i am an abandoned house with too many windows.
fragile frame.

my heart is a treasure chest-
so valuable, pirates and sailors alike would risk their lives trying to
find it.

even my thoughts lie to me

I can drown myself in new music and relive my memories
sometimes I write a lot and sometimes I need to get away

you thought you got away with ****** but everything was on tape
it was like painting numbers on a white pale wall, something clean

humans don't go look for danger, danger will find them where needed
you never waited for me to get my **** together, you said you hated me

it were the bad things I only could remember about you, all the bad

and all the lonely boys fell for the girl who was now a thing called pretty
and all the popular boys didn't fell for the same girl back in those days

Mondays always came with rain and Friday always left with a smile
the moments you lived for were minimal, it were only the weekends

I remember how lonely you felt, missing the people around you
the voices in your head became your new home, they were your friends
sometimes they come back, just to say a simple hello...

it was all about living for someone that never take a breath for you.

you could stack up all the bricks
in the world then slap a roof onto
them and it still wouldn't feel
like home.
just a box with a ****** excuse
for a roof.

i'm not nice to myself
i'm not kind to myself
i'm not proud of myself*

how do you expect me to love myself?

i've been lying here for what seems like forever.
eyes shut tight, fists balled, i thought it would go away.
memories of yesterday reappearing behind my eyelids.. sleep was supposed to be my friend.
the one to take away all of my problems and comfort me until i felt myself again.
i suppose sleep failed me too.
it failed to take away the hurt and the pain;
visions of you, wrapped around her like the promise that still envelops my ring finger..
i am afraid.
for i know, if i'm brave enough to peek through my eyelashes,
i would not see you laying there.
this is all your fault.

if i could have one wish, it would be to time travel.
i would go back to that day under that tree..
what kind was it again??
oh yeah, an apple tree.
i can picture all the fallen apples just laying there,
some bruised, some half eaten, others just completely destroyed.
you know, i kind of feel like those apples.
unwanted, damaged.. not really fulfilling my purpose.
somehow i understand.
they too were once picked out among all others,
chosen over every other option
and then suddenly, thrown back.

YOU PICKED ME YOU IDIOT.
YOU CHOSE, ME!

(why was it so easy for you to throw me back)

take a deep breath.
can you feel that?
the warm sun bursting through your window?
you have been given a new kind of warmth.
the spot next to you, the one he once occupied,
is now painted a beautiful yellow,
no trace of grey to be seen.
open your eyes darling,
for today is a new day.
and it's all YOURS.

She slowly got up and hope that no one is awake to see her eyes bulging for help. She reached for her pen and that little vintage notebook that no one knows and started scribbling the words her soul screams for. She quietly sat at their balcony outside her room and let the moon illuminate her thoughts. She thinks this is the best way to get help without actually getting help from anyone. She slowly bring her hand to a move, a few strokes, a long hard press, a few soft ones, and a lot of semi-colon for her thoughts are an endless words to write. She looked up and count how many stars she can see and wonders if she can ever reach any of it.

Dawn is her favorite part. More than she loved dusk. It is when there’s nothing else illuminating the sky other than the moon and the stars and a few shooting stars. Where a few people is awake, lonely and feeling the same way she does. Dawn is her best example of her woe. Getting that sorrowful feeling just by looking at the night sky. Knowing that her only companions are the heavenly bodies.

She watches as her lean fingers trace the stars above her. Listening to her own distress; along with her soft breathing and dark, wild soul. Too preoccupied by its beauty. Mesmerized by the radiance of that brilliant, round heavenly body; giving her pain to it. Taking its brilliancy and leaving it dark and gloomy just like her soul.

Chasing what’s left of her, she remembered that she was holding a pen, she grasped for it hard and slowly stand up and throw it above hoping it would touch the twinkling light beaming beneath her.

Getting back to realization, she sat down and read what she has written and a tear fall down her pale cheeks, gazed at the moon and asking it to give her strength and take her pain away, but it didn’t repond. It just stared back, listening and letting her know that it understands her.

She peered. Few salty tears fell, few strokes to her hair, wipe her tears away and gone back to bed. Because she knew for herself that she could never wipe her despair away.

I can see those wings
how playfully they hide
as the feathers fall gingerly down
coming to rest at your side

You tried to hide your halo
flipped it out of sight
but your eyes gave away a pureness
a never ceasing, beautiful light

although you may be bound to this earth
cold concrete and cruel
you my dear truly are an angel
a blessing through and through