Roses are red,
Violets are Blue.
I am going to bed.

*Will you come, too?

There is never enough time.
It's screaming at me, echoing in my seemingly
Empty
Skull. Ringing in my ears, tearing my neck away.
I can't breathe.
I am new, but I can't write about it.
Too much time to think...
Yeah right. I calmly feel numb. Blank.

You are my best medicine.

But, the thing is, I'm on a strict
Schedule. I can't have you whenever I want.
And I can't have as much as I want.

I just hope I don't run out.

I'll never use this... Why does it matter if I know it, if I do we'll in this class.
I don't like numbers. I am an artist. I like colors.
I can speak and I can write.
And I can draw the things that hide in people's nightmares.
I have no use for the history of the world.
Because I am one of the many that will make new history.

I don't care if I fail in this part of my life.
Because I will succeed in another.
And no one will stop me.

This math, I don't need.
This history, I don't need.
I want my life to center in art, writing,
Literature.
I read, I write,
And I capture the word in one precise moment that will never be seen again.
A lost time.
In one snapshot.
I hate these numbers.
And I hate the history that has corroded our world.

I want something else.
I don't need this place.

I had somewhere I wanted to go.
I would fit there.
But I can't.

Right now, music would help.
Melting into it and draining the world of its color.
Black and white.
No more thoughts, just the beat.
Other people's words.
And just noise.
No more thinking.

I haven't been able to concentrate on any of my work.
I got everything wrong.
It is easy!!!
And it was all wrong!!!

What the hell is happening to me?
Everything in my life is suffering.
My work,
My mind.
I can hardly meditate anymore because I am too crowded
With this **** in my mind that I wanted to forget.

I am reliving it.

I wanted to avoid this, but I needed people to know. I needed to
Get it out!
That's why I wrote that stupid ******* poem.
But then she found it and now
My life is a living hell.

Just stop it. Please.

Just don't mind me.
It's alright, I'm just exploding here.
The stress, the schoolwork, the drama.
Everything.
It is way too much.
I cannot deal wih all of this at once.

I am warning you.
Stay back.

I will talk, but only because you said
That you'd do some etching for me.
Carve things out and fill in the blanks.

You'd recommend something to me.
And I am grateful, but I am only a client,
Aren't I?

Tell me the name and contact information of my new teacher,
And I will be on my way.
But I don't need a teacher. A master.
I don't need someone other than the ones I already have.
But it would be nice to learn more.

I will never even think of
Losing you, my dear.
I can't think of what running will give me.
I will continue to wonder where
This will lead.
And I do it for you.
I listen to music and I realize
That love lasts forever.
I am through worrying
And trying to memorize
The scenarios that could happen.
I don't know what to say, but
Just know that I only
Fall for you.
And I always will,
Until that last day.
But it will avoid me.
And it will never show it's face.

Through thick and thin,
We've improved, learned, and leaned
On each other.
I can't stand my life outside of this.
There is so much drama, and it
Is affecting my work at school.
I can't think.
But you allow me to escape.
I don't care about school,
I don't care about the drama.
I hope I can do that for you.
I hope I am doing that for you.

And I want it to continue this way.
I know you do too, because you've told me.
(And I hope you're not lying to me)

Please.
Remember your promise.

These little moments mean everything.
Every tight face, trying not to frown,
Or possibly explode,
Shouts at me to do something.

But all I can do is stand here with my arms
And wait.

Tell me what comes next.
Do you have a vision, a dream,
Of what might happen
In the future, no matter how far?

I don't know why I'm asking...
I guess I like to dream.

In every drawing, every sketch, every line made with a pencil.
There are pictures hidden.
An emotion left behind.
An imprint.

Every **** at my screen forms a letter, making up the words you are reading now.
And every tap of my fingernail is some sort of song I have in my head.

Everything has a meaning. Even if you don't know it.
A math equation: 17t =.5+14(t+.25)
17 means something to someone. An anniversary.
.25: A quarter. Maybe dinner for a homeless man.

Everything has meaning.

I drew a tree on my page. And that symbolizes the ways I've grown.
Ways I've changed, matured.
And also the beauty and grace of just simply
Standing tall.

Every seam on my dress was designed by someone.
I am wearing an idea.
And that idea could've been someone's pride and joy.
The career they dreamed of and finally achieved.

You never know.

Every stroke of chalk, oil, paint, is an emotion.
I would stab a canvas with a pencil lead thin brush
And it would make a star.
So simple, so beautiful, but what if my head, my heart, my body, was trembling with anger.
Or fear.
Or sadness.
A white rose is beautiful, you'd give it to your lover.
But did you know it symbolizes death?
It's peaceful nature and delicate scent, it's bright light, it's bright color.

It makes me cry every time.
Because somehow, when whoever created that symbol or came up with the idea,
They wanted to die. And they most likely did.
So then, why do people wear black at funerals?

The color is the opposite of death. If you count the white rose.
It symbolizes rebirth.

Living in the hearts of those who actually showed up to mourn you.
While others might have skipped because its just too sad or,
Maybe, they're happy. And they wore yellow that day instead.

Read between the lines. Between the creases.
Between the fingers of someone I used to know,
There were scars.

Who looked at the side of someone's finger?
No one. They were hidden.

She was hurt, but she wore pink.
And her scars were pink as well.
New, like a baby's skin. And what if it was? If it was a baby's skin,
Her way of rebirthing herself into the world and find her new soul,
Her new knowledge?

Read between the lines.
Because she had them in her toes, too.

I nearly fell asleep in class again.
The boredom lulling me and making me
Numb.

And then a spell is cast. You enter
My mind without permission. You are always there,
But...
This time you completely took over.

I just got old and I wrapped
Your sweatshirt tighter around me.
It doesn't smell like you anymore,
It smells like me.

But knowing that it is yours
And that you wore it
Still gives me comfort.

But it doesn't matter.
I'm still going to give it back to you at the end of the day.

Boo!
I love you, darling!

I always will.
Even if you disappear.

Because we are a math equation.
Numbers and variables,
Exponents and everything else.
It may look complex to some or
Maybe it makes people sick to look at,

But there are tricks and it is easy to figure out.

The simplified equation comes down to
Us*love=

Will you lose yourself in a maze with me?
A lot of steps and checkpoints,
Eight foot tall walls of corn stalks.
And secluded circles where the paths don't lead.

Split off from the rest of humanity,
Just us in that labyrinth.

Will you go with me?

I really have to do something.
If I don't, I'll burst.

I can feel it swelling up,
Making my knees shake.

I have to ***...

It seems like everything is perfect.
I am excited to wake up in the morning.
I want to leave the house.
I want to shop for pretty dresses to impress you.

And my heart jumps and my stomach drops
Every time you look at me.

You're right next door, but it doesn't matter.
I still wish you were here.
Because of you,
I have something to smile for.

It's just a piece of cloth,
A sweat shirt you wore today.
You handed it to me because I was cold,
And your scent lingers.

It warmed me immediately

But when I tried to give it back, you didn't take it.
And I just held it to my face, breathing you in.

Now I am lying in bed, wearing nothing but that and a pair of shorts.
I know I will dream of you tonight.

Reading words
Written painfully
And accurately.
Histories revealed
And futures
Being dreamed.
And it
All conspires
To destroy
And demolish
Your mind.

I've tried so hard not to breakdown this past week,
Not around my peers, my friends, my love.
But I failed.

I broke because my math teacher asked how I was doing.
She meant the assignment, but the words still got to me.

Now I know.
I am as safe as a secret.

Some will spread me like jam and eat me alive,

Some will savor the sweetness, taste here and there, and love me.

But who is who?

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.

Many say it is dangerous.
That hearts will be broken and
"Darkness will triumph."

But they are wrong.
While there will be struggles,
The love of an artist is true.
We search for the things that are real,
And we respect the boundaries
Because we know what it's like to have them crossed.
We will be distant, but also be the closest person you have
Because we know what it's like to need someone.
We know how to speak and perform
In just the right ways
To show you the beauty imprinted in us,
And the truth we can reveal.

To love an artist,
A poet,
A painter,
A soul,
Is a gift.

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.

Imprinted in my brain,
A stray thought still remains.

I can't help it,
It is a part of me.
And while it is true I have promised,
And I will follow through,
It is still there.

But it is fading.
Slowly.

I have voices telling me
That they care.

Real ones. Ones that are
Not in my head, but rather echoing in my ear.

Thank you.

This lump in my throat
Jumps. Almost as if it wants
To say something.
I did not know what it is.
I feel I need to measure some sort
Of emotion, but what it is...
And it scares me.
I feel the vultures and crow
Just waiting for the right moment.
I should feel warm.

I am alive right?
Because you can see me, can't you?

You are my Geranium.

Something is different in school.

But what?

It could be that everything that has happened wasn't here
And that affects things, but somehow that doesn't seem right.

I don't know.

But it's affecting me,
And my words are taking a turn for the worst.

I wish I could not speak.
Maybe then,
The things I wish to say would be more meaningful
And I would say so much more.

I wouldn't say
"I love you".
I would show it.

And I wouldn't recite poetry,
I would act it.

And I wouldn't tell jokes.

*I would be them.

I have a song in my head.
And I blame it for this dilemma

But, then again, you sang it.

isitacrimetobesleepy

This is what happens
When I eat too much.

A stomach ache,
And a swollen abdomen.

I look like I'm five months pregnant...

Threat?
More like a challenge.

I know what I said, but...
I don't know if I can make it.

Never again will I stay away.

I've always felt lost. Unaccepted.
But that was before I had a family.
I have so many people that I know and don't;
You are my family.

My mother, my father, my brother.
They aren't real.
They never treated me like family.
Never told me they loved me and
Sounded like they meant it.
They are not real.


But, Sage, my love, you are.
But, Caitlyn, you are.
But, Logan, you are. (Both of you)
But, Miranda, you are.
But, Connor, you are.
And I can go on.

And this is high school...
Will it last?

Or will my family leave me?

I continue to worry
As time passes.

I think and think and think
AND I CAN'T FUCKINGNG TAKE IT ANY LONGER!!!!
----


I wonder what will happen.
When all of this ends.
Because my real family are
The ones who kept me here
And kept me sane.

And let me reach past everything that
Ate at me,
Burned me,
Killed me slowly
And rotted me from the inside out.

What will happen.

Will I move on,
Or will the suspense keep building.

onlyyoucanmakemeburn

The way you kissed me,
Deep isn't the woods...

It made me feel dizzy.

I was flying,
Crying,
Dying.
Because you stopped.


*I never wanted it to end.

strengthisknowingyourplaceintheworld

I listen to our music,
My cell phone on my shoulder
Waiting to buzz and give me your words.

But I will drift soon.

And when I do,
I will not respond to you.
But you will know I am dreaming of you.

Because I always am.

And all
F
  A
      L
           L
                S
Silent.

A young girl, looking for an adventure,
A silly soul not wanting to curse her.
A mind to die, inevitable at least,
Whom oft creates her inner manic beast.
To loves and lost ones, she spoke so dearly,
And told her stories to relate so nearly.
A premonition shows only in mind,
The world as is, not entirely kind.
The closest ones in their own little worlds,
And blind to Mother Earths kin, sprouting curls.
So tightly she held to wisdom she earned.
Preparing to lose the words she had learned.
Of ways she influenced, words recorded,
Then dying soon, angels wings worn and sordid.

My **** today was
Huge
And meaningful

After it is written,
Set on parchment,
With permanent ink,
It can't be taken back.

Those words will affect you,
Whether you like it or not,
Because you still have it
In your head.

The only way is
To write something else
And think ahead
To the page after

You saw me.
And your dazzling eyes met my plain ones.

My heart throbbed, skipped, jumped, and burst
And I couldn't help but smile.

When we are together, even for a split second,
Everyone else should Run.

Because you are the only one safe from my explosive heart.