Stranger,
Why won't you look at me?
With those piercing blue eyes
parting that pale, beautiful skin.
Like a sea-
parting the sand.

Stranger,
Why won't you turn my way?
With a brush of that platinum hair
on that harsh jawline.
Like a field of wheat-
tickling the striking sky.

Stranger,
Why won't you smile at me?
With that quiescent smirk
surfacing on those pale pink lips.
Like a sunset-
just starting to sink behind the trees.

Stranger,
Why won't you gaze at me?
Like the way-
  I gaze at you.

Stranger,
Make me feel beautiful.
Make me feel noticed.
Make me feel-

Worth It.

Stranger,
Your walking away.
As if you haven't just crushed a heart.
A soul.

Stranger,
*Look at me.

Keep pulling the strings,
Harder.
I've grown accustomed
To the painful yanking.

Take my shoulders
And tug them astern.
Back rigid as a board,
So as to never run blissfully.

Heave my head up.
Neck indefinitely stiff.
I'll never be able to gaze
Down at the flowers.

Wrench my lips further.
Cheeks excruciatingly tight.
So that I may amicably smile,
At people I'd rather frown.

Extract my laugh out from within.
Lungs enervated from
Emanating becoming laughs.
Which animate these artificial
Kings and Queens,
When I genuinely desire
To spill their crowns.

Force the tears back from my eyes.
As I stand reduced to a creature
In a frivolous sideshow.

Defeated.
Degraded.
Destroyed.


Master.
I do not despise you.
Neither pity myself.
You cannot dodge inheritance.
You cannot hide from the strings.

For we are born Puppets.
And become the Puppeteers.

"Not good enough."
"Your annoying."
"Don't be a ***** up."
"Do it or end up a failure."

To them they are words.
To me they are a gunshot,
To my brain,
To my heart.
Meaningless nonsense to others
Is an all too real battle cry to me.
I hear the cannons in my head.
I panic,
So I run.

And I never stop.

I cry,
I scream,
I hurt,
I hit,
Until I can't run anymore.
Until I fall and fail.

"You should be nervous."
"This does not cut it."
"God, your slow."
"Didn't meet my expectations."

If they are meaningless to you
Why aren't they meaningless to me?
I've been stabbed with a sword
And the commands cry out,
"Do Something, Your Pathetic!"
I hear the cannons in my head.
I panic,
So I run.

And I Never Stop.

I bleed,
I sob,
I agonize,
I grieve,
Until I can't run anymore.
Until I fall and fail.

I may fall,
But I never stop,
No rest.
The cannons are never too far away to hear.
So I pick myself up once more.

I am a one man army.
So I run.

*And I Never Stop.