It's hard to be happy sometimes.
I mean everyone can be happy just about most the time.
But it's the whole trying to keep that happiness going that hurts.
I mean a runner can only run for so long.

theres something in your eyes
i didnt see an second before

something to the way you curl your lips
something to the way you grip my waist when we dance
something to the way you flash your devilish grin at me after a wink

is there something on your mind?

is it to do with the way you rake me up and down while i dance?
or the fact i saw something white at the bottom of my glass before i drank it down?

i only met you a few minutes before
and you seemed nice enough when you bought me a drink

only now you dont seem so nice when i blink once more
and im no longer dancing or laughing with my friends

im lying in a cold dark room with my clothes torn
and bruises on my legs as though i had a horrific battle

and the sickening feeling im not quite what i was a few minutes ago

there's something about her
you just cant figure out

she runs with her legs
slightly wobbling
she comes last in her whole year
yet she smiles like shes
won the olympics

she falls over
she runs into trees
and falls over while
scraping her knees
and despite the sting
she grins

she gets back her
maths test and came
last in the year
yet she is laughing
with stitches in her sides

her mother just
yelled at her for something
that happened at school
with some girls kicking her
when she hit back she was
the one who got detention
yet she sits in her room
giggling about a boy in her year
with her best friend on the phone

she laughs
she smirks
she grins
and chuckles
at life around her

did anyone notice
the red stains on her sleeves?

im a mess,
lying on my bathroom floor,
its cold
and its wet
but that fact i feel that at all
makes me stay where i am
the cold reminds me
of an hour before
but even then
i still couldn't get that off my mind
even if i were in my bed wrapped warm and whole
i would never forget
her hands in yours
pulling you down a winding path
in the other direction of the what i
thought was our home
your eyes shone with glee
raking her up and down
in that short red dress
despite the cold whipping wind
snapping at my cheeks
that were freshly streaked
with all the promises you made
all the soft touches you gave
all the long nights we shared
in what i thought was our bed
in what i thought was our home
in what i thought was true love
in our love
but i was wrong
and now
like the time before i met you
im a mess once more

in the life we experience
there is one thing that is certain
which is death.

each thing, everything,
will come to an ultimate demise
and in which they will no longer exist
and everything they achieved
loved and cared for
is eventually forgotten
and no one remembers who sonnet 18 is written about.

because humanity is selfish,
we care for only ourselves and those who are too close
but even then we forget those ones as well.
and we forget who they were
what they were like
what they did
and if the area around their eyes crinkled or not when they smiled


everyone has a choice in this world, to either do great things,
or to forget those who did them.
everyone remembers the president,
but who remembers the name of the school teacher who gave her life for 16 children three years ago?

its like a tap,
that's broken and
wont stop dripping
the sound of it driving
you to near insanity
with every splash
drip
drip
drip
every time i remember
you're gone its like
another drip from
that tap
drip
and i try my hardest
to shut it off
i hold and tug
and twist and pull
but it just drips more
and more
and i cant stop it
because it is my constant anger,
pain
and frustration you're gone
and i cant get you back

hidden in the shadows
i sit
i wait
and i hope

with this small candle
i hold close to my chest
t you'll see it in the flashes of light.

the flashes that
almost blind you
to what is mistaken
for love,
happiness and
a happy way of life

but under the flaring colors,
the luring words
and seductive lips
sits the sad ones.

the ones who wish to extinguish
the small flame
we had so long ago,
the flame i so dearly
wish to roar
to grow
and to consume those who tear us apart
in its burning, enclosing embrace.

but it is but a mere
flicker in the shadows,
compared to the flashes of light
surrounding you in what i know
will be our end

heres to her
for letting her sorrow
swallow her up,
for you

heres to her for for telling
you shes okay when shes not,
for you

heres to her for being there
you when she broke your heart,
for you

heres to her for keeping your
horrid secrets from your parents
and betraying hers,
for you

heres to her for dying each night
just so she could see you smile the next day

she does this all for you and all
you can do is drag her in

with your begging and pleading
to not leave you,

and then watches you kiss her again,
tomorrow in the spot you told her
you loved her

and in the same place you said goodbye
she made hers final

on that cold night
i remember us lying in the dark
hands encasing each others
heart beats louder then
the rustle of the trees around us.

we laid there wondering what
tomorrow would bring for the two of us
if the world knew you were mine
if the world knew i belonged to you
entirely

what would happen then?

your body is your home
decorate it as you wish
to fit you and who you are

i know there is things on your home
you dont want me to see
you wear long sleeves in summer
and wear long shorts at the beach

but each time your jumper slips
or your skirt flips up
and your marks are for all to see

just remember that despite every effort
that you make to hide your home
to hurt your home and to
make your home not the prettiest

i will think of it as a mansion
i think of you as a burning star
in the darkest of nights

i see every scar and each time i do
i whisper i love you and to please
stay
stay,

stay.

you make my heart runaway
it sprints at the sight of you
i run to catch up to it
to hold it dear and keep it safe
but im too late
i watch you rip it apart with a grin

dropping the tattered bits to the ground,
i run to hold them in my hands
to try to save what you destroyed

trying to block a person
from entering your heart
is like trying to stop the sun from rising
eventually you realise that
they will stay and impact you
in one of the hundreds of kinds
of ways a person can impact you.

either they will simply cross by it
and you will barely notice them at all
or like a slice of a knife to your skin,
they will scar and remain a part of you
till your skin turns to dust and are
below the dirt with a stone above you

would one walk among the clouds
and feel as though heaven were
a mere step higher up to the clouds
or to stare down and wonder if they
were to get there quicker by stepping
away from their safe net above the earth

if we were to  use hands and hearts
instead of guns and blood to save our world
what would humanity remain to be at the end of the day?

and like the water,
i run free,
through the cracks and crevices
that you could not cover up or block'
i flow through the walls for what
they could not protect
to the treasure that i claim as your heart.