Keep saying you don't want it
I like when you lie
Keep saying you dont want it
I like when you cry

My little snowglobe
Love to shake you up
Then watch the chaos inside

Do you hate me yet
Yeah, it's better this way
You hate me, yet
You still let me stay

My little snowglobe
Does it hurt your ears
When I tap on the glass
Arguing in the car last night
My foot ******* the gas
Probably shouldn't drive so hard
When it's raining so fast

My little snowglobe
Did it hurt when you cracked

It hurt me too
It hurt me too
It hurt me too

I want you back

I peered into the future and saw
Possibilities dancing in semi-reality
like snowflakes beneath a stormy sky.
But the one before us was clear
as ice upon the frosted curved glass.

A madness has spread among
the countless peoples of the world.
A disease of the mind which makes it seem
to the sick man as if they are made

of glass. A fragile thing, so
frail and delicate they might break
upon any but the softest impact.
The afflicted, day and night, scream in fear

at any possible contact harder
than the lightest touch.
“I’ll break”, their blood-chilling screams
echo through the empty halls of history.

The world has broken in this future
like a music-box wound down to

silence. Men and women hide in
padded chambers, for fear of breaking
their porcelain forms upon a pavement
or stones a toddler could step over.

A cure for the glass does not exist,
save for a light tap to show the ill
that they are more than they believe.
Yet the sick would rather not be healed

than face the reality of their own resilience.
The world cannot hurt you, my friend,
but you yourself can hurt the world
and shatter it like a crystalline snowglobe.

she was not chained, but tangled
in the fur of his kisses or the stickyness of his glances
it turned her fingertips red and made her eyes squeeze
their world was a tropical snowglobe with a little boat that tumbled around their sky
and she lapped against the plastic like a tide
looking up at him with forgiving eyes.

I can remember just fine,
All those things that I hold dear.
What I cherish, what I yearn for,
What I imagine
Spins and swirls in my mind,
Like glitter falling in fragile snowglobe.
But it falls.
It falls until you pick it up again
And you shake it,
And it's wonderful.

I can remember all my dreams,
I want so badly to watch them live
And spin and swirl all around.
But,
What if they're stuck?
Stuck inside that glass globe,
And all they do is spin and swirl
And fall.

I'm not sure what I'm holding on to,
I can't see past my eyes,
Not anymore,
There's no taste,
When the senses meet my tongue

i walked in not knowing
the storm that would soon be blowing
outside my little bubble
i was deeply in trouble
and when i was inside
it was the perfect place to hide
but not a perfect place to be

A 'feeling'

                'clouds'

                            ­  over me

I try to find the words
to match it,
   a phrase
     that agrees with the emotion
       and search the metaphor
         to portray the image

It fights for my attention
    this 'feeling'
  and I battle with it
       for a time
It does not waver
      until I submit
I slump, defeated sometimes
       sitting with my pen

Now may not be convenient
      but 'now' is the time,
    
           apparently!!

I offer
  'patience'
and the rhyming story
  is permitted to unfold

        and be told.

As I sit
  the words and phrases
    are no longer jumbled

        they're calm ..

            and settle ..

    like tiny

                white

                     glittering flakes

            within a snow globe

Gifts. Not all gifts consist of contagious laughs, nor shrieking woes. For most children, they receive joy, and sometimes a coffin for the old. Mine was hard to distinguish even up today. Because it was dressed like a daydream under the sheets of gray. A snowglobe, a sculpture of two faces, the atmosphere that surrounds it like a womb. It felt secure. A city of our dreams where no one can touch. The love that never came to me was there to watch. I remember feeling almost everything to the sound of your breath and fascinating wonders. With you the glitters there form a twister. The figures within will dance until their feet numb. Christmas hums whisper through the effect of the words 'i love you'. And those were the reasons I forgot it was all a lie. I forced myself a sweet lie. Because somehow, I lost the sense of reality. Your hands will never intertwine mine. Your eyes will never see that little world. Eventhough I admit I was fine, I blinded myself in this light. The thought of you managed to make chilly snows as glitter. The colors turned dull as I make out our figure. As if a midnight train, you abandoned our memories at dawn. And your heart making decisions like stone. It was gloomy and cold and funny. The perfect piece of broken melody. So I sing with this gift that you bestow, locking my soul in eternal sorrow.