Technology is taking over.
It is making me and
The natural world sick.

Please help.

I am not good at using metaphorical statements.
The creative part of my mind is a brick wall,
Blocking everything behind it and keeping it from shining
Through this fog.
The words I say seem to be blank stares, waiting for a response, but not begging.
But of course they rejoice and hang banners and ribbons.
I am still not okay with being a porcelain doll.
Or a marionette,
Or a mannequin.
And I am still not good with metaphors.
But I can still show my soul,
Even if it is only a half finished painting.

I wish I could sing.
And maybe I can,
But I want the voice that will give people chills
And lull them to sleep.
That soft beautiful voice that always seems prominent
In movies.

I want to create a melody
That tells a story, even if there are no audible words.

And I want robe able to show my emotions clearly,
So people will not misjudge me.

Get it?
Things happen and time passes.
At least in my world.
Nothing is worth hanging on to.

I want to move on.
I let out my fears, my emotions,
But you won't let me heal.

Let me go.
Life goes on,
And I want to forget
And forgive myself.

The reason it is my favorite shape:
It never ends.

And many things do.
Just as many things repeat.
Never ending conversations,
Never ending emotions,
Like the one I feel for him.
Never ending jokes from those who think themselves funny.
Never ending dread and mourning when someone is lost.
Never ending lessons tone taught and listened to.

The never ending life of a soul.
Everything repeats,
Everything is recycled,
Everything lives on,
And everything is born again.

When you put your arm around me,
It seemed a dream.
Almost as if I wasn't really here, and neither were you.

My heart still jumped,
And I felt everything.

Maybe I'm just more confident now.

Maybe this is surreal
Because we are the strange ones.

We're the ones who will last.

Somehow,
I am sure
We will be.