When you joke you sound so serious
And I never seem to get it until it’s too late

You like order and tradition
I listen to Christmas songs in July.

Our moods never seem to match
You seem to thinks that that’s just fine.

But I don’t understand.

I’m always worried, it seems,
That I’ll somehow let you down
And in doing so, I’ve succeeded.

I always do the best that I can
to look good for you
you complain, “it isn’t needed.”

You’re family only likes the ‘Normal’
Whatever that is
But I stick out like a sore thumb.

From my hair and it’s ever-changing colors,
To my jeans with their pictures and quotes,
...That are drawn on with sharpies...
and the paint stains that cover them from time to time!

Because of all of this, I worry.

Am I too weird?
Is my rainbow-like hair too odd?
Are my drawn on jeans ,
My crazy belly dancing skirts,
And pentagram necklaces,
Simply too strange?

What of my love of olives?
And how I ***** up my face when I think?
Do you not like how I spend hours on my computer,
Working on one picture (trying to make it just right)?

Or how, when I choose to color my art by hand,
I walk away with paint all over me (Even on my cheeks),
And an oddly proud grin plastered on my face?

I worry, and pace,
For days on end, at times,
Wondering if you really love me.

And when you finally see me,
The weird, colorful,  oddball that I am
You smile, and kiss me,
saying "i've missed you so much!"

And I know that I worried for nothing,
That you are different from your parents,
That our beliefs live together in harmony,
That you actually like the odd faces I make when I'm thinking
and the weird colors I dye my hair,
And that you really, truly love me—

Paint stains and all.

I spent years flinching when someone so much as moved too quickly
jumping at everything, peering around corners only to be scared by my own shadow
you had broken me and drilled inside of my head,
manifesting as some monstrous creature in my imagination
and you come around now thinking you can still intimidate me?
these skills that i've honed are just  for fun and games
they're for kicking *** and taking names
i learned them just for taking on guys like you
you're just a bully with a name tag  that reads "Badass"
like i can't see right through you  

And you can run around telling people we know that i'm crazy,
that i'm a liar,
and that i'm a *****.
because i know, and they know, that i am so much more.
there are reasons why she looked exactly like me.
i am the one that haunts your dreams,
the one who refused to be used and abused,
who was sick and tired of fliching when someone reached for sticks on the riverbank to poke around in the mud
i was the girl that told you i will not be cheated on,
i will not be pushed to the back burner

i took what was left of my bruised and battered pride and i ran, praying that i could spread my wings
it was like i grew tired of thinking that i should fly
when the only thing that flies is the time i wasted watching days go by
waving at opprotunities as they passed me by
and i couldn't stand being scared of my own tail
so the days in which i was afraid of you are long gone
i will not rush to the car, heart pounding, ears ringing, just from the mere sight of you

i will not back down from any fight you try to bring to me
becasue i refuse to gasp through crossed ribs again,
and I refuse to say that it's okay every now and again
to curl up on the bedroom floor in agony
and wait for the un-seen bruises,
the mental pain,
the lack of physical evidence
to fade away

After all is said and done
if you still think you're a juggernaut in my mind
bring it on, because you're bound to find that
the bigger the come, the harder they fall
and trust me *** you're just way to too tall
a tale to be belived anymore
too many compulsive lies have cluttered everyone's veiw
and by wiping them away they see you for what you are
it's going to be you trying to run for the door
as i stand up to you for the first time in my life
i won't let you ******* touching me
not without walking away with much more than bruised pride
or broken ribs
oh no

You won't leave without everyone knowing  that you're nothing anymore
and trust me it's not the beat down that will open their eyes
because to me, and everyone else
you're just a sad excuse
for what a man should be.

I walk through life with my palms open, my arms spread wide
and i keep my eyes looking up at the sky thinking
what was it i was supposed to do today?
i can't remeber now
i've flipped through my lists a dozen times
tripped over words that just don't ryhme
and i just can't seem to remember
what it was i was trying to say
because i feel like every time i write these words
they turn out all wrong
or like lyrics to some sort of ****** country song
and i can't help but wonder "am i trying too hard?"
to make you see this side of me that i truely don't understand myself
and it's not that i don't know who i am or what i stand for
because there are a million things i would like to say
and would gladly die for them if only given the chance
it's these words that i spill out come from a place even i haven't explored
and i would if given the time, i would take up my sheild and my sword
and ride away into the sunset and not return until i had learned
what it was i was going for.
it seems that one day just blurs into the next
and they fly by so quickly that i can't catch them with my net
and these hours i try to cherish don't seem to last
they were my future but now, now they're my past
the present you see doesn't last
and it just comes and goes way too fast
and i wish, i wish i could understand,
why it was i tried to make you see my point of view,
when yours is so much more interesting.

The soft glow of morning glistens off brilliant scales
As the stars that look upon the world wink slowly,
And fade into a sky that, as the light of day begins to pour over the land,
Paints itself in hues of gold and rosy pinks.

Shadows slowly shrink and new ones begin to form
As wings are spread to soak the fresh warmth of dawn.
For a moment in time, harmony overcomes the world,
And worries are left to drift away.

Breathing in deeply the scent of moist earth and tranquil sea air,
She stretches her new found wings,
And relishes the flushed dawn as it begins to fade,
Brightening into a cerulean that envies that of the sea.

This precipice, seen so many times in past dreams,
Now holds a place in her heart greater than any she has ever known;
She closes her eyes and listens to the whispers in the wind.

A song as ancient as the rock she lays upon,
Archaic and hauntingly beautiful,  
Begins to stir in the air and play anew,
As she takes flight for the very first time.

She is home; she is free.

There was a time
Once...
Long, long ago
(or so now it seems),

That You
Being the elequent (and yet awkward) man that you are,
were the kind of man who (without prompt)
went out of your way to do romantic sort of things.

Hardly were they anything as eleborate as gifting fine jewelry,
or a dozen red roses,
or even boxes of chocolates,
no, no

you were (and perhaps still are),
the kind of man who wrote poems,
who dedicated songs,
who went out of your way to express love
in ways that were not material.

But still so Sincere were the ways in which you expressed yourself,

And although these days seem to have passed from existance (eons ago it seems was the day of their passing)
I do not sit now,
with pen and paper,
to write out complaints of days gone by

For this is a tale of neither joy nor woe.

A Tale not of anger, nor strife,
nor any other strong emotion
that most tales of this sort are written to express.

Perhaps, it is a written account of my curiousity.
of how, as these years have gone by, you have evolved
and I too, have grown with that evolution.

For even though we don't venture out into the world
alone with one another
for we generally take with us friends and loved ones,

And you,
That beautiful, glorious person you are,
have delved deeper into louder, more agressive (and somehow soothing) music,
and have strayed so far from the romantic ballads
that you once used to send to me,

I do not weep for those days,
For even with their death
came a sort of comfort
that I have seldom known before.

It is as though the cute, romantic days of our early love,
blossomed into a love that, words cannot express.

And no amount of Well-worded poems,
or Love songs,  or Cards;

No amount of gifts,
like fine rings,
or overly-cute stuffed bears.

Could ever compair to the emotions that run deep through our hearts,
like rivers flowing along side one another,
that as years pass,
slowly errode away the earth, and stone of contemporary love,

And, as they do so,
they take with them the overgrown weeds of dime-a-dozen love songs (even though I cannot help but cherish each and every one),
and wash away the insignificant problems everyone faces,

And someday soon,
those last few bits of rock, and dirt,
with fall away.

Leaving only one river,
that will flow strong, and pround,

until one day,
a story will be told,
that there was a time,
long, long ago...

It started with a flip flop
And a good book
I had my nose buried so far between those pages
That the world around me was a dream
I was lost somewhere  in the land of vampires, and aliens, shrieking demons and horrors that instill fright into the very hearts of men
I was far too busy running through lines of Anne Rice and Amelia Atwater-Rhodes
Dancing over pages of H.P. Lovecraft and Lewis Carroll
Singing praises of Edgar Allen Poe and C.S. Lewis
Indeed…Far too busy to pay attention to the mundane or boring
Why even blink at something as common-place and every-day as
Say
Boarding the bus.
My mind was dazed, still lost within those words
Still repeating lines, still suspended in the story
I had no need to look where I was going,
My body marched on without me, knowing the routine
I trudged along the pathway as I thought about how long I had to wait before I could retreat back into a story I knew far better than anything this world had to offer
And as my feet fell heavily on the floor,
it happened
Like fireworks, like lightening, like thunder, like an earthquake happening beneath the converse on my feet…yet above the grooved black floor of the bus below.
Something slipped in between the two, disrupting the fantasy world I had already returned to
I jolted, you stumbled,
I nearly tripped you (at least i could have...although you like to say otherwise)

I had disrupted your world
Your train of thought
Your daydream
But worst of all
I had stepped on your flip flop…

The glare you gave me was enough to make me die a little
I could think of nothing more than to take my seat and withdraw myself from what I had just done, the scene I felt I had caused
Your hazel eyes had been on me for only a mere second or two
But that was far too long for any eyes to gaze at me
I wanted to lose myself once more in the sanctuary of thin, discolored pages
I longed to feel the comforting, forgiving arms, of characters I knew and loved, wrap around me as they dragged me back into their world
I may have mumbled a small
“sorry” before quietly deciding to myself to avoid you at all costs from now on

The Fates, of course, would simply not have that though
Oh no…my life is never so simplistic as that...the Moirae seem to have this need to throw chaos into it every now and again
And that is exactly what you caused

One day, you approached me, and commented on my reading choices
You sounded approving, and I grimaced inside
Getting your approval was at the top of my list of things not to do
How was I to know what I mistook for hate, for utter loathing, had turned into affection for a girl much like yourself?

A girl with her nose in a book and her head in the clouds,

How was I to know that simply allowing myself to talk to you, to let you walk beside me as I headed to class
would lead to where it has?
Although, I must admit, you weren’t nearly as vile as I thought you were going to be
But still when I entered my class I was glad to be free of you
And much to my pleasure I was switched to an earlier class, no more bus rides with this strange boy I was now utterly confused about.

Oh, but I saw you around,

And somehow, in one conversation you switched from foe, to friend
And a few…hundred…(or so it seems), text messages later
And awkwardly adding you on  facebook
"Friend" turned into something I couldn’t quite describe,

But oh the places we would go;
The things we would see,
The laughs, smiles, tears
We would share,
The compliments you’d force me to accept,
The foods I would make you try,
And the smile I couldn’t resist
(The one you tried to hide at first),
Who could have known that we could end up with something as beautiful (something as amazingly, wonderfully, stupidly brilliant!)  as this,
When it started, with a flip flop

Will you?
Will you kiss my feet,
ugly and calloused as they are,
from doing what i love?

Will you kiss my fingers, and wrists,
when They ache from playing the piano?

Will you kiss my palms,
My eyes,
My lips,
when they grow tired of signing, and interpreting?

Will you litter my throat,
and trace your lips across it,
when I grow weary of singing?

And when I am a Mother,
will you still make love to me?

When we are old,
will you still hold me,
compressing me tightly,
as you whisper you love me?

And If you should pass before I,
will you wait for me in the summer fields,
even though you do not share my faith?

I know I shall.

I shall kiss your fingers,
your palms,
you arms,
when they ache from playing the bass.

I shall wrestle with you,
and laugh when you tickle me,
even if I have just come from judo,
and my body aches.

When I am a mother,
my children shall be ours,
and I will want no other being besides you.

When we are old,
I shall care for you,
and love as much as I do today.

And if I die before you,
I shall wait for you in the unknown,
rather than go to a place where I am meant to be.

For there is no home there for me without you.

And although I think these things,
I do not worry, for I know we will.

When we are alone,
and all is quiet,
we shall make sweet music together.

Or I will dance for you.

While we are young we shall laugh,
love, and Live,
every single day.

And when we are parents,
we shall sneak, and tip-toe,
stealing away intimate moments at every chance.

When we are old,
I know neither of us will  have aged in the others eyes.
For you are as ageless to me as I am to you.

And when the time comes
for us to leave this world,
we shall leave it together.

Hand in hand we will go into the darkness of the unknown.

There are times when I feel that being tired but unable to sleep is nearly as bad as being hungry with nothing to eat
Although, when you're stomach aches,
you can always take a nap to make it feel better...

And right now, I’m not sure what is making my stomach feel so hollow, perhaps it's the butteries that are dancing around in it
But what used to be butterflies are now moths laying eggs of worry and decay in the happy feelings my heart once held.
Somewhere along the line i must have slipped up, i must have made you angry one way or another I just know.

And it's these thoughts that plague me, like the accursed ticking of the grandfather clock that stands in the black room of the Mask of the Red Death, Letting me know that soon my time will be up.
I try not to let my worries way me down like cement blocks tied to my feet as members of my own subconscious mind throw me over the bridge of hope, and i sink into the sea of uncertainties.

I keep reminding myself that there are reasons why your eyes light up when you see me, things that make that smile of yours takes my breath away, and so amazingly infectious that i can't help but grin despite the way my stomach has turned itself into knots.

Seriously my organs must be playing twister in there or something because before i met you they didn't look like a pretzel...and least i don't think they did.

and after all this time you must have noticed how one glance of yours makes my heart race, pounding against my chest like the way prisoners bang steel doors .  

Your touch instills in me endless delight and I know that when I gaze at you my eyes they light up, and my smile must rival your own.

Can we truly go on like this forever? I don't see why not, except for maybe how my stomach is still in those knots, i wonder if they'll ever go away? I wonder...should i not want them to stay?

And what of yourself? Does my smile bring warmth to your soul as you watch me look up at the sky waiting for the lightning to strike and the rain to fall?
You laugh as i squeal with joy as the thunder claps
Time stands still for a moment and I sigh,

Is it enough for you? To watch me bubble with glee
As the sky cries tears of acid rain and lightning bolts crash down from the sky with a booming fury...that used to scare me to death.
Do your eyes linger on my figure as we part? Do you turn back with hopes of catching one last glimpse of me before I disappear from sight?

If not, i suppose that's fine,
Because this moment is all that matters,
when my stomach is neither clouded with butterflies.
nor tightened with worry,
and I can't seem to recall what day it is.

In this moment, all I need
Is just you, me, and that rain.

How I dearly wish that you'd come home
It is lonely here without you
and though I know not the reason for which you've gone
I can say, that I have cherished all about you.

Your things, I keep them here, safe
as I wait for your return
and I wander about this place
wonder, what it is left that I have to learn.

For I know that you will never come back to me
not in any earthly form  
still I ponder, and inquire as to how it could be
that you were stolen, snatched from all that is safe and warm

"Truly, " I say to myself, "there has to be some mistake
there are no daemons who would harm thee,
or  from my loving arms take
that which I hold so dear as your company"

But alas I know these thoughts to be false
and, though I know not your destination,
I know from this home you would not simply waltz
away into the unknown, without hope of salvation  

so I repeat, in my fretted, worried tone
"thou would not leave that which thou holds so dear
and depart from  thine own hearts desire, leaving me alone"
These words I say without you here

surely, you must know all that I have sown  
for thou are  but part of myself: a piece of my soul,
though thou dost have a form of thine own
you are my familiar, it is thine doings  must extol

And it is through this praise of all of you
that I have come to see the faults of my own
that I must seek to undo
if I shall ever deserve to have you home.

Until That day, I pray thee wait
I only wish, that it weren't too late