to dust,
In Drawers without light,
But I'll know they're there,
It's like they whisper at night.

What if I practiced necromancy?
Talked to the dead?
Would they still try to tell me that it's all in my head?
To get me to hide it,
You don't know how I've bled.
How I've fought for my freedom,
All my thoughts stained in red.