We're all scared of the world so we hide in our box,
I'm terrified of all of you so I maintain my locks,
But when shadows come I wear Christmas socks,
So I guess there's still hope, I haven't forgot,
It'll be Christmas soon, and until then I'll have my socks

i only write in the middle of the night
while the stars watch me
waste ink of blood
dripping from the veins of my brain

i only write in the middle of the night
while the moon guards me
as i write the message of my soul to the universe
solely dug from my heart

and suddenly everything comes back to reality
the sun sets high
illuminating the pitched black sky
and i wonder,
will i ever enjoy the daylight
while carrying the burdens i hold inside



a.t.

He is a poet
And everybody knows it
Though sometimes they can be a little hard;
He gives them wordings
As easy as is speaking
And does it with pride and truly without regard.

As I open the door

The cold engulfs me first
raising hairs on my neck, shivers down my spine, prickles on my scalp

Next the smell
so mild, pleasant, crisp. similar to rain or dew
my lungs take in this air for the first time

The light begins to peek over the mountains
clearing the fog, cutting away the dark

The quiet is both a comfort and an uneasiness
Only the earth under my feet whispers as I walk the dirt path

The lake unblemished, like a mirror for the sky to look upon
no wind, no waves, no life

standing there, absorbing the surroundings
I am the one to break the silence, to shatter the utopia
as I drop the pebble in the waters…

these ripples go on                                                              *­Forever

I am a bisexual, crazy teenage girl
I dream about horses and bears,
I like long hot baths, but cold showers
I am wild about snow and cold
I'll do any dare anyone ever asks
(I've never turned down a dare)
I have seen crazy **** from my parents
I have heard crazy **** from them too
I love morning cartoons,
And I love breakfast for dinner
I like running my *** off
(Or whatever much of an *** I have)
I'll do anything to prove I'm as good as a boy
I consider myself daring as ****
I'm a terrible writer, with a dream
I just want to be kissed,
(Even though I'm just warming up to it)
I have emotional connections to horses
I have cut myself on my wrists, thighs, and stomach
I think I am extremely unattractive
I miss my long hair
I'll do anything to make someone smile

The art of the written word is everything.
Each letter is a tune,
A dance of the pen on paper,
The ink, the mark of a masterpiece.
Your brain connects to the pen
And they become one thing.
Thoughts are words not yet written,
Written words are those not yet spoken,
And whomever can harness both,
Is an artist

Hey, celebrate the loser
not just the victor
it's OK that you don't always win
like the time
your little sister could find the answer
to a Year 10 math question
and you couldn't do it
though you were older

it's OK...to be a loser, not a winner always
like the time you argued and argued
and turned out you were wrong
but you just slipped away quietly
and you've suppressed it in your memory

it's OK if you don't have stories
to tell of your victories always
and how others were wrong
and you were right
or others have no principles and ethics
how you are the 90%winner
or everyone else is ******* the planet
it's OK to be the loser
and to celebrate the loser in you
and I don't say this
because of some liberating paradox like
winners start from being losers -
but simply it's OK to celebrate losing
just losing oneself in the loser
Have no other thought in the moment -
*it's OK to celebrate the loser

I outfitted my worn-out clothes
Then in the far mirror, I see myself
I look behind the old me
Look pass the masked he wears,
Staring…  

After what seems like a few seconds,
I finally asked him;

“Have I neglected you?”

He didn’t answer…
A single tear fell in his left eye
And then I understood…

“I am sorry, I let you stay behind
masked for too long
muffled you for quite some time.
We all know society is cruel place to be.
We need to be strong and I needed to be stronger.
It was for our sake.
But then it was just me being a coward
                            - afraid to faced reality.

Now look at us, we’re both crying for the decisions
we’ve made long ago. It was not your fault,
I’m to blame with all of this crap.
I made you do it, I convinced you with my
Fears. And I am truly sorry for that.”

I break down into sobs. He simply hugs me, not saying anything.
Then he fades away.

I dried away the tears I shed
And found something,
     a feeling I never knew he give.
I found forgiveness.
I was able to forgive myself
From the things I did.
To stay past the past mistake,
To face the new kinda old me…

Then I realized;
It is important to forgive yourself
To be able to move forward.





written 09/27/2014
*© Pax