Who lifts you up
when your wings are broken?
Who makes you smile
when you lose that feeling?
Who gives you reasons
when you can't get the why?
Who catches your fall
when you feel for tripping?
Who understands
when it's hard to explain?
Who can you trust to be your friend
when you feel alone?
Who will stay and not walk away?

When everything you touch
is all gone, turned to dust
where are you supposed to hide
from the monsters deep inside

They chase you in your sleep
you see them instead of sheep
you sleep upon the ashes
of your burned out mind

When every building is just rubble
inside your little bubble
where are you supposed to go
when nothing's left of your home

When every chance you get
you pick out the mistake
but you don't see it
until it is too late

will you fall, or will you run
try to escape your mind
for within your head lying cold and dead
is the body you left behind

How do we know, if we don't love a person anymore?
How do we know, that you're not attached to that person anymore?
How do we know, that the person might care?
How do we know, why we keep asking these questions?

We know the asnwers, but we choose to ignore.
Still stuck in the rugged past.
Hoping for a euphemised answer.
Holding on to the feelings in the past.
The memories, remain.
The people, changed.

Wanting to change
to rearrange
when instead of helping another
one stands above the other

fighting a battle, a war
not even knowing what for
but they do it anyway
don't care about yesterday

I don't partake
in society's mistake
that boys must act tough
and be equally as rough

A girl must wear designer clothes
spends hundreds of dollars, but nobody knows
wear pounds of make-up just to look pretty
and go around with a million boys, which is just petty

Society is evil and cruel
so I will use my anger as fuel
to rant about their mistake
and hope that my heart won't break

those who don't follow the trend
are forced to make their bodies bend
to fit into school and such
but they are burdened way too much

how does it feel society?
because some of us won't bow down quietly
I am calling out your mistake
to protect the ones who feel worthless, we won't break.

The Why's:
"Why does it hurt so much?"
"Why do I feel like I'm losing you?"
"Why am I never good enough?"
"Why am I doing this?"
"Why can't you let her go?"
"Why do we keep going in circles?"
"Why do I never follow my gut?"

The What's:
"What do they have that I don't?"
"What's wrong with me?"
"What's wrong with you?"
"What do you want from me?"
"What is the right thing to do?"

The Who's:
"Who is she?"
"Who am I?"
"Who are you?"
"Who do I turn to?"
"Who can I talk to?"
"Who wouldn't hurt me?"
"Who wouldn't judge me?"

The Am I's:
"Am I better off alone?"
"Am I a good person?"
"Am I doing what is right?"
"Am I living the life I should?"
"Am I better not living life at all?"
"Am I kind enough?"
"Am I popular enough?"
"Am I pretty enough?"
"Am I smart enough?"
"Am I funny enough?"
"Am I enough?"

Where are all our wooden boxes?
Their bronze gilded edges
and old price sticker glue.

We worried them away from charity shops,
haggled over foreign coins in bazaars.
They travelled by the heat of our legs
cradled, but chipped from the bumps in the tar.

Like Russian dolls from different cultures,
dysfunctional birds of a feather
storing together
Our lives segmented then closed in the dark.

Wraps of late nights and later mornings
Odd earrings, shells, letters and old keys
the leftovers of utmost importance
Finger sized buoys steady through our coastal breeze.

Do they still nestle in your corners?
Wearing blankets of somebody else's skin.

Are they still filled with our faded receipts now?
Or hollow from within.