Through this window
I see a life
That seems to be mine.

Episode by episode,
Its scenes flash
Towards oblivion.

Fast and unexpected,
This life falls in front of me
Like a rock through
An endless well.

No feelings or care
To be received,
But the constant action
Of ignoring loneliness.

No screams of help,
When expectations
Proceed hard work.

No glimpse of joy.
This life just rushes out
Of my beating chest,

With every ****** verse.

The marriage of pen to paper gives birth to poetic imagery.
So full of life that its authentic nature can be felt every time you read.
My heart nurtured in its soil so deep that my mind thinks poetically. Aligned with the body and soul, I become poetically whole.

A wishful thinker things of magic, dragons, and knights.
A king with a daughter as pretty as light.
Dreaded forests as far as the eye can see.
Or sitting in the shade of a magic will tree!
A big, wide land with giants of stone.
A mansion with all sorts of musical tones.
Or the Kingdom of Camelot with Merlin at hand.
A hot, dry beach all covered in sand!
Fairies with wands, dragons with gold.
Knights in armor, secrets untold!
Kingdoms with kings, dreamers with dreams.
And if you look closely it seems...
That a wonderful God has made up this mind of adventures and things!

When you look at yourself in the mirror and you notice something.
Your not the same person  you used to be.
Yeah you look more mature but your smile don't show.
Your eyes don't shine as your mom says.
You don't laugh like you used to.
You think your loved ones are crazy but one day it hits you.
Your not the same.
You don't smile the same.
Your eyes don't shine like they used to be.
Maybe this is growing up?
Or maybe your just walking through the rough path to lead to the next open door.
This world has a lot of twist and turns to meeting people and burning bridges.
From finding yourself to finding what your worth. It's an endless battle with yourself your mind or anxiety and your worst fears coming alive.
Maybe it's all a test.
A lesson by the sky above.
As I clean my face off from the drool from last night.
I notice myself.
And notice how much I've changed.
Maybe it's time to grow up and swallow that dreadful pill.
Dreams come true.
But effort motivates.
And passion makes the heart worth beating.
And the eyes the clear hazel eyes will finally one day shine again.
Till then.
Let the rain come down and let the piano Play.

Just enough riddles
To number thirteen.
What makes me giggle,
You might call obscene!

1.
The start of the end,
At the end of time.
Comes first in Earth,
And finishes rhyme.

2.
Inside this foul clan, you will find
Not just two, but three of my kind.

3.
What doth thine eye
Most keenly spy
During the calm
Of the stormy sky?

4.
Actors eagerly
Anticipated
This primary line,
Then participated.

5.
It might make you think
Of something like "aches",
The black ball in pool
With the number "8".

6.
A young man, Arnie
Placed his ball on me
When he stopped mixing
This drink, lemony.

7.
Beginning of first,
But never in last.
It's how you begin
To scribe the text fast.

8.
The one who's reading
This most bizarre tale,
On who I depend
To somehow prevail!

The first word's a name,
The third can explain
The point of this game,
So simple and plain.

B-A-C-F-E - F-E-A - D-H-A-A-G

I'm a puzzle with no corner pieces-
complicated and frustrating
but breathtaking when finally put
together.
Faded blue jeans, bare feet, and
a mass of wild curls.
Southern accented blunt truths
and sharp accessing eyes
that have forgotten their true color.
Messy scribbled words on heaps
of discarded paper
and gorgeous journals with empty
pages.
I am a piano player in private
and a singer in the shower.
Paint splattered hands
and a girl finding beauty
behind a lens.
A quiet thinker
with a head full of screaming
thoughts.
I am a lovely mess of
contradictions.

Ego Eccentric, Collective hysteria
A mind of madness,Compassionately cruel
Do or die
Black or white
Comprised carefully of duality
We are presented a human life
The thinker thinks but will never know
Think as much as you can
As much as you'd like
Ahh a thinker,
For he is one far and few between
He cringes at the tabloids
Glamorized ****** flashes
upon the big screens
Fear mothered slave state
Is where he sighs home
A pattern to repeat
An average man's prison
One of which
He's carefully constructed himself
Barring his own windows
Processing his own food
And his own paperwork
Jail keeper sounds
The morning alarm
"Wake your body!"
Mind stays in slumber
"It's time to make money"
Yet no real wealth
Another day on repeat
Constructing his "self"
Identifying carefully
With devised roles.
The play begins
"Curtain call!"
"Places everyone!"
The lights dim
Going back to pretending again
-KaitValentine

The world has moved on and I am fixated on one **** detail. A blank stare that lasted maybe two seconds before he carried on with his work. The look was indescribable because the expression was void of emotion. This is incredibly ridiculous, but I am so horrifically bothered by it. That **** expression. This **** minor occurrence has somehow managed to ruin my day. But here's the thing - this is routine for me. I know myself too well. I will be incredibly self-conscious from now on in that space. So many things go past that man, but my stupid digressions didn't. I am a victim of over-analysis. I will patiently wait for the day my memory will finally let this go.