It’s tough to be kind
when one is alone,
for life seems best
when shared with the other;

To cherish the story
of one not your own
is a pure devotion
to the living heart.

Sacred silence,
sanctuary,
sword held to the sky,
marking
some obscure signal,
some obscure sign.

Sphere of liquid
Gaia holds,
a nursery of fish,
decoration
for the lorn,
the love-held way
of late.

There are so many people
Who think that they know me
But no one actually knows me
I don’t know me
When I look in the mirror,
I don’t see myself
I see what everyone thinks I am
Happy, good life, good friendships
But really,
No one in this world understands me
Not even myself

Over time
After so much pain
Heartbreak
People I love not being there for me
I’ve learned how to feel pain
And though it doesn’t hurt any less
Each time it feels
A bit more ok
Everytime
My anxiety spikes
And paralyses me from the inside-out,
I realize sooner
That it is all for nothing,
And it will fade away soon enough
Because I know what I’ve been through
And I know that I can get through
Whatever life throws at me
Because I am strong
And with every painful moment
Every heartbreak
Every time
That someone I love isn’t there for me
I will
Become stronger
Stronger than I ever was before

Stars prickle the darkness
counterpoints to measure its vastness
they steal eyes and gift wonderment  
allow birth of dream and scientific torment
they witness and receive wishes,
they exist yet
many are no longer in existence
the closest is only seen in its loneliness
yearning to shed the veil of blue

Tens of Hen in a Pen
Waiting for their chance to come

Chance to breathe some nice fresh air
Chance to enjoy the joy of freedom

No, No, No, nothing like that
Is going to happen for the hens

I am sure their turn will come
Which will cause their ugly Death

They will get killed one by one
And become nice food for some

my parents chose a name for me that means
shedding too much skin was inevitable.
they worked alongside my brain to convince me
that this body was always meant to be destroyed.

there isn't a lot left here,
but there's still too much.
I can't control how rapidly this jail cell grows,
but I can control how rapidly I shrink inside of it.
I'm starting to remember the freedom in being trapped.
I'm starting to remember the confinement in being free.
being this empty has never made me feel so full.