She floats like a feather
But she has no idea
She's in bad weather
Still she dances like a ballerina
Yet she's the one saving me
When we're together

She makes me feel warm
Dancing in the storm
Doesn't care that I'm warn
She is so good at loving
It's an art form

If the winds of life blow us apart
You will go again from the a start
And I will be left here with the broken heart

Your so pretty
So witty
Your more then I ever could want
The feeling you flaunt
The way playfully taunt
When it come to love you get into the nitty gritty
For ever in my dreams you will haunt

I see you in my reflection
Do you feel this connection
Or just my *******
I don't here a rejection

White orchids, daffodils,
a handful of violet petals
on your grave.
My love I brought all your favorites today.
They match the sky so well,
not like when my world fell apart.
It came crashing in a storm
just like your car that day.
My love, I brought you flowers to say,
it’s over, I’m done
trying to survive alone.
We were okay but now my sky
is forever grey.
So collide with me,
ride with me to
the forever beyond.
Call my name, take my hand,
take me to Never Again Land.
Steal my breath away-
I don’t want it anymore.
My love, I brought you flowers today.
See the flowers on your grave.
I brought you flowers,
*you’ll see.

I sit in the steaming hot water naked and vulnerable, both mentally and physically  to blemishes accumulated on me.
The mental thoughts race back and forth between  my eyes playing and rewinding  back through mistakes I have made.
Remembering the wrong paths that dramatically  changed my history.
As the water rises I feel the anxiety inside my chest making me hyperventilate profusely.
I close my eyes plunging my face into the water, feeling my hair floating over me.
Staying under as I feel the anguish of the misconceptions of my life fall off of me.
coming up as if awakening from the dead, while ceaselessly  stepping out of the ***** water leaving it behind.
I peer into the mirror inhaling the air surrounding.
Slowly wrapping my arms tightly around my body, letting the women in the mirror know I except her.
Telling her I will always love and fight for her.

i'm this close to never talking to him again, but we all know
that will never happen,
he's like the three shots of ***** i knocked back on a thursday,
hot and stinging down my throat,
wishing there was someone else there to keep the warmth going.
i ******* hate the fact
that
he's the first one who made me blush,
before then i never had
but all you have to do is mention him next to me in the car
and my face is a bed of roses.
i'm ******* sick of waiting for a message
any sign that i wasn't just a distraction
a mirage,
any sign that this attraction i'm feeling
is worth it
at all.
i hate the fact, even more,
that he is the closest i've had
to romantic attraction that i can hold in my hands.
that my friends can talk about the boys they've gone through
when i've had this rotten apple core sitting in my stomach
for three years.
and the thing i most hate
is the tingling feeling
of having no one beside me at night
even though i'm fifteen
it's so tangible i can bite it.
i know it's cliche, but
i'm stuck in this hole
this garbage dispenser of no good,
and i've never felt so alone.
i need a new addiction,
so maybe it'll be easier
to quit him.