A Hero's face rises above the
bandage on his head.
Why do men need this sort of hero?
An innocent.
A flower of spring.
Do you not see the sunrise each morning?
Where is your lost soul?
In the ages of history,
learn thee not?

She is but a tender seed,
Pull away your ****,
Do not sow doubts in her mind,
She is not one of your kind.

Oh darling,
If only I could tell you how beautiful you are to me,
I know you and I were never meant to be,
But I was so capricious and reckless,
And I thought I could fool destiny,
Kidnap you, take you with me and and re-writte the code
But somethings are not meant to be,

i am from a peach colored bedroom
and an overflow of stuffed animals.
i am from a childhood of make-believe.
i am from innocence.
i am from a supportive family and loving friends;
i am from a place where i was used to
losing relationships.
i am from lonely days
and even lonelier nights,
my only sunshine-- a boy i know all too well.
i am from giggling whispers and sweet smiles;
i am from a school full of jerks...
that i fell for anyways.
i am from a constant sense of not belonging,
a paranoia I'm at the bottom.
i am from the need to define myself,
to be represented with words and lyrics
that prove i'm not alone.
i am from a world so familiar
it hurts.

she reads books and she plays music
the cute, innocent
clumsy girl
with freckles on her cheeks

you like to read and listen to music
the cool, handsome
sweet-talking man
who likes freckles on her cheeks

[ or at least you said you did ]

she rolls her eyes at your compliments
the cautious, bright
guarded girl
with curiosity in her eyes

you lay them on thick
the certain, sharp
imprudent man
with hidden agendas on your lips

she lingers a little longer
in hopes of crossing your path throughout the day

she laughs at your jokes
and you know they're not funny

she sings for you in the car because
you like her voice

[ or at least you said you did ]

she's become good at excuses
the hopeful, naive
kind-hearted girl
with sureness in her words

you soak them up
the stark, ill-intentioned
vacant boy
with uncertainty in your voice

she gave all she had to care for you,
the smooth, clever
self-serving boy

you convinced her that you loved her

[ or at least you said you did ]

He sleeps so peacefully.

With my head on his chest I listen  to his heart beat.

My fingers running through his soft hair.

He seems so innocent and vulnerable.

I get so overwhelmed by emotions I can barely breathe.

This is what falling hard feels like.

While scribbling all I knew on wet sand,
I would feel my mind drowning in the marshy land,
so I did wash every letter away with my tears,
and left no room for clingy fears.

I was hoping after all these years in exile
some fears might have fallen down the pile,
a pile of silly things dipped in agony,
I had built to challenge my cacophony.

After a decade my fears are resurfacing,
their wrath is deadlier and blazing,
leaking from bruises I recklessly ignored
and dragging along a shady past I abhorred.

I have a child inside me crying and screaming,
hiding behind doors, when the past comes knocking,
it wishes for the lost luck to retreat
and bring along fables that once skipped it’s heartbeat.

I know the scars I wear, shall stay and glow red,
till the time darkness plays with my head,
forcing it to believe in the beastly visions
that were more like false hallucinations.