She stares at the walls which encompass her life
Unsure why she can’t run through them at night
There she sits for countless years
Only to be kept prisoner by her deepest fears

She carries herself like a book with a smile
Judged by the cover, they all want a trial
Yet she’s bound tight by glittering stitches
To hide all of her unhinged glitches

She cannot keep still for half of a second
Dreading the moments she hears a small beckon
Left alone in the mind of a girl
Whose thoughts are dangerous when unfurled

She sees lovers dancing, living in dreams
Not all in this world is what is seems
You ask this girl what’s on her mind: she lies
For all she can do is deny

She carries burdens further every day
Unsure who will let her stay
Focus, let it all be clear
Then drown it out with another beer

She’s not certain who there is left to trust
In a life filled with unwavering lust
Pop another pill, smoke another stick
Anything to lessen the weight of bricks

She stares at these four walls and wants a door
Instead she lies down on the floor
All of these secrets kept inside bars
Filled with loud base and red guitars

She wanders these streets, quiet and obsolete
Who will be next on this long list of cheats
Cold whiskey, bright eyes, and stiletto knives
Where to go next in this web of lies

She floats out of her cage, up to the stars
Leaving the ***** and a hole in her yard
Bury the past, leave behind the secrets
Along with her heart, so no one can take it

She paints her road with glitter and oils
Maybe someday she’ll even be royal
But leave it with this much that will remain true
She’ll never be coming back for you.

If I can find a guy who will watch "When Harry Met Sally" with me, without complaint, and will be okay with me talking through the entire movie, at 1 AM on a weekday even though we both have to work in the morning with tea, chocolate, and a fuzzy blanket, while I wear ugly sweats and an oversized hoodie with no make up and messed up hair, and somehow, if he can still find me beautiful at that moment, I know I've found the one.

I remember that day,

it was 7th grade civics class

We had to draw the landscape

the colors turning. We could see.

When then we each with a notepad

began to venture into a faraway

retreat away, the sky brilliance

our guide toward a fantasy.

~

I was unable to recall later

that cold December morning

just how beautiful the leaves

were just weeks earlier, radiant

in the autumn sunlight.

Life was an easy walk

along pathways that

breathed the lovely

vestige of Nature’s remedy.

~

Winter skies are meant to

chill our heart and soul.

The trees hadn’t any designs

to seek desire’s passion.

Today the branches remained

stark and sleek, now barren,

holding only a key toward

sudden loss, the fallen summer.

~

A week earlier the branches held a fresh snow

At least he felt shelter in his new travel home.

The thing about life is, we never know what people are thinking. We are never aware of how others truly feel. As a result, we create our own ideas in our minds about how close we really are to each other. We become captivated by this fantasy within our minds and when we finally look back at our reality - we are disappointed. That's the thing about daydreams and fantasies, when all is said and done, they only exist for those who create it in the first place. Meanwhile, the other person has no idea; it does not exist for them. It is a vicious cycle you see, for they too are caught up in their own fantasy.

And you are nothing but a mere observer.

I ascend
Towards the top
adding to this bitter drop

My skin is smudged
With dirt and dust
But this abuse is not unjust

The branches twist
Love to assist
The girl who lives inside the mist

First is gallant
Next is weak
Always knowing what she seeks

-Who am I?-
-You'll never know-
A changing pain that never shows

Skin is hot
Eyes will chill
A murderous tree not meant to ****

It's here for weeping
Broken dreams
Embracing those
Who sit unseen

Out of time
And running out of breath

You love finding out who people truly are, but I love the version of them in my head.
    Daydreams are so much better, though these days, you're dragging me out of my bed and into cars packed full of new people and potential.
    We stay on common ground, live on bare minimums. With you, though, any kind of substance at all is better than my imagination.

You're better than my dreams, and that says a lot.

Faith is mythical
as lands devoured by sea,
as griffins and goblins,
in tangled daydreams.

By these muddy shores,
shipwrecks of hope.
treasures and tales,
unheard, untold.

Tyrant needs sustain,
their sadist chains hold
dreamers of blue, and gold.