curiosity, best left caged, away from those who regard ignorance as safe
rattle rattle, went the window, shake shake, went the walls
fear, works best when wild, filling those ignorant minds
smash & crash, the furniture flew through the room
thrum thrum, the harp pickes up a tune
as the chandelier fell on the unsuspecting child

Mourning, sorrow and loss, running rings and loops inside
your mind filled with a deep sadness over the one you lost
long ago when the crystal strained & the metal cracked into pieces
as your own peaceful world was torn apart and strewn across the cosmos

Down in the dumps, longing for freedom from your dark rotting treasure
hidden from view, from sight & smell, locked tight in an airless box
as suffocating as plastic wrap, wrapped around your face, mouth & nose
asphyxiating, deadening, slowly wasting away as the world keeps turning

a pill? frowns from the dead. a noose? frowns from the deceased
confusion and longing for the feather, for the end of emotion
less the love of the young ones past, more may emotion live
with no path, no sight, no air. locked in a box out of sight...

mindless

Love is like the rain,
because although when in the clouds,
the droplets may fall from the sky as rain,
they continue on for the chance of  
forming a beautiful crystal snowflake

Love is like the trees,
because although some die before
their prime, others live on for thousands
of years in harmony, and people gather
around and stare in awe at their beauty

Love is like the sun and earth,
because although the sun can not get
too close to earth, it still provides her
with sunlight, and energy, and anything
she needs to get through another day.

Love is like the dirt
because although it gets stepped on
everyday, it still provides homes for other
animals, and it provides plants what they
need to to grow and survive

Love is like nature
because too many times, people don't take
the time to appreciate it all of it,
but if we stopped and looked around,
we'd see how beautiful it really is.

It's hard to be positive,
when all I see,
Are clouds and thunder following me,
I see the beauty within the storm,
It does not cure this feeling torn,
I've checked the linings,
Gold and silver,
I've burned these hands,
The ones that killed her,
I will not beg to be forgiven,
Not claim insanity in which I was driven,
I was a fool that loved too much,
That believed in dreams and date and such,
So don't carve my name in marble or stone,
I don't want to be remembered, when I'm gone.

Maybe I'm bitter towards anyone in love because I've never felt those feelings. I've never looked at somebody and wanted to spend the rest of my life with them. I've never met someone and knew that they were who I wanted to wake up to every morning. I've never had a boy talk to me and feel waves crash over me. I've never felt that the arms I was being held were the arms that I want around me every chance I get. I've never felt the type of connection with somebody that people "in love" feel. Maybe that's why I don't believe in love. And I think it's foolish. Maybe I'll understand one day.

It takes time to not choose ignorance or bitterness.
It takes time to choose not to be desolate.
Most don't have the longevity, or the patience.
I'll look out hoping to find those stories of redemption;
I'll hope to be objective for a second.

Out there I'll find the truth in here.
In loving my neighbor, in giving, and praying.
In practice I'll find truth.
In tight-lipped, strength-inducing, liturgy.
I have little faith.
But I'll be what I was created to be
regardless of what feels right "naturally".
For truth I will choose.

I am daughter.
I am sister.
I am friend.
And one day, maybe,
I'll be a counter-part again.

I've had to wait and see
if my love will return to me.
He's gone to the garden,
marching around it's walls.
Thinking on all he's lost.
Streams he used to swim,
and trees he used to climb.
He remembered where he named the deer,
why and when.
He thinks on his old life often.
And I don't know if i'll ever see him
like I did when we first met.

My mother, Eve, was never without Adam.
But I've been without him.
I still don't understand.
Created for experience of
both design and collaboration.

By the one true story,
and by all the insane little stories that happen in between.
I am daughter.
I am sister.
I am friend.

It takes time to not choose ignorance or bitterness.
It takes time to choose not to be a desolate woman.

Sometimes to gauge a situation and get a clear perspective you need to turn away from proximity