We are our own stairs
        everyday climbing higher.
We may fall,
          but inside we get up and brush off.
Climbing those steps of inner strength again...

Up the stairs
she would climb
Into the attic
at night-time.
Her little legs
crawled up each stair
and soon she discovered
what was up there.
Antiques from all kinds
of things she had never seen.
The attic was quite dusty
as if it had never been cleaned.
She scattered through every box
and discovered a trunk.
She searched for a key
and found one under some junk.
She opened it to find a photo
of someone with her.
She looked closely.
The person was unfamiliar.

I trapped on the stairs full of turns

A few days so high up in the sky
A few days down in misery

Sometimes led to sanity
Sometimes led to gray

Railings full of thorns         s  
Down the rungs to   o n  u    i o
                                  c       f           n
Half-raised arm                                
Touching opacity

Tail dress
Bare feet
Hidden blushes
Saved hope
Ballerina hands

Lost in the middle of your stairs
You pushed me down?
Mess catch me
Why?

I'll always be the morning dew for you
You insist on showing
You forget the thread that joined
You changed the pretty
Why like this?

You are well on which step you are?
In which can I find you?

It's not down to sadness
(You changed the meaning
The essence disappeared)

Existence is like many steps
                                       I thought I came to the top with you
                                                             ­                                  But it was an oasis

For your young you: Generator of ascending stairs in our dimension.

- Codelandandmore //20:30 PM ©

Don't get me wrong, I like elevators as much as the next guy. But there's always been something about stairs that just interests me in a way elevators can't.

If you've ever watched me climb a flight of stairs, I usually skip every other step. Mainly to save time because I live life too fast, climbing stairs so I could slow life down somewhere else.

I have this one staircase where all my friends hang out, less than 10 steps with a door at the top. That door wasn't opened very often, we called it the -- "Suicide Door". Only to find that it was a room where there were tons of stacked boxes willed with paper. But we still hung out on that staircase anyway.

Lately, the conversations that take place on those stairs are less than amusing, we don't laugh about how stupid people are. Rather we rant about who we want to **** in this world, and who's mad at who for thier gender or religion, I don't feel safe there anymore.

I fear if I say anything that I'll be shut down because I don't like people's use of "free speech" when it's used to put people down. And yes, I know, I'm not innocent here. There are conversations I regret saying that I have left on that staircase.

We don't talk about those conversations because we know out opinions are still changing. I may not remember any of this when it's finally over.

We don't talk about conversations we had behind closed suicide doors. But we never talk about the ones we had on the staircase below it. Sometimes that door seems like it's locked forever, and we choose to believe that our staircase leads to nowhere.

I miss the way thing used to be, when conversations weren't poisonous to those who heard the even by accident.

It makes me want to take elevators with strangers. Sure, it would be awkward, but at least nobody would want to rant about people to a bunch of strangers.

I sat by the stairs again. All my friends were there. But the school bells ring and everybody leaves. Nobody bothers with a "see you later" of a "c'mon, we gotta go, you'll be late". They just leave.

I'll stay there for a minute, gather my things, and wonder where they all went.

And whether or not they'd come back.

After all, the stairs aren't all that important right?

And these stairs, out of all staircases, just lead to nowhere...

One flight higher,
One step up.

Two eyes would meet,
One will surrender.

Right foot step,
Left heel back.

Straight to the darkness,
Fell head over heels.

One step higher,
One slip up.

Falling in pieces ,
Faking broken smiles.

Feet forward,
Pride stares back.

No stairway drama,
Just a storybook end.