She remembers the first time she watched him leave
She remembers the way her voice shook as she exhaled
And as she watched him turn the corner
She asked with trembling hands and a fast beating heart,
"Does this ever get easier?"
And no one answered.
She was alone,  
Save for the cold breeze biting at her bones
And the deep purple sky filling her lungs
She closed her eyes.
That was then.
And now,
This is the last time she will ever say goodbye to him.
It's different this time.
A proper goodbye,
Bittersweet and all.
She turns the corner, looking back at him once more
She watches him as she leaves
Drowns in his smile one final time
Listens to the sound of his laughter, although it makes her heart clench
And while she doesn't believe in silver lining,
She thinks that perhaps someone can smooth out the rough edges of life.
Not him.
He warms her up from the inside out
But he burns when she gets too close.
He makes her cheeks turn pink
And her hands blister.
She exhales.
The sands of time flow through her hands,
Days turn to years,
Memories fade,
But the constant flow of time between her fingers is almost comforting
Life moves fast,
And everything has now come to a close
But for the first time in a long time
She thinks she's okay with that.

Free at last, she breathed into the cold night air
Alone in her relief, although she is aware of all who are watching
With her small, strong hands she holds indescribable power
She holds a true kind of freedom,
an everlasting flame that warms her on the coldest nights
She smiles, bright as the stars and real as the ground on which she stands
The air no longer clouds her lungs, but clears them with every inhale
She is no longer lost,
She is found,
Not by a person, but by the universe itself
It holds her tightly with its gentle winds that run through her hair like hands
and soft skies that give her a home no matter where she goes
She relaxes into it's caring embrace, like a child back to her mother
The taste of liberation is sweet on her lips,
Like heavy rain after a drought
Her laughter rings like a bell,
Loud and clear even from miles away
Welcome home,
The universe tells her.
With the cosmos to guide her safely
And the promise of deliverance before her
She takes the first step back home.

I am nothing groundbreaking.
I am not earth shattering.
As a matter of fact, it would be difficult to distinguish me in a crowd
From everyone else.
I will not be anymore signicant than anyone else
When the sun explodes
When the world ends
When the universe shatters
But oh sweet irony,
That I will know all this and continue to believe
Somewhere deep down in my heart,
Where the ignorance in humanity lies
That I am somehow different
That everything I do matters to anyone but me
Simply on the principle that I see the world through my eyes alone.

What does it mean to be human?
Does it mean that your body is flesh and bone?
My body is made of plastic.
What are you made of?
What makes a person whole?
Is it fulfillment? Happiness? Soul?
Whatever the case, I am not whole.
Are you?
Are humans intelligent or ignorant?
I am both.
Which one are you?
Are humans kind or wicked?
I do not know which one I am.
Do you know?
Do humans get to choose who they are?
I have tried to mould myself as best I can, into the person I want to be
Have you?
Are you human?
I am, decidedly, not human.
I am that which I do not know of
I am that which I do not wish to discover
I hope never to know who I am.
Who are you?

He looked like heaven
And smelled like spring turning into summer
And maybe you left because you knew you didn't belong there
Maybe you know your place in the realm of the dead,
You certainly have the ambition to get there
And it feels too much like home, so much so that
You know that you could explore every corner of the universe with him
And never find anywhere like here.
Although the city keeps you up at night,
The sound of people weeping and gnashing their teeth in the streets
You throw yourself into the fire
"Burn me!" You cry, and you are burned.
"Cleanse me!" You wail, and you are made blind
Because there is not way for you to unsee what you have seen,
Except maybe forgetting what the world looks like
Plunged into eternal darkness
With only the scorching, dry heat of the flame
The sound of pain outside your window
And the ghost of the smell of spring turning into summer.
Tell me that you detest the memory of his eyes,
Tell me you do not cling to them like a lifeline.
He is roses and quick fingers.
He is bright eyes and a sharp smile.
He is the scent of spring turning into summer
He is heaven but this is home.

A curious mind cuts the tape on a dust covered box
Hands grasping at memories, that which was lost to the tale of time
Fate plucks something out of the box,
A cassette tape.
He listens to the naive voice of his younger self
He smiles, a fragile, nostalgic thing
And then he hears them,
The shadows that used to haunt the corners of his vision
The monsters that used to lay under his bed and outside of his locked door
His hands grasp for something from now, a piece of the new reality he's created
But all he can feel is dust.
He is not who is used to be
He is no longer scared
He is strong and smiles wide and easily
His voice is steady now and never breaks
His hands don't shake,
His scars are healed
He is different.
But deep in the back of his mind he knows that he is not all that different,
He still locks his doors at night
And flinches at loud noises.
Boxes are sealed shut, and shoved in the back of closets for a reason.
They are filled with little but skeletons and dust.
Open at your own risk.