The more I learn,
the more I see religion as a man-made idea
to make us feel that we are some how special
compared to all the other life on earth.
I think I'm scared to accept this
because without my fear of the afterlife,
what else is really keeping my spirit
tethered to this world?
Love?
My need to not present myself
as a burden to others?
i d k . . .

I used to write for a reason
Now I just write to strew useless words
Information no one will probably ever
Read, my voice never again ever heard.

I'm a little bit terrified that I'm
A real life
Manic pixie dream girl.

What if I only exist
To help others
Find their place in this world?

What if I'm doomed
To float in and out
Of depressive episodes?

Never having actually
Done much of anything.
A depthless side character

In my own life.

Just when I think I'm fine,
You reach out,
Pull me in ,
and I remember what it was like when you were mine.
I want to go back,
but turning around has always proven pointless,
the ending is always the same.
There are books I would love to re-read,
but you are not one of them.

I am a falcon for you, my love.
The wren may sing; The lark may try
his hand at the heavens; The dove
may coo, but for you? I will dive
                                steep, like falling,
                                deep, like what's calling
                    me to
                                L
                            ­      E
                                     A
                                        P through this sky so blue...

                                Weep when we say "I do".

                                          I am a falcon, love,
                                 but I'll D
                                               I
                                                (V)
           ­                                        E
                                                     only for you.
                                                    If you ask me to; But speak fast.
                                                   The sky's forever far away and above.
                                                          ­But before my dive takes me past,
                                                           I can say this to you at least; at last,    
                                                           My dearest,
                                                        ­   My only,
                                                          T­he sky's forever far away and above,
                                                          ­But for me heaven lives in your eyes.
                                                           ­     I saw you and  
                                                           ­                            fell
                                                                ­                            in
__________­____________________­____________________­_______

If you want recognition, buy it!
Wow, I guess all of my poems are going to
"****" from here on, but I will still "post them"
Anyway, because they are worthy of their own existence,
And I've got nothing against writing my feelings,
Real fame is brought about by skill, not monetary expense.