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Things are things and
Verbs are verbs
When you hear chirps
It’s probably birds

Feet go in shoes
And shoes on the floor
Music echoes in ears
Leaving you wanting some more

A heart is a heart
Until it’s beats aren’t for you
Love isn't love
Until you share it with two

Then comes the end
As all good things must
Settle on the shelf
And gather life’s dust

"Too late" is a lie
So get back on your way
Start life over
If you can, start it today
Take things for what they are; live life to the fullest.
I had a dream that you could fly,
with clipped wings,

Despite your disadvantage,
you soared effortlessly,

And at heights,
not even the bravest could fathom,

And this my dear,
is why I truly believe,

That you are an angel,
dressed in the devils clothing.
Ehh.
We're in my room eating popcorn
and it's burnt because I never set the timer right
and we're watching a film
I promised myself I wouldn't cry
because I'm an ugly crier
but you don't mind
and you're stroking my hair
and my hand is on your chest
I'm wearing your sweatshirt
the one I stole from your closet
when I was cold
and we're holding hands in the pocket
and the movie's over
but we're still staring at the screen
and I look up at you
and you wipe the tears away from my eyes
and without batting an eye you lean in
and we kiss
I wish I never had to move

but now you're gone
Headaches
Longdays
Of thoughtless thinking
Turn left at the corner
Right at the sidewalk
Then end up on the steps of
Nowhere
Did so much
To accomplish less than a days work
Stop talking to me
Words for hours
Actions not seen
Your support couldn't hold my dreams
Step back
Then maybe
I could step out
Out of  crumbling castle you call home
Built on credit
Not made of material things
Please listen to this harsh reality
You have to do something
To get it done You can't stand in one spot
And expect to move on
Two devils on my shoulder
Full of disbelief
Screaming
Scratching
Prying
Interweaving there thoughts with mine
But those tides are over now
The sun has risen over the horizon
And my eyes work just fine
Chaos muffled by the beauty of this scene:
Braking out of generational defeat
To be free
Or not be…
caged
I am(as the hippies would say)
High as a kite
And I like it
Wouldn't even fathom
Reacquainting myself
With soil beneath my feet
Again I say
To be free
Is the only options I will receive
This question I perceive
How many field lengths
Will I run
To overcome the pain and suffering
Caused by dysfunctional parenting
It’s rather peculiar
How a person can mean as much as the stars
And then the next day they are just a passing thought
It’s like I have so much emotion then none at all
It’s quite melodramatic really
This is easier than I thought it would be
Maybe you hardly meant anything to me at all
Your perfume in the air as you leave..
..becomes the grief in this tomb that I breathe.

Never daring to think beyond thinking we might..
..but the night closed me down.

In town..on a tuesday..when it's wet and so cold..
..I hold onto the dream.
That when I come home..you'll be waiting alone..and for me.

I see it's not real and fate has dealt this cruel blow..
..but how could I possibly know..so soon..that my sun and my moon would fade.
In the leafy glade where you lay..today and forever...never forget..
..our sun never sets it just slips slowly away.

And I still play our game, (in my head now)..do you remember the name..no,don't blush..nobody knows.
I talk and everything slows like it used to..when I was with you.

I talk to my radio, as if my radio could ever know how I feel..once more I can see it's not real but it's how I get through being on my own without you.
Sometimes I think that I've cried myself dry then I cry once again.
Crying myself sane I suppose.
Who knows?
Beauty is all I see in her.
The little spark in her eyes,
the subtle wickedness of her smile,
the frailty of her white skin,
and, yes, even her scars.

"What's beautiful about her scars?"- you ask.
Well, what's beautiful about them is the story they tell.

A story of a little girl stricken by misfortune.
Uncapable of looking out for herself,
growing away from the ones who should protect her.
Hit by the alcoholism of her mother, and the drug abuse of her father.
Forced to live in a home where love was scarcely seen.

She couldn't see an exit. She couldn't find a friend.
All she had was the pain in her heart, and a rusty blade in her hand.
Pressed it against her skin, drawing a line of blood.
Relief.
Freedom.

But time passed by, and she learned about her mistake.
She found a better way. She found a better friend.
This expierence left something behind though.
Something she now lives by everyday.
A humble heart, capable of loving and forgiving,
and the lust for life she had seeked for too long.

So go ahead, point your finger at me, and yell "There's the guy with the girl full of scars!".
I won't mind for I see beyond these scars.
Memories of a battle fought and won.
Forget about the past, but remember where you're from.
Even though I'm against self harm, don't judge a person for how he/she looks like. You never know what's behind his/her appearance.
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