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Jenna May 2014
Telephones.
Earphones.
Earplugs.

To drown out
Baby cries.
Engines exhaling.
Anxiety.

"Don't be afraid"
"You've done this before"
"He knows what he's doing"


The tired.
The disagreeable.
The impossibly experienced.

Tickets.
Bags.
Smile-free faces.


I'm ready.
You're ready.
Let's go already.
Daylight 4U2C Apr 2014
He bit the curb.
Does that make you disturbed?
She laughed at tears.
Does that deepen your fears?
They don't know when to stop.
There's no stop signs in this town.
If it's you, life's sad.
But if it's them they shouldn't make a sound.
Some don't fit in,
and they just can't help it,
no matter where they been.
I guess no one really developed it.

Whom I kiddin?
Some people are fake,
on the outside their only,
the character they make.

"Who wants to run like me?
Who wants to get away?
I look around,
but they all seem A-okay."
Well if he judged you,
He'd seem to be just fine.
But you'd never guess,
He's scared of being left behind.
If she beat you and spit in your face,
you'd figure she was spoiled,
but her life was just so misplaced.

Why do they have to smile?
Why do they have to drown?
Why do they have to go away,
after smashing into cold, hard ground?

I'd say you need a lesson,
but you've probably had one too.
Stop being arrogant,
if there's one thing that you do.

They've seen the grey clouds,
and you've seen the rain.
And surprisingly we've all gone insane.
So why drive us mad?
Why call us bad?
Make us sad?
What have I done?
Nothing,
but yet I'm being pushed.
Off my feet, off the swings, off the air, off the edge.
By you, by them, by me, by life?
I'm going to stand here,
and proclaim to the skies.
"For once, let this life be mine!"
"And please vanish the outer lies!"
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Daylight 4U2C Jan 2014
If you give a wishing stone,
she'll travel out all on her own.
She'll  leave behind the fear and pain,
and keep herself from going insane.
While her friends are getting diagnosed,
she'll be somewhere in her boat.
Maybe she'll have tea for two,
but at least she'll know what to do.
And they may ask, and plead, and beg to be in her world,
but she'll certainly say,
"Be gone, be gone, or off with your head."
Which should be said, since they cursed her be dead.
If you give a girl a wishing stone,
she'll truly feel all alone,
and for those who never cared "be gone!"
The queen has finally sang her song.
She was never a fool, just a withered small bud,
and those pigs would throw her around in the mud.
So sure she dreams and dazes off,
but she can do whatever she wants.
She earned a bit of recognition,
for all antagonize and inhibition.
Give that girl some cheer,
she fought a war for all those years.
Stop the hate for her being crushed,
unlike some, she had no love!
The glass shattered hard,
it's no surprised it became shards.
Giving time and yells,
doesn't heal, it kills.
If you give a girl a wishing stone,
you've given her one happiness finally of her own.
Daylight 4U2C Apr 2014
I just want someone to care.
To notice, when I'm not there.
To stay by my side.
To let me cry.
I don't want to be judged.
I just want to be loved.
I don't care how far,
I don't care if you've receded,
I just want to know
that I am needed.
It's not creepy.
Certainly not.
It's just odd,
to read what's been thought.
I love the imaginary,
who exists.
I love the birds,
and bees.
I love the sky,
and seas.
I'm waiting.
I'm watching.
Watching the world.
Thinking about it,
I've come to notice.
You help me even now.
Because I don't know who you are,
I spend so much time thinking,
wondering,
contemplating elatedly,
to the point I don't even think,
about..
the world anymore.

All I care about it this beautiful,
wondrous,
ponderous,
distraction of mine.
And this image in my mind,
it may not be you,
but I may know some day.
This love is true.
This love is so much.
I don't even know what to do.
This love of mine,
I await.
I will wait.
I'm waiting.
I'm watching.
Watching the world.
The world will pass me by,
and in the end..
I will have you,
and hold your hand.
The collected dust,
will tell a story.
True love does exists. You just have to be patient.

— The End —