i love the cold rain
because when it is raining
no one knows you cry

excited like a newborn
sneaky like a child
worried like a adult
and my heart is still wild.

but my smile marks the place
where i found the strength
to keep on crawling

we harm the flowers we think are most beautiful
to add to our hair
to make ourselves seem more beautiful
we harm others who we think have the potential to be better
to make them appear worse
to make ourselves seem more beautiful
to those of you who are bullied
you are just a beautiful flower to them

poetry isn't written by people who are depressed
it is written by people who have found art in their emotions

such worry i once had
is now pouring down
if i keep on swimming
then i may just drown

i walk the same path every day
yet i can never find my home
i'm with the same group every day
yet i am always alone
i sing this lonely song
to find myself high or low
so i pray to god
that he will send me my angel

to be a writer
you have to be bored
and trap yourself in your own mind
you have to think your way out of the box you are locked in
so you write
you become someone else
someone more intelligent
more capable
ink flows with their blood
as you become them
you feel their pain
and become addicted to it
so you give them some more
and it becomes too much for you to handle
but you can't stop
so you share it
share it with other people who absorb the pain like drugs
who are addicted like alcoholics
as you write
you begin to find yourself
you find that you really are addicted
and how unhealthy it is
so you try to make it better
you started writing as a way to escape
but now it's your own cage that you painted
you really do make it better
it's not as satisfying as the pain
but you are free
and as you drift off
finally out of your enclosure
you experience withdrawals
you unconsciously pick up our pen and journal
and begin scribbling again
it's simply a nesting doll of boxes that you can't escape
and then once you realize
that writing is the key to this endless loop of relief and pain
and you accept it
that's when you become a writer

you're being blinded by her

i used to love you

your love is killing me

i'm trying to be happy

she's a beauty
the midnight of stars with a stream of galaxy
she's breathtaking
as breathtaking as the shower of gold
she's a mystery
like the deep waters, dark and dangerous
she's platinum
precious that doesn't rust away

they make moving on sound so easy
but all i want to do is grieve for you
why do i try so hard but can't forget you

everything brings of memories
they are so hard to forget
and too precious to let go of

i can smile no longer for you're loss
how can i smile when my world is falling apart
why should i smile if everything i ever smiled for is gone

i'm craving to hear your voice one more time
the have such a melody sooth me once more
it pains me that i will never hear such an angel again

you were like a full moon on a lonely night
all i wanted to do is admire you're light
all i wanted to do was be on the moon

maybe when my grief fades in the future
and the pain of your death doesn't hurt as fresh
i can say, goodbye my love

i remember the first time
i was told to shut up for laughing
it was by my sister

people feared your name
only say it letter by letter
but when compared to them
to me i think you are better

the only lust i have
is the want of something new
the beauty of the world that is buried
behind shallow thoughts of man
i wish to see something i can share
my feelings with
i hope to see something
no one has ever seen before
the only lust i have
is wanderlust

you find out who i really am
a traitor i am indeed
but who will i really betray
whoever i don't need

give me a new name
strip me of my old one
because no matter how you treat me
i don't know where to run

twist my words around me
into what i have never said
think what you want to think
and continue to be mislead

somewhere in my heart,
there might be a little love,
that's shoved behind locked cabinets,
labeled 'pain',
it's shut in a safe,
with the combination of 'regret',
it's in my library of secrets,
along with 'mistakes', 'happiness', and 'tears',
it's hidden behind the muscles of steel,
that keep my heart pounding,
every time i think about this forbidden word,
one day,
if i ever get past the bronze edge of my tongue,
i might be able to think about,
"love".

blame me for you troubles
because i run away
but you should have known
i was never here to stay

my tears mark the place
where i fell down
and could never get up again

i want to write more poetry but the words refuse to leave
i'm terrified that they might become what used to make me pleased

i believed every scribble i drew on paper in pen was art
"it's my poetry, who cares about verse, form, rhythm, and heart?"

i assigned too much meaning to all the juvenile words
instead of searching for the words that are ones worth working for

i continuously thought that my first drafts were perfection
always finished with each one after being newly written

i labeled meaningless writing as simply ambiguous
to call my work poetry was such a misdiagnosis

when i poured out my heart
and got pain in return
i loved too deep
god, i never learn
i cry my tears forever
to no one's concern
and i am betrayed
the angry pain that burns

how am i supposed to forget about you
when the possibility of rekindling what we had still lingers
i’m scared to let go
in case you haven’t yet
and we can salvage what we have left

i can open my mouth
but never speak my heart

i write broken poetry
yet it never  sounds like art

i try to face my problems
but i can never start

there's a war in my chest
and it's tearing me apart

sadness is my closest friend
even though we never meet
he's somehow always there for me
when i'm fighting through defeat
his soothing tones drive me close
to my insanity
and although i don't call him
he still waits for me

my hair is as dark as the days when i believed that nobody would ever love me

my eyes are as deep as the water i tried to drown in

my lips are as red as the blood that spilled from my wrist

my skin kissed by the summer sun i always hated

slowly

i became my own nightmare

Emory Austin once said
Sometimes there won't be
a song in your heart
Sing it anyways
but what if  i'm not given
the voice
to sing it?

i'm fated to be evil
but that can't be right
if i was meant to be darkness
i wouldn't be so bright

i made my rash promises
and you made your broken ones
you made a fool out of me
i guess only fools would fall for you

destruction can be screams and cries
but it's even worse in exchanged lies

i can't stand to hear your voice
because another whispers
in the safe conceals of a shadow
you other meaning
as easily interpreted as the looks
of your face that speaks otherwise
the way you always look left to walk right
or look happy when you're angry
luring me closer and closer
revealing everything once i'm too close to back away
the eclipse speaks as though i am some monster
too late
i realized this twilight's voice was my own

Lay a kiss upon my cheek,
Bring me to the unknown,
Because the world is a cruel place,
As people’s actions have shown.

my heart wrapped in chains
for just a little bit longer
when i was released and healed
my heart was just a bit stronger

i let you go,
made you hate me.
your beauty and kindness
why couldn't i see
that you love me so much
but i don't know why
now that you're gone
it's my turn to cry

i clutch a handful of sand in my palm
it feels so soothing when i am without a qualm
when things are slow, every grain stays in place
but it's harder to hold when i quicken my pace
i grip tighter as my panic lingers
but some sand begins to slip through my closed fingers
the more i try, the less i can contain
i am only helpless as i watch the sand drain
if only i could have another hand
but i can do nothing about the running sand

the first time an online boy confessed to me
it scared me
how he read between the banter to find something that wasn't there and i
was blind to it
i thought we could continue like this forever
static
and nothing would change
because change is scary
when this boy told me he liked me
i remembered that he was a person
not just some account mirroring my words, devoid of feeling
free from extracting meaning from nothing
like people so often do

perhaps, while i talked to him, i forgot i was a person too
people are scary
and to remember that i am a person is to remember that i have parts of myself that i am terrified of
talking to this online boy
i wasn't burdened by that
i was everything aspirational
cool, witty, silly but just the right amount to be respected

i've talked to more online people since
and i've had more boys confess to me since
it gets easier but it never gets less sad
i had never learned to lower my expectations and remember that these online people.... are people

at some point, i came to expect it
rip the bandaid off early
i don't care if it hurts

well, i do care if it hurts
but i never remember that until i am hurt

i dig for any information about these people
i'm sorry i am so impulsive but i cannot stand to continue loving myself and loving the people i talk to
knowing that some day, i cannot

so i see it
i see their full name
i see that they're a college student at a state university only a few hours from me
i see that they have lives outside of direct messages
i see that they have a face
they're not bad looking
they look pretty nice, in fact
but i want to forget it

people are scary
when you see a friend's face for the first time
it reminds you that they're a person
and that
is the saddest feeling in the world

i never liked pain
yet i fell in love with it

they ask me
what is depression like?
they later leave me alone
going with other people
and i curl up in my bed
and cry
that is my depression
the cold feeling that settles around me like a cloud
watching them
when my tears are condensed into fog
clouding my eyes
all i want to do is to see clearly
i'm trapped in a hallway
with no end
i'm running and running from my depression
i feel nothing
when i suddenly fall
the dread that hangs around me all day

they don't notice
my fake smiles and teary eyes
my gloom hidden behind a mask of unfeeling
that
to me
is my depression

if nothing gold can stay this way then nothing dead remains
for every stump or carcass laid will fade into the plains.
so while i walk in solitude as bare paths form behind,
the promises of lush green fields will always come to mind.
but even wildest of lands will require some care,
without, no glimpse of gold or green will e'er dare to appear.
last, one must know that all thriving fields will arrive with time;
all that's past and passed will decompose for meadows sublime.

my melody is the very color of the paint
that fills the sky with blue
my lyrics are the air that i breath
as the winds flow along with beauty
and my voice is the one star in the sky
standing out to brighten a lonely night

her skin is gleaming and gold
as precious as her smile
her eyes are brown with specks of green
like the first leaves of spring
she radiates growth
like mother nature herself
she is an everlasting rose
vibrant and sweet