I still wish someone would save me.

She was every star that lit up the night sky
She was the grass that grew over feilds of green
She was the moon that brightened the darkest hour
She was the rivers flowing over rocks like nothing touched them
She was the trees growing upon the forest
She was the ocean tides changing with time
She was the soul of a tiger with a heart full of fear and love
She was the love that filled the morning air

She will be in our hearts forever till death takes us over and brings us back to her.

We sit at the table with joined hands
And say grace
But then you sit there and say what your thankful for.
Are we thankful that this so called "god" gave us this life?
Are we thankful that he's put us through hell with tied hands that can't do anything?
Are we thankful that he gave us situations where we were supposed to be strong but he let us break?
Why should we be thankful for a god who doesnt exist for a life we dont wish we had.
We are the kids who sit at tables with joined hands but open eyes with tears starting to form because we are not thankful.

He was a sunday evening sunset
He was the song of early morning birds
He was the light shining through windows in morning hush
He was the breath taking moments of life

&

I was the pooring rain on a friday night
I was the hushed tones of voices that carried throught darkness
I was the ocean with its constant crashing waves
I was the horrible scream of silence surrounded by a crowded room

His life was to beautiful to love a sad dark world like mine.

At this time last year i was in love
I was happy
I felt free
I thought i belonged
My heart was whole
And i was a person

Now, at this moment
I am alone
I cant seem to smile
I feel contained
I am an outcast
My heart is shattered in pieces across the floor, like broken glass
And now, i cant tell the difference,
If im a monster
Or if im just invisible.

I got lost one day,
Lost in my own head.
It was full of old memories, and stories.
Like walking down memory lane,
Watching smile after smile pass.
I saw a memory when i was little laughing and playing with the flowers.
Being a child, not a care in the world, no pain on my shoulder, no sadness on my face, just a child. Laughing and smelling the roses.
Then i saw myself and i was sitting on the edge of a grave stone,
Pulling on a cigarette.
I looked older less like myself,
Like grief has aged me in places that took away my youth.
I walked a little closer and saw that i was sitting on my own grave,
Taking one last drag of my cigarette.