A burning cigarette.
Maybe that's all we are.
We are all cigarettes,
burning and burning
in these places that we recognize as home.
Wasting away,
Waiting for something,
anything,
to take us away from this hell
that we disguise as happiness.
When I walk around this place
I see through these facades that we all put up
every one of us has a secret,
our goal is to hide it.
Hide the pain
or the happiness,
refusing to look weak.
We're all walking around this earth
trying to figure out the purpose,
the reason.
For existing?
For continuing in this unhappiness?
I don't know
Maybe
I don't pretend to know everything
I have days where I'm happy
I have days where I'm sad
We all do,
I contemplate this life more than I should
I question this all knowing power that is supposed to exist
Not denying "his" existence but wondering
if he does,
if he's saddened by what he sees.
Not in society,
but in me.
With the paths I've chosen,
I really hope not.
Because as much as I'd like to say I do,
I don't regret a thing.
With that said,
I guess I'll just sit back,
and light my cigarette,
and watch it all pass.
Hoping like everyone else
that the day that the burn reaches the filter,
there's at least one more in the box.

I want to exist.
I want to be beautiful.
I want to love my self
These goals seem so realistic.
So, possible.
These goals are goals I’ve had since I was 10 years old.
Standing in my bathroom,
Looking in the mirror,
Crying.
After the boy at school told me I was fat
After the ******* the internet told me to get on a treadmill.
I stared at myself in the mirror wondering,
What I had done to deserve this?
Nothing.
That’s the answer.
I was born with these bones,
I was born with this face,
This ***,
This stomach.
Society makes me look at myself
With disgust for the way I came out of my mother’s womb.
Something I had no control over.
I didn’t ask to be who I am.
Every day I stare at myself in the mirror
Like I did when I was 10.
I’m no longer 10 though,
I’ve learned how to correctly apply makeup
I go to a gym.
I’ve grown into my skin
I have straight teeth,
I went through puberty
I’ve lost and gained weight.
I graduated high school.
I’ve dated.
All of these things were things that I longed for when I was younger,
To be older,
Wiser,
Prettier.
Prettier,
It’s a funny word
I thought I knew what it meant.
I don’t.
I accept the compliments I’m given
Yet I return to that reflection
Hoping the face in the mirror will give me something I’ve been dying for.
Acceptance.
I used to want the acceptance of other
Until I got it,
And realized
Staring into that mirror
All I’ve ever really wanted,
was to go back to that 10 year old
And shake her and tell her she’s beautiful
And erase all of those mean words she’d heard from the girls at school
I’d contradict every word they said to her.
“You’re ugly”
“You’re beautiful”
“You’re fat”
“You’re perfect”
“You’ll never get a boyfriend”
“You’ll find someone”.
“I hate you”
“I love you”
I like to make people laugh
Not to cover up my secrets,
But to disguise people from the broken 10 year old that’s still beneath this skin.
I’ve grown up
I’ve learned to come to terms with who I am.
Sometimes though, I feel that tear stricken, bullied 10 year old coming to the surface
I repress it and remind myself
Society is ******.
Don’t listen to it.
All these years, I’ve longed to be someone else.
When all along,
I’ve just longed to learn to love who I am.

I dreamed of heaven once.
Once.
It was nothing I'd ever seen before.
It was full  of clouds and constellations
It was magnificent.
Everyone was beautiful,
Everything was beautiful.
Then I woke up
and shed a tear,
because I'd realized a truth I've always known.
My dreams, aren't prophetic.
They don't come true,
and that scares me.
A lot.

How has time become so lost, where does it all go?
We have days upon weeks with people we love,
but not enough time to go slow.
Time isn’t real.
Its human made.
It has nothing to do with our souls or how we feel
So why do we act as if it’s real?
I remember a childhood of playing outside,
Now all I’ve got is a bank account with not enough money to survive.
Growing up has come
It’s taken 17 years to arrive
But why then am I acting so surprised?
That’s why we make such a fuss.
It’s what society has instilled in us.
I know I won’t want to have to grow up and say;
sorry kid’s mommy doesn’t have enough time for you today.
There’s an easy solution
To our problem of time dilution
Slow down, stay back, be happy
Take a chance to think,
unplug the computer,
turn off the Iphone and,
pour yourself a drink.
Because you’ll never have this hour, this minute, this second again
So smile and say “I guess all I can do is be happy then”.

Before I left today, I looked in the mirror.
It wasn’t a look of admiration
It was a look of fear
Do I look good enough today?
I asked before I walked out the door.
I don’t what to say
I’ve done this before
I’m saddened that I have to do this.
I’m always afraid there is one flaw that I’ll miss.
Society is so twisted
The problems with it are too numerous to even be listed.
We complain that the skinny girls are too tiny
And that the big girls need to lose some weight
We’ve all been taught that we have to hate.
I despise having to look in the mirror and worry about what to wear
Or how to fix my hair
I’m the same person whether I’m wearing makeup or not.
But without it I worry about all the disgusted glances I’ll be shot.
No one ever worries about what’s within
We only care about judging who’s too thin,
Or who’s got the double chin.
The definition of beauty is up to us.
Before we become a naysayer
We should break through to the inner layer
It’s our decision
We all just need to realize that we need to adjust our vision.

I had a dream last night,
I never have dreams.
I dreamed of home.
I dreamed of the stars
I dreamed of the future
I dreamed of a time,
when I will dream the dreams
I've been longing to dream.
I dreamed of a time,
when my dreams would come true.
They don't though.
They aren't prophetic
They are few and far between
"Let Us Dream"
Please,
that's all I ask, every night before bed.
It's amazing, how much power a single dream at night can mean,
to a daydreamer.