Her head is up in the clouds
and they are so soft and fluffy
as sweet as cotton candy
and she takes a bite even though
she knows it'll rot her teeth.
But of course she only tastes water,
as it was a cloud she bit
and she wonders how these fluffy cushions
even support her.
She probably shouldn't have wondered,
because she's falling now
through those soft clouds
that fade away on contact.
Free fall to the ground
where there is no candy
to sweetly rot her teeth,
where there are no clouds
to cushion her descent,
where there is nothing but
cold, solid earth
ready to break her
at the end of her fall.

In a dismal house there was a table.
It was dark, wooden, and old
and on that table sat a mug
that had "Number 1 Dad!"
written on the front.

An old man was talking happily to the mug.
Though his eyes looked tired
as they darted to look at the empty chairs
and his voice was growing feeble.

The man sat in one of the five chairs
that surrounded the old table.
The other chairs were empty.
They already had gathered dust.

The mug he spoke to
did not contain anything to drink,
but it held four daisies.
All had pushed through the dirt long ago.

When the dirt in his mug began to shift
the old man didn't even move the cup.
It's like he didn't even notice
when the fifth daisy pushed up.

In a dismal house there was a table.
It was dark, wooden, and old
and on that table sat a mug
that had "Number 1 Dad!"
written on the front.

In that mug a fifth daisy pushed up.
...
What happened to that family?
They pushed too many daisies up.
What does that mean?
I don't know! That's what Dad told me!
Dad never told me that!
Well that's because I'm older than you!
So what! I'm not the one who lost their--
SHUT UP
...

Tip toe carefully down the never ending path
that twists and winds into the woods
littered with leaves of different hues
that fell from dead trees so high above.
But their golden figures make no sounds,
as your toes ghost over the tops of them
dancing down the path.

Searching for the end of the path,
getting lost in the deep dark woods,
and wondering why wandering is such a pleasant thing to do
yet so crippling as well.
The toes stop moving as loud sobs were heard,
they came from behind,
at the start of the path.

Don't go back lonely dancer
whose toes twitch towards the sound.
It was a choice to dance with death,
one that you couldn't turn down
since no one else would ever dance with you.
Don't float back over those golden leaves
they will turn brown.

But yet those toes turned away from the end
and back to the sounds where it all began,
and what the dancer saw they almost couldn't comprehend,
how could one person care so much for a failed friend?
One who had no grace in life,
who couldn't handle it,
who had to leave it all behind.

You stood on your toes to see around the bend, you leaned
just enough to see toes, connected to feet, connected to legs, connected to...
connected to... with a person kneeling, staring at the hanging form.
Run dancer run,
look at what you have done.
You can't go back, the past hurts you like it always does
all you can do is dance with death, alone again.

Calm, poised, point your toes, you failure!
The deadly mantra you had forgotten echoed in your head again
as your feet hit the ground,
tripping on sticks and brown leaves
and you fall down,
your body in agony,
dancing no more.

Dare to breathe
in the space of those on pedestals.

Dare to love
in the face of those who hate.

Dare to grow
from your past mistakes.

Dare to hope
in a world lost without it.

I dare you.

I walked into the ocean looking for Death
And I found myself quickly out of my depth.
My ears rang so loud; then I heard nothing.
I had gone deaf to my own suffering.

Dear diary,
can you help me,
reveal myself slowly.

Dear diary,
can I write on you,
words left unspoken.

Dear diary,
can I make plans,
with your paper as my blueprints.

Dear diary,
can I use you,
to help the me deep inside.

Dear diary,
i'm glad I have you,
who knows where i'd be without you.

Dear diary,
you know my biggest secrets,
and my darkest fears.

Dear diary,
I know you won't betray me,
like the enemies I have.

Dear diary,
thank you for being there,
when there was no one else.

Dear diary,
thank you for letting me,
make my mark on you.

Dear diary,
*thank you.

I am just a little blip on the radar of life
not entirely certain why i'm there
but yet I made enough of an impact
for the radar to pick me up.

But then i'm gone.

Gone as quickly as I came,
all promises broken,
all ties severed,
all hope destroyed,
as I am no more.

I am nothing more than the lines I used to draw on my wrist.
I am nothing more than the words that bleed onto my page.
Not to be shared with anyone
except my own tortured self.

But yet I come back,
I always come back
with desperate hope that
things will be different.
They have to be.

But i'm always a mess
a girl in her best dress
that hates with a passion
the amount of times I change.
Down down down I go,
falling endlessly.

I will leave
and i'll be back.
Spinning in this endless dance
of confused passions,
and all these little lights on the radar
mark my disappearance.

Though time is rather fleeting
I don't know why I'm sleeping
the days away.
And can you see the sunrise
above the horizon?
I find myself swaying.
Away with the breeze.
Flowing with the leaves.
I find myself traveling across the sea
just a discarded leaf
with no destiny.

Drawing is my distraction,
writing as well.
But its hard to be distracted,
when all you write about,
is what you feel
deep down inside.
And when that feeling,
is tearing you apart,
then distraction,
is not good enough.

Don't look to the moon
because it'll be gone soon.

I can be the one
to make you disappear
without anyone finding out.
Sink down in my oceans
and drown,
no one has to know
that you escaped death.
So join me in my goal
of subterfuge,
because tonight I am the moon
if it decided to hide you.

Don't look to the sun
because it is already gone.

I could be the one to ***** things up
without anyone finding out.
We could set fire to the walls
of your head
and make sure no one
escapes from it.
So join me in my goal of demolition
because today I am the sun
If it decided to blow up.

Do you believe
in miracles,
and the bright side
is the best way
to see things.

Do you believe
in magic,
and the beauty
that is,
God.

Do you believe
in darkness,
and that where there is death,
there will always
be death.

Do you believe
in light,
and that where there is life,
there will always
be life.

Do you believe
in me,
and that I will strive to be
the best I can,
and I will overcome,
my weakness.

Do you believe
in yourself,
and that you are good inside,
that where there is darkness,
there will always be
light.

I'll take a walk that I won't return from
leaving behind coats and mittens
in hopes I'll become frostbitten
and numb

Sometimes your dreams
have a greater density than water
and they sink into the depths
of one of the great oceans
that swirls and rages in your mind

Yet sometimes your dreams
need to be listened to
no one has empty dreams
they are as deep as your ocean like mind
you may not understand now, but you will

Sometimes your dreams
leave you waking up with one phrase
one little piece of advice
and no matter how much you want to sleep
you get up out of bed

Sometimes your mind is raging
and your heart is as heavy as a rock
that has a greater density than your mind
but those dream words speak to you
don't let your sadness skew your point
*of view

Tear laden pool,
filled with secret betrayals,
that float endlessly,
on the still water.

Smoke fades,
oh so slowly,
just like your eyes,
that now drift endlessly,
into a daydream.

Soft clouds,
roll across the blue sky,
never stopping,
on their long path.

A pebble is thrown,
into the pool,
and it ripples,
shattering the calm image,
that sits in the mind.

Laden with grief,
a leaf floats,
to the bottom,
touching the sand,
that rests beneath.

Looking up,
through the now still water,
the light is blurred,
and the leaf is weighed
down.

Not wanting,
to return,
to the surface,
because its vision,
is drowned.

Water seeping into my body
and I try to swim,
but my arms are limp
and my legs won't kick.
The bubbles float upwards
towards the glow of the surface
and I wish I could watch it in peace,
but my lungs are burning
and I open my mouth to scream
but more bubbles float to the surface,
mocking me.
I'm watching these orbs float towards the light
while the rest of me sinks into the darkness,
but i'm sinking faster than the bubbles can reach the surface
and my vision starts to get fuzzy
and then it swiftly goes black
as I feel the cold water hug me tight,
suffocating me.
*I'm drowning

There is something eerily interesting about drowning.
Sinking slowly into a body of water
watching the light dancing at the surface
as your limbs refuse to work anymore
and become dead weight
but your mind is still alive.
Your vision starts to become fuzzy around the edges
as the sparkling light starts to dim
and the murky darkness of the depths surrounds you.
Until your mind finally, gives in and fades,
the lack of oxygen putting you to sleep
forever.
And what's glorious is
You don't even need water to drown.

*You don't need water to drown

Perched upon an unstable stone,
that made its home in shallow water
is a kind of woman who does exist.
The early morning brings mist
that settles around this daughter
who always ends up alone.

The brook murmurs softly to her
she places her palm on the surface
ripples form as the tension breaks.
And then the water takes
her hand down with purpose
to see how much she can endure.

Though this brook runs shallow
and its waters are calm and gentle
there is still a problem that remains.
Around her neck are heavy chains
and to stay upright is a struggle,
her hand slid as if drenched in tallow.

Her screams are her own to keep
as she disrupts the shallow water
rock shifting, body falling.
The chains' weight is appalling
crushing the will of this daughter
and in the shallows she drowned deep.

You lost it
...
The pre-dawn sky still held stars
and she shivered beneath their cold light.
Arms crossed against the weather
eyes darting, yet her posture is held tight.
The stars light up the sidewalk
and her darting eyes look tired.
She sighs glancing at the ground once more
then checks how much time transpired.
Her hand touches her ear
checking to see if she missed it.
It's still not there and the night is fading,
yet she doesn't want a replacement.
Her hand falls to her side with a thud
and her heels clack loudly.
She's done what she could
yet there's a risk paid for acting proudly.
She didn't look back to the grass
where a small object reflected the starlight.
The earring was there
but it was fading away with the night.
...
It isn't the only thing I lost.
.

Locked in the cradle of influence.
Rocked back and forth with songs not your own.
Speak their minds
all the time.

Push against the rails of innocence.
Hear your cries return to your own mouth.
Choke on it
echo it.

Poison your mind with your need to please.
Fight them and yourself to be yourself.
See the world
hear its hurt.

Crawl to the door try to open it.
It yields some, but not always enough.
"Let me out!"
let me out

"Let me out!"
let me out
"Let me out!"
let me out

let me out
.
..
...