You do not appreciate me till I am gone
Then you can do what you want
With my words
With my life
Play my corpse
Like a marionette
Interpret as you see fit
Because I am not a genius
Till I am dead
And I can mean what you said

So where’s the love that I shall find?
Is it natural or divine?
It is knocking on my door,
But if I open, what’s in store?
Three questions in four lines,
I’m always seeking,
But never find.
One day when I’m looking at the life that’s behind,
I’ll see that what I was seeking had always been mine.
And that questions don’t lead to answers,
Because only time can tell.
So try what you want, and let yourself fail.
Answers are only summoned from our paths as they unwind.
So let your life happen, and leave your worries behind.

If aggression is at the heart of creativity then I don't apologize for the way these words slowly peel back every layer of skin and leave you aching. Exposed. I don't apologize for the way that each letter in its own just happens to set you ablaze. Not for every syllable, roll of the tongue and accent of voice that is the very candle I will gladly light in the presence of what you are not. That this flame of a candle is the one I want to watch struggle in the wind. I don't apologize for the way that everything that is right now and later on has its own sharp tongue. Of mine and not at all. But I do apologize in advance for the way you will be obliterated into exactly what you are. Pieces.

Sit somewhere near the water
The blue sky, sea canvas is all that we have looked forward to all day, to this everything  
To this breeze between I and you 
Completely captivating 
There's no need for words, just breathe me in here 
Inhale and exhale every pore, and every lingering desire to be 
Allow the waves, as they crash in and out of us to calm this surface 
Slip your hands in between mine like the very sand that is surrounding us here 
Let's just stay awhile 
Before the carvings in these grains get washed away again 
Just like this moment between one and one 
Gone before it's gone 
-AL

At night, everything is alive
My emotions deepen
My fears shrink
My imagination runs wild
At night, a brighter me comes out
My love is stronger
My ambitions are taller
My vision is clearer
At night, I feel safe
Because no one can see me
The darkness covers my flaws
The darkness covers my fears
The darkness covers the walls in front of me
Black is all I see
All I need
Once the sun comes up
Everything comes out
All my flaws
All my fears
All my walls
At night, is when I’m at peace

We’re all mad, the world is full of madness. We’re all scared, the world is a scary place. We all fall down, the world is full of many bumps. We’re all lonely, the world is full of loneliness. We all have doubts, the world is full of negativity. Point is, the world is full of everything you feel so don’t feel alone because there’s about 7 million other people out there and you’re never alone.

it's a weird feeling, this emptiness. this feeling of existing, but not living. just walking, wandering. lost in life, with no destination in sight. I had one once, but now it seems that a goal that was once at my fingertips has moved miles and miles away from me. I feel like my mind has been tortured by words of negativity— my existence has been threatened by my own hands due to people voicing their "opinions". This Generation has turned the amendment 'freedom of speech' into 'freedom to destroy the soul of a human being.'
Words hurt just as much as being physically beaten, think twice before speaking your mind. Will your words build that person up, or crush their minimum amount of joy left in their frail bodies?

I was never much of a writer
I never knew how it was to
Rearrange letters in the alphabet
To form various splashes of color
That create one big masterpiece
I was never much of a writer
I never knew how it was to
Stretch my hands out
And be able to reach for words and phrases
I can use to build and create and make
Into a story I can call my own.
Instead the words and the letters
Looked like jumbled puzzle pieces that didn't quite work together,
They looked like stars
In the form of failed constellations
Mismatched brightness and color
I didn't get any of it
Sometimes I think I was too dizzy
From this 360° spin that we call life
See, I was never much of a writer
But I tried
I tried mix and matching words that I thought would make sense
But they never did
I tried picking the best flowers
For this bouquet of letters and symbols I tried making
But all I ended up with was
Withering words and
Misspelled petals
I tried building
Stories
Lego after lego after lego
But the pieces still refused to fit
So the towers fell; crumbled
Again and again and again
Reminding me of a mistake I made years ago
Again and again and again
Like a song on repeat
And it's times like these when I wish life was pencil on paper
So that I can erase, erase, erase
All the parts of me I didn't like
But I never had enough strength
To pick up a pen and create.
I couldn't.
I tried lighting candle upon candle
Of fragments of stories I thought I understood
So that I could see what the darkness up ahead contained
But all I ended up with
Was a forest fire
And the next thing I knew,
Everything was burning
My home
My papers
My dreams
My desires
My pride
My stubborn head
My rebel heart
And this flimsy, failed wrist of a writer of mine
Everything was burning
And everything that burned turned into ash
Disappeared into smoke somewhere above our heads
So that we can no longer see them
And I finally understood
I was never a writer
I was never the writer
I was never the author
Or the editor
Or the storyteller
Or the poet
I was never supposed to write in the first place
So I stopped writing.
And I let The Writer write
This huge masterpiece of a story
That we all call life
And ever since then,
The words made sense
The flowers never withered
The Legos all fit
The candles stayed lit
And life
Has never been more awesome