We all broke our rules for someone unkind,
Lust and pretty words can make you blind.

Sometimes echoes of past mistakes will slip beyond the dark line,
Do not cling to old memories while making new ones this time.

Begin to trust that your instincts will guide you true,
Decide to choose yourself instead of letting others choose you.

In the beginning…
I remember that once I was a calm sea
I had always let others dictate how my life should be
But thanks to you, I’ve awakened to the harsh realities
That the only person who has my best interests at heart is me

You may run your mouth, spew your hatred behind my back
Your trivial nonsense will get no rise out of me
For I am now a wrathful storm hell bent on revenge
So I bring with me the power of lightning and thunder
And with the promise of never returning
I pull you under

Now that you see who I really am
Should you test my limits once again
That will be the last time you ever see the sun
Because I am the rage you created…
And I am done.

I am the pretty thing that lives under your house.
You left me there to rot, to be forgotten
like a flower that's never been watered and withers.
So how ironic must it be
to see a single rose bloom from my grave?

I am the pretty thing that stands next to your bed,
watching your chest rise and fall.
I bend down to whisper in your ear
and though you may have taken my voice,
the air coils and delivers my message.
Standing, I withdraw to the shadows.

I am the pretty thing whose face suddenly appears
in the dark space of your twisted mind
where you thought you buried me for good.
Gasping for breath, you wake up drenched in sweat.
You wonder if you're being irrational or going crazy.

I am the pretty thing that came back.
How lovely it is to make you insane!
You look beautiful in that straight jacket,
surrounded by alabaster walls with no windows.
It's only when you’re finally captured that you drop all pretense,
professing that it’s my blood that is forever stained on your hands.

I am now the pretty thing with a dagger in my smile.

i no longer wish to be exceptional. be boring. be ordinary. do not stand out. be real. be authentic. cleanse your mind and body and start over. it’s never too late to start over.

i only wish to exist, that’s all. it takes a lot of strength to exist when sorrow, disruption, and misery follow you around, swirling like a black fog that constantly engulfs you. it takes so much willpower to see through the fog that when i stumble out or gasp for breath, i realize that ordinary IS exceptional. to survive the absolute hatred of being forced to live, i only wish to exist, that’s all.

First glances and second encounters
Text messages and tiny smiles
Flowers and chocolate
Dates and confirmations
Small kisses and long nights
These fleeting feelings
Come and go like puffs of clouds
Some entertaining children
Others transform into hurricanes
Lovely how they form
Unsightly how they fall apart
Love and affection
Odd at times
Nature’s way of section
Evidence including flaws
Of human depths
Intimacy doesn’t always lead in a direction
Not every action creates an reaction
Not every glance buzz with flutter
Not every conversation intriguing
And not every water particle forms a cloud

I exist
But dreams turn into dust
And every breath reminds me of last

I exist
But world is so blurry
Contained of hopes I had to burry

I exist
But there’s only blank space
That’s highlighting every wasted chance

I exist
But time turned into slow motion
I’m drowning in an endless ocean

I exist
Joyful dance, cheerfull smile
Did someone say I was fragile!?

I’m alright
Look at me
So delighted to exist

Existence is an ocean."



The body is a vessel, this life is a sea.

God brings the winds that fill its sails,

But it's captain is only me.

Other ships may come and fire against us

My crew may plot a mutiny,

If succeed they do, and if I lose

My ship goes down with me.



No one else will tell me how,

Or why, or what, or when.

Till the sea swallows us up,

And it's waters birth us anew.

Till I say good bye, the final time,

And sail those seas again.

Why is existing so exhausting?

Connecting starlight over rooftops,
Pleading to save my soul.
I look to the night sky to make me feel whole.
Perhaps it's the beauty
Or is it its presence?
When all else fails to be,
It is.