Every day I fall
Into
darkness
Into
a
deep
dark
pit
The doctors call it
depression
I just say I'm
lost
And
every day
as I fall
I realize that
every
day
could
be
my
last

Sitting here in Spanish
Not caring about estar
I don't want to be here
for two and a half
hours
I want to take a nap
But la maestra will wake me up
So
I
write
instead
And  as I write
I think about poetry
and
music
And I wish I had my iPod
So I could play some
Linkin Park
Lady Gaga
Paramore
owl City
and others
But at least I have
a notebook
So I can put my thoughts
onto
paper

I can't stand this prison
with bars made out of
numbers and equations
I need to escape
Give me
an iron spoon
So I can dig my way out
Give me
a sleeping pill
So I can put
the guard to sleep
Steal the key
Unlock the door
Set me free
C'mon, bell
Hurry up and
                      ring!

So now I’m sitting here thinking
“What is wrong with the world?”
I see people laughing as the bombs go off
They say “Hey, people die every day.”
Well, yeah that’s true, but
why should they die from words and hate?
When peers laugh and jeer,
it hurts those that stand out
And the victims of words become bombs
And when the bombs go off
they join the ranks and march
six feet underground
with whoever was caught in the blast
And the survivors sit and wonder
“Why?”
then laugh again
So I was sitting here thinking
“What is wrong with the world?”
And now I’m thinking
“How can we save it?”

Swell of sound
In my chest
Wash away my fear
Forget life’s test

A voice, clear and smooth
Defining my mind
A cry to be heard
Determined to leave the pain behind

A great collection of sound
To make the emotion perfectly clear
Whether it makes you move your feet
Or provokes you to shed a tear

A song, so sweet,
Is all I need to guide my day
Another song, maybe one more
To help me find my way

A rise of notes

A quickening of breath

A sudden explosion

of sound that never left

my ears.

It still echoes

never leaving my mind

It leaves a terribly beautiful

memory behind.

Ghost of a song

Of sadness, of pain,

of beauty that through music

shall forever reign.

It twirls and spins

through the chasm of my brain.

Wishing on an eyelash, on
a star, on
a candle
Wishing on fragility
A breakable thing, a
fly-away thing, a
blow-out thing
Wishing for a dream, a
promise, a
love
Wishing for for better things,
Impossible things,
fairy wings,
magic
Wishing is fragile,
breakable,
something to be lost,
Floating
Wishing is hoping,
and hope is
what saves us

Here is a rose

It grows and grows,

an exquisite blossom blushing red

The blossom wilts

It dies and dies,

warm blush decaying brown

The petals fall,

dirt stained with blood.

Curious thing,

fluttering wings

Shedding dust

like iron sheds rust

Under glass dome

Ding-****, ding-****

But this bell does not toll

The only sound is wings against glass

Tap-tap, tap-tap, crystal sound

Big blue wings, curious things,

Why are they so blue?

The pen swirls a net to try and catch

The blue that fills the glass room

The drawing is done

Pointy silver, topped with a sphere,

comes out to play

The wings flutter, flutter, flutter

Fall still

New glass, flat sheet

Like ice on the road

No longer a soundless bell

Inside of which is trapped

a beauty

Unable to escape

Never to be set free

Flattened under ice-sheet glass

Curious thing,

Museum thing,

No more fluttering wings.

Is a rose a rose?

Nobody knows

what hides beneath those petals

Bloodstained

Smells like rust, like dust

and death

Sweet fragrance

Sharp thorn to ***** your finger

and send you spiraling down

into darkness

Falling

Shadows beneath

every sweet-smelling petal

Stained with blood

With death, with fear

Beautiful mask, nothing more

Underneath, nightmares sleep

Tucked under death-scented sheets

They wear that fragrance,

A sweet perfume

And when they bite you,

You smell it, too