I am not a barely passing score.
I am not a C- on
Last week's Algebra test.

I am not the hours spent
With my nose in a textbook,
Trying to solve a puzzle
That I will never use again.

I am not constant late nights
That are wasted studying
And stressing for my future;
A future that I'm supposed
To figure out right now.

I am not the answer that I need
When I raise my hand to ask "Why?"
And the teacher just ignores
My question, once again.

I am simply a human,
Attempting to find a place in this life,
Trying to grow and learn in wisdom.
**And wisdom is not a barely passing score

There are those who would not agree
With the thought of you and I;
The thought of our lips touching,
Of you kissing my neck as I arch my head back in laughter.
Sharing a *** of tea in midday,
Pointing out our favorite lines in the song
And realizing altogether
That we’ve only known one another’s  touch
For a short time; yet it feels like eternity.

I do not know all the secrets you hold,
The worst thing you’ve slurred while drunk,
Or how many friends abandoned you.
And you don’t know the dusty corners of my mind quite yet.
But what I do know is that
Your skin is made of galaxies,
Your eyes of stars,
Your heart of nebulas
And I can no longer imagine the night sky without you.

And even if my baggage comes with peach tea
And yours holds the ashes of cigarettes,
We won’t know  the difference 20 years down the road.
Brew me up and I’ll inhale your nicotine,
Let me steep and I’ll exhale the smoke you've held in for so long.

I’ll be your anchor and you can be my wings,
And we won’t give up easily.
We have this life and the next to figure it out,
And when the earth falls, and we plunge through darkness with it,
Nothing but our stars will remain.

Meet me on the horizon,
where the sun's rays kiss the ground,
and we'll run away together
to a place we can't be found.
Just take my hand and trust your heart
and we'll step out of this town.
Meet me on the horizon,
its a place we can't be found.

She is a house,
More like a cottage.
Small, quiet, quaint,
We all know the kind.
She is kind,
Her doors are unlocked,
And everyone is welcome.
Many come and go,
And some she wishes would stay,
But she understands
That there are other houses
That they want to visit, too.

From the road she looks perfect,
Like the house you want to settle in,
Raise a family,
Grow old and pass away in.
But when you get close
Enough to smell her wildflowers
Sitting on the porch,
You can see her pastel paint,
Peeling and cracking from
The sun's rays.
You can hear the floor squeak
From years of slight mistreatment.
You see the tiny nicks and scratches
On the furniture,
And the once polished silver
Is beginning to cloud.

The fireplace isn't quite warm enough,
The walls aren't quite thick enough,
The roof leaks here and there
In the heavy rainstorms.
Maybe she isn't the house
You want to settle in,
Raise a family in,
Grow old and pass away in.

But for now she will do,
Because she offers some warmth.
And in the morning you will leave,
Possibly visit another house,
Or cottage,
Or mansion.
But her fire will still be lit,
Her furniture will still be there,
And her doors will still be unlocked.

Do you speak the truth,
Or sputter lies when you’re intoxicated?
Do you truly mean what you slur?
For when we are sober,
Nothing is the same
As the drunken night before.

I am nothing but a jagged shard of glass
Protruding from the Earth's surface.
Perhaps if you casted me out to sea
And waited for my remains
To wash up on shore years from now,
Worn from the saltwater and sand,
I will be polished and shaped
Into a smoothed gem,
Worthy enough to catch an eye,
To be held up to the sun,
Then dropped back to Earth
And buried beneath the waves.

A small acorn falls to the ground
In a quiet forest.
An oak is born,
he slowly rises and develops,
and is captured in awe at the world around him.
He learns to grow and bask in the sun,
which shines through his taller brothers’ leaves.
He begins to bear food for his friends
who live in his young branches,
and the deer and spiders smile up at him
as they rest in his shade.

Yet a low rumble begins to grow in the distance,
and his friends are frightened away.
The deer and spiders don’t rest in his shade
and his friends don’t take his food anymore.

The noise grows louder and closer
and he looks to his older brothers for questions.
But before they can answer,
one by one he hears their branches snap.
Their roots lose their grip in the cold soil,
which they always called home.
The sun becomes easier to feel for the young oak,
and a sharp pain is felt at his feet
as his brothers crash around him,
screaming and tearing their way to the ground.
He feels his own roots snap
and his branches crack on the cold hard ground.
The warmth of the sun begins to fade
while the sharp pain is felt splitting him apart,
and another small acorn falls to the ground
in a quiet forest.

The vertigo stricken acrobat
Balancing on her tightrope,
High above the sunken rooftops
For what seemed like days on end.
Shaking and weak,
It could be said that
A single drop of moonlight
Could push her over the edge.

If only I could make her realize,
That she doesn't have to hide.
If only I could show her,
How beautiful she truly is.
If only she would accept the fact,
That so many really love her.
Maybe her smile will shine,
As bright as the stars in the sky.

Because I know it has,
And I know it can again,
Yet I don’t know how to show her
That her so-called "imperfections"
Cause her to be truly *perfect.

I never would have guessed,
but neither would have you,
that love can somehow make sense
when it comes down to just us two.

******** doesn't quite satisfy me.
I trip, fall, and stumble
As I search for a better term
To describe this so-called
"Relationship" between us.
But I suppose it will do,
Because that's all this really is:

********

It's odd to think that
We all use these
As a sort of tool
To escape reality.

They are a type
Of  hallucination,
And yet, they are
Completely accepted
In our society.

I warned you;

I’d ruin you.

And why am I here,
In this land of the living?
Are we even living at all?

And why am I here,
In this odd thinking society?
Are we even thinking at all?

"But (I) will help with anything you (need).
I won't judge or think any less of you
You can tell me anything and everything.
I will be here, I will (help.)"