I fell,
Down, down, down
into the far reaches of my mind,
down into the abyss
I fell.
I will rise,
from the ashes of who I was,
from the inevitable
darkness that took over me.
Because I am a Phoenix.
I will rise.

Its the flowers..
They remind me of colors with no name,
Words that will never be said,
Emotions that are buried inside of me,
And of times I've hesitated to take your hand,

Do you ever see people?
For how the react towards you.
Not for what they look like or walk.
But for their emotions buried deeper than any truth,

I wish I could just reach out.
And touch your heart like you do mind,
I wish I could know for sure,
How you see me inside that beautiful mind,

I want to see beyond the smile behind your "hello",
I want to feel beyond your soft voice of " I'm okay",
I want to not just touch your life and go,
I want to be here for moments unseen and times after today,

If I tell you of what's been eating my heart..
Would you embrace me?
Would you come and stay here?
Would you reach for the piece of my fragile heart?
Would you make this step with me and forever never part?

Would you love me?
Like I have done all this time?
Would you grant me what I wish?
And let you be mine?

Darling,
haven't they warned you
not to play with fire?
Haven't they told you
I'm the atomic bomb?

I gave you a heart shaped card
No chocolates. No flowers.
Your name scribbled in magic marker.

You gave me one of your kisses
The chocolate kind;
And we walked about, your hand in mine.

In 17 years I've learned
nothing is fair,
any shrivel of happiness will be taken,
not just taken, it'll be ripped out
of your hands.
In 17 years I've learned
no one wants to help
unless they get something,
someone is always waiting to
knock you off the podium,
and parents are the first
to take your dreams.
In 17 years I've learned
that I don't want to be here
so much so I want to scream.

I am from an old beaten up cloth swing
From cloth diapers and glass bottles.
I am from the broken down siding gray and cracked.
It felt gritty under my weak hands.
I am from the dandelions growing rogue around the yard,
Waiting to be picked.
I'm from the small meals
And side glances from jealous siblings and peacekeeping parents.
I'm from the collecting cans
And saving what can be saved.
From "Save some for later"
And "Why don't you eat at your friends house tonight?"
I'm from the same second-hand dress as last week,
And sitting in the back pew.
I am from Welch and the towering mountains.
From flitters and gravy,
From the stories pa told to keep our minds preoccupied.
From the love that ma gave us to make up
For what we didn't have.
I'm from the card board box in the attic.
I am from perseverance, and surviving.