Skin made of frost
Hair made of snow
Thought to be lost
But only she knows

Dashes around
Quick as her fox
Never is bound
But destiny knocks

The cold gives life
It pumps her heart
Never caused strife
Love tore her apart

It took her down
Though she was warned
She falls and drowns
When a child is born

And as she melts
Without the cold
She knew she felt
What she had been told

and sometimes she thought
all her life had ever wrought
was a thickened plot

and tied in a knot
she wondered if she would rot
every time she fought

and she was distraught
that she might never be caught
she was always fraught

and she hadn't taught
herself all the things she ought
so sickness she bought

He thumps in your chest
Never stops to rest
Beat and beat
From head to feet
Keeps you going
Keeps blood flowing
Pumps life in you
'Til your life is through

Despite his cause
He recieves no applause
For he's to blame
For all our pain
But is that true
If only we knew
The anatomical heart
Isn't the one tearing us apart

He does his job
Doesn't blab his gob
And yet we gloat
On our scapegoat
We point our flaws
Against all laws
And he is the defendant
Still we are so dependant

He says, "I'm full of reason.
I've comitted no treason.
If you feel drained,
Accuse the brain.
She always gets away with it.
It makes me want to have a fit.
She toys with your emotions.
I've created no commotion."

Feeling comes from our mind
So next time try to be kind
Because the atomical heart
Is an important body part
And you wouldn't want to beat it down
Then one day find that it has drowned
In your false accusations
Made by your frustrations

His voice is the wind in the trees
It is the ocean crashing on the soft sand
His voice is the sweet, sweet breeze
Brushing up against my cold hand.

His life is a shining star
It breathes the life into my lungs all day long
His life keeps my hear in a jar
Holding all my dearest tears.

My love is a hurricane
It keeps me held down out of the fear of shame
My love brings me only pain
For my lover does not feel the same.

She was a volcano waiting to erupt;
She was a hurricane barely kept off the shore.
And when she fell to the ground,
And shattered into a thousand shards of hurt,
They did not understand why
Because she had become so good at hiding.
They told her to keep it together
And she followed their orders well.
She kept her feelings hidden from the world.
And after a while, it became too hard,
So she started to keep her feelings from herself.
And after a while, she became confused.
She didn’t remember how to feel anything;
She didn’t remember if she could.
And everyone else thought she was fine.
They applauded how well they thought she was doing.
But they did not know what they had done.
They trapped her in a cage and bolted the gate,
Not caring if the rusty bars tore her flesh,
And she sank along the wall as she tried to catch
A gulp of air polluted by the words of others.
She listened as they chanted their rhymes
About stick and stones as she thought about
All her broken bones.
They didn’t understand why she was lonely
When a swarm of people came at her
From every side of her body.
But she felt like a whale in a school of clown fish.
They told her to be herself
But she knew deep down that
That was the last thing they wanted her to be.
She let them pour her into a mold
That they wanted everyone to fill,
But when she got worn out of being numb
She couldn’t remember how to feel.
She tried to feel something, anything,
Even if it was pain,
But she couldn’t remember how.
It had become too late.

Green smudges on a child's knees
As he falls into the grass
After playing in the trees

Dirt puddles on a child's pants
From rolling in the soil
But no one takes a second glance

Grass stains and mud spots
The wounds of a child's play
Maybe if our scars were only that
We'd all be okay

One week left
'til school starts
One week left
'til I fall apart

Preparations begin
for sleepless nights
Frustrations give in
to haunting frights

Anxiety skyrockets
in my weary mind
Checking all my pockets
to see if I can find

Time

*Just a little bit longer
Of having sanity as an option

The clouds are passing quickly
Too fast to say hello
The world is rushing past me
And I'm still stuck in slow-mo

I just want to sleep, but I fear my dreams
That always carry me to startling extremes
Where tears and blood flood the streams
Where air's polluted with children's screams

Sometimes, I briefly feel nicer things
I'll feel like a bird with feathered wings
But then I'll remember the puppet strings
And all the turmoil that they bring

Then, at times, I remember nothing at all
And I wake up feeling like a limp rag doll
Staring blankly at an empty wall
Without motivation even to crawl

Occasionally I inquire what it'd be like to be
A mind as shallow as those around me

They never think of anything unusual
Nothing that they haven't heard before
Nothing they aren't told to, nothing crucial
They never search for keys to unopened doors

How boring it must be to live in such a brain
Where imagination simply doesn't exist
Where all that they dream up is purely plain
And nothing ever has an unexpected twist

They don't ask questions that don't have answers
They can't stand stillness and never stop to ponder
All that they speak is meaningless banter
They refuse to open their minds to galaxies of wonder

But every once in a while I get curious
Until I'm quickly reminded of their invariance

Silent waves, sparkling sea,
Happiness and plunder,
It all turns to gloom and doom,
As I realize: we're going under.

Overboard! Overboard!
Try and learn to swim!
Sharks and fish,
Make a wish,
As you're slapped by fins.

Crying, praying,
Trying, fraying,
Way to take a chance.
Up 'til now you had no clue,
Life was so precious.

Now it grows dark and dreary,
Farther that you sink.
Until now, you've held your breath,
But you let it go and wonder:
Should I have given up just now,
Or tried a little harder?

I stepped on the scale the other day.
It startled me in an unpleasant way.
What the number was, I'd rather not say.
Doesn't seem like you'd care anyway.

But it bothered me, and I know why.
Not the weight on my *** or thighs,
But the weary look inside my eyes,
As I gaze in the mirror, pinch my flesh, and sigh.

Effortlessly, I lose my appetite,
Without putting up any kind of fight.
My insides grumpled through the night,
But I refuse to take a bite.

My therapist thinks it's about control,
Something deeper within my soul.
The hunger makes me feel more whole,
But it slowly begins to take its toll.

I learned to enjoy the weakening pain,
Feeling the blood slow in my veins,
Any movement, a forceful strain,
But it makes sense inside my brain.

Feeling cold in a warm room is a success,
But I am not quite able to express,
Why I keep coming back, why I regress,
When I feel the slightest stress.

There's a place I  visit in the back of my mind
It doesn't exist, but I think they call it "home"
Here I am not so easily bound and confined
And I am free to walk wherever I wish to roam

Wistfully I long for the refreshing rains
Accompanied by soft sunlight and a gentle breeze
That sweeps over the lush, green plains
And fills the forests of sky-scraping trees

The daisies and snapdragons blossom all year
Even when covered in a blanket of pale snow
The vibrant colors make the world seem so clear
And every surface gleams and glows

God's great palette paints the endless sky
Soaring beyond the horizon are birds in flight
The clouds are tinted, dipped, and dyed
And fade as stars encompass the night

If you're special, I might imagine you there
But I usually travel by myself, all alone
Where I can breathe in the fresh, sweet air
In the safest and most freeing place I've ever known

The only problem with my hideaway and escape
Is that it is indeed a hopelessly false reality
I plead to see its likes in any form or shape
But must abandon my grave irrationality

What a wondrous delight!
We have conquered the night!
Oh, this glorious light,
Has driven off our fright!

But- gosh golly- oh my!
Have you seen the bright sky?
Do not worry or sigh,
For today, we will fly!

In the clouds, we will soar!
High up, above the moor!
Oh, how the sea will roar,
When we're far past the shore!

Come now, and please do follow!
There's not time tomorrow!
Do not sit and wallow,
But fly like the swallow!

Fly now, my bird,
**For we shall never know
When the skies will close.

Sometimes when I look in the mirror
I feel like I am not what I see
The whole world might run in terror
If they were to truly see me

See, all I do is live in this shell
This isn't who I really am
I only need a dark place to dwell
This show I give is just a sham

I'm not a lump of organs and flesh
That eats and walks and ***** in breath
With this body, I can't seem to mesh
Maybe that's why I do not fear death

In my conscious mind is where I live
Trapped here inside my aching skull
If you would see what I have to give
I may no longer seem so dull

It's not my brain that's the hurricane
It's only me, a parasite
Here inside this host of cellophane
Always in invisible plight

I often want to tell you,
But, you see, I'm too afraid.
So I go and live my life
The host of a masquerade.
One day, I'll lie in my grave
Buried by the earth and *****.
Regret things I never said
And all the mistakes I made.

*Words left unspoken
Will bury you alive.

While tending to the wounds of others
Crowded emotions seem to smother
Used as a distraction from our own pain
And happens to work out for others' gain
On the inside all we feel is void
Until we are completely destroyed
So do not get lost in the raging flood
And drown in your own pool of blood

When I am near
I lose my breath
In a swift movement

When I am gone
I lose my breath
In a slow suffocation

Both are excruciating
But I can't seem to decide
Which is worse

What am I to tell my soul,
When the stars are out of reach?
What am I to tell my heart,
When they don’t want my touch?
What am I to tell my mind,
When I can’t understand what’s wrong with me?
What am I to tell my body,
When I can’t feel anything anymore?
What am I to tell you,
When you ask me what’s wrong?
What am I to tell the world,
When they expect achievements?
What am I to tell my soul.
When the stars are out of reach?

Her name was embroidered on his fragile heart
Only thin stitches kept him from falling apart
The thousands of needle ****** couldn't compare
To the agony he felt when she was not there
His aorta was lined with little yarn knots
That made her fill and clutter all of his thoughts
As the thick blood passed through it got stuck in the thread
And he could not forget a single word that she said
And so a blood clot formed and he fell in love
She was now something he could never be free of

Ring around the rosie
Red inflamed circles of hurt
Keep them hidden deep because
People are terrified
That pain is contagious

Pocket full of posies
Show the world only beautiful things
Because everything comes with strings
And they don't want to see
The truth and harsh reality

Ashes, ashes
Burn your faults and burn your fears
So that no one will ever find them here
Put on a mask to hide your melted face
So that no one will ever see your disgrace

We all fall down*
Don't ever let them see you trip
Though we all do the same and rip
The only difference between us is our names
For we are *all hiding our shame

Don't cry, don't cry
Not now, not here
Don't let them see it anywhere
Hold your breath and count to ten
Then slowly let it out again
Point your chin up to the sky
Look up and then wipe your eyes
Put a cork in it
No one wants to see
How you're hurting
How you feel

As I close my drooping eyes
I slip into a world
Where time has come to a halt
And everything is still

I was in a room that had three walls
All stretching to the sky
The walls didn't have a color
Visible to the eye

On two walls there were windows
On one wall there was a door
At my feet a doormat
Was resting on the floor

It gave no “welcome” greeting
It sent no sweet “goodbye”
The rug gripping my trembling feet
Only made me sigh

The two windows seemed so silent
Until I carefully approached
I quietly reminded myself
That I shouldn't dare encroach

As I look into these windows
The timeline stretches on
There were visions of things to be
And things that were forgone

I looked over my left shoulder
To the window at my side
The glass was tinted as a rose
On the things I saw, I bide

Sights of memories long since past
Flood into my aching mind
Feelings of nostalgia
I’m always trying to find

I liked what I saw so very much
But I was very curious to see
What was in the other one
But when I looked to my right, I saw me

It’s true this was a mirror
But it wasn't what I thought
When I looked at my reflection
I saw all the things I’m not

My age had increased plenty
I seemed rather fat and old
My face was sagging and sluggish
I didn't fit the mold
I wasn't all that happy
This made me feel so grey
This mirror from a fun house
Wasn't meant for play

Well I turned around again to see
The window I had left
To find a blank and empty wall
Now surely this was theft

I looked again back to my right
Into another wall
Of all the feelings in this room
There were none left at all

I panicked for a while thinking
Where am I going to go?
There’s no way to escape from here
Nothing to guide me home

But then a thought so very vague
Crossed my confused mind
I turned around and saw the door
And realized I’d been blind

I gave the **** a quiet rattle
And the door opened with ease
And once again when I looked through
What I saw was me

But this was not like the mirror
That filled my reflection with dread
I saw myself quietly sleeping
In my warm and cozy bed

The windows had disappeared
They were not what they seemed
For it was then I realized
That this was just a dream

Through the door in front of me
Was the me I am right now
This door was the only option
That was to be allowed

So I stepped over the threshold
To be united as one
By my mind and body together
This battle had been won

**I viewed the past as beauty
And looked to the future with fear
But always lived in the present
For that was what was near

Why do I like poetry?
The answer isn't easy.
I've never been good at explaining.
To me, it always seemed so draining.

Well, you see,
Poetry is good to me.
I've never been good at conversation.
I always have too many hesitations.

I can express how I feel.
I am free to be real.
I've never been good at opening up.
My walls are far too thick to touch.

But somehow rhyme,
Puts a hold on time.
And I feel so liberated
And a little less frustrated.

Since I'm impaired in verbal communication,
It seems that poetry has been a useful innovation.
These words are easily writable,
Yet make me feel so much less vulnerable.

Poetry is a passionate way to express emotion,
Without causing chaos and commotion.
You can interpret poetry whatever way,
You feel most like this particular day.

Poetry is liberation
Free from condemnation
Poetry rids life
Of all its strife