You want to know?
You really want to know...?
Well then, you tell me.
Because I have no clue.
When,
Where,
How
Something this important happens.

Are you trying to **** me off?!

Why didn't you tell me?
It's as important to me as it is to you,
Even if its not "ma thang"...

Do you not trust me?
Or are you just an idiot...

I'll explain more tomorrow...

It just so happens,
Your pulse reminds me of music.
Or is it the other way around?
A constant beat.
Your voice: The melody.
Every move, every kiss,
I feel it get faster
faster
faster

And with faster music,
Comes more ****** dancing.

stopitstopitstopiticanthandlethissituationanymore

This is saying goodbye
To the flow of words,
The music without melody,
That offered me solace.
It doesnt work anymore.
The way to vent, let
My emotions escape.
Now, it makes them more painful.
The way to tell him I love him
In my own unique way.
But I cant explain how much I love him.

This is goodbye to my pen and notebook.

This is goodbye to poetry.

At least for now.

whatthehelldididoandhowdoifixit

I've been scared for a while.
Been counting down the days.
Three is still unlucky.

What if what happened was it?
The cause.
It changed something.
It seems like everything I say
Changes something.

I'm sorry.
I tried not to worry,
But I broke.
These thoughts are allspillingout
andIdon'tknowwhattodoand...
I just need to breathe.

Twelve days before the Third.
And I ******* up.
I don't know if that seemed
Like an argument,
But it scared me.





Dear Diary,
            Its been a while since I wrote to you. Its hard because you never reply... Even when I ask for advice. Putting that aside, I just need to know... Why is it always Three? I need that to change. I finally feel stable, and if Three takes that from me... I'll be lost. I know I might cause it this time, but even so, please please please keep Three at bay.

                                                                                                  Wish you well, please respond just this once.
                                                                                                                  *~Kestrel~

iwishiwasdeadsoicouldntthinkanymore

"Every girl marries her father"

My mother always told me this.



You need to stop apologizing.
I've already forgiven you.
Yet you wont stop.

You are just like him...

tiredofhowimportantthesmallthingsare

You don't fully understand what goes on inside my head.
It is a torrent of confusion, thoughts, and visions.
I have my world, and you have yours.

It might get easier, but you need to understand how foolish you sounded.
You spoke to me as though I was a child!
A GULLIBLE child!
I know people lie or speak before they think,
I know I cant believe everything I see,
I know that the world is twisted and ****** up!
And I read enough and see enough to put two and two together.

I'm disappointed. You told me you were
Inspired to not get mad about others' beliefs.
I don't know what you meant by it, but it sounds
Biased to me.

You told be you see beauty in everything,
But I don't think you do. You don't look at everything.
You assume.
Do you know anything about me?
I haven't even begun to explain!
My lifelong fears,
The isolation I've suffered most of  my life,
My ability to see others for who they really are.
My search for whats right.
My search for my unlabeledviews
Because they're the only thing that makes any sense!

You're different, I know,
But your eyes are still the same.

I love you. I do.
But you really need to see me before you judge.
I tried to, but you didn't really let me.
Now its your turn.

Along with bringing happiness,
Love also brings pain,
And gives you the ability to cause pain.
Otherwise, whats the point?
Do they really love you if you can't hurt them in some way?

I still feel it, too.

I fan-girl over your first texts of the day,
I tear up reading your poetry.

I still get nervous when I see you.
I continue to feel high when you kiss me.

Its not anything I've felt before
And I never want this feeling to go away.

Speak under your breath
As though talking to yourself,
But rest your head on my shoulder.

That way, I can hear you.
And you have me.
Just rest your head upon my shoulder.

I will always be here.
I will always listen
To the words spoken ever so quietly.

The most beautiful words spoken
Are the ones you touch on my lips.
So silent, but it says so much.
Represents so much.

Promise me this:
If you ever sop loving me,
Never kiss me again.

*It's the same as lying.

nootherpoetrycanmakemefeelasyoursdoes

iamsoscaredforthefuturebecauseicantseeit

It is not three millimeters.
Or maybe it is
And its symbolic.
A short distance compared to
The mile that is my life.

No. Its the
Three Month Mark.
The thing I'm scared of.
Every time I've tried something,
And I've been happy,
It ends at three.
Three something.
Hours,
Days,
Weeks,
or Months.

We've passed a few of those,
But "months" is coming.
Fast.
I hope it's wrong.

My first thought is
I love you.
I want you.
I'm scared to go farther.
To hurt you.
But I still wonder if you'd let me.

This love and pain and wonder
Is eating me alive.
I worry constantly.
Especially since the pain
Will not be mine.

I am scared that
Our feelings will fade.
Wash away like a memory.
I'm scared to go farther.
To drive you away.
But I still wonder
If you'd stay.

This curiosity kills me.
Lightning in our skies.
Fringing the ends of my heartstrings,
Encasing me in my own lies.
My mind tells me
something is to come.
All I need to know,
Is that it's false.

You unknowingly reach to me.
Feel the energy in your fingertips when you touch me.

I can feel it, too.

It feels warm,
Cold,
Fuzzy,
Pressurized.
It makes me shiver.

You've done it.
You've accomplished the next step.
You have the sight,
Now you have the touch.

**I can teach you more.

ohbutitisfair.wearenoweven.besidesivegivenyoulessthanyouvegivenme­

asleepingcryresurrectedcankill

muchlikemyfavoriteflowerthehumanmindalsowilts

I think I should leave this page blank.
I wanted to write something for you,
But all of the lovey-dove-y romance-y stuff
Has been taken.

I wouldn't have been able to say it all anyway...
Maybe just a portion.

Now, though, I realize
I could never put it into words.

I can see it all.
The eyes show me.
The lives, emotions, pains and pleasures
Of others.
They are all painted in landscapes.
Forests: light or dark.
Rivers: murky or clear.
Skies: colorful or colorless.
Every shade
Every swirl
Tells a story.
Every flicker in your eyes tell me,
Show me,
The beauty of your mind.

Poets never die.
Never stop writing,creating, inspiring.

Poets don't fall...

We sleep.
And wait.
Wait
To be remembered,
And rewritten.

Recreated and

*Reborn

Just a piece of metal,
Just a little slice.
One of these simple things
Will cause eternal night.
Why do I wish for this,
Or at least think  I do,
When all this time
I've had you?

"Bang!!!" Its gone.
This forever hell.
Bless the world
For making me well.
Although it took longer,
I am still in debt
To the one who decided
To give me this test.

Knowing what and what not to say is painful,
never knowing the outcome.
Just be sure to expect the worst.
The wonder in our words unspoken
echo across exposed skin.
Trying to hide the truth may not be the way to go,
but can be inevitable if it wants to be found.

Sigh and empty your invisible wounds,
lay them in this kiss.
They will forever be forgotten
and never will be missed.

The pain felt by others may be my only weakness.
My empathy overpowering.
Used to hiding the emotions I steal
in strange looks and heated kisses
My mind and soul are hidden, even if not for long.
If only I could keep it from those who are there.

Sigh and empty your invisible wounds,
lay them in this kiss.
They will forever be forgotten
and never will be missed.

Time is passed as we  grow stronger,
but the agony we bare remains.
This confusion entices me, telling me to give in.
Who can I turn to?
What can i do?
Nothing is helping and i wont go to you.

This pain is mine alone.
Not for you to see.
my purpose now is to run
And make it all unknown.

mylifeisweavedstitchbystitch

In the dark, reading by light.
I look away from the performance on the page
Just as thunder strikes.
The beat of my heart stops.

The light flashes from outside my window
And I am alive again.

I stand and see,
Draw my shades,
And sleep.
Forever.

The usual plain ignorance has been replaced
With this stupid reality.
We wonder why so much is not achievable,
But they cause their own soul's paralysis.
I've heard so many complaints
Of feeling frozen,
Stuck.
If we could only see...

My brain thinks.
My heart beats.
My limbs move.
My mouth speaks.

I want it to stop.
Or I want my brain to stop.
Or I want my heart to stop.
Or I want my body to stop.
Or any combination.

I'm alive, currently.
But I don't want to be.
Help...
*I'm Alive.

Guilt overrides happiness.
Only in some circumstances.

                                 Like being strange... An outcast...
And dragging a lover into the light with you.

                                 He is labeled just as I am, now.

I am happy.
People tell me I "Radiate" it,
And I cause others to feel it as well.

                            I am just one hell of an actress...

I am happy, but not the way people think.

I'm with you, and I am.
But there is still that.
The disorder,
The disease,
The disaster taking place in my head.

                                   Could you cure it?

I just want to be as happy as everyone else.


                                                                                         Sincerely,
                                                                                         ~Kestrel

I need... no.
I want to stay awake.
I want to talk to him,
Imagine him.
But I'm slipping.

Is it possible to be sleep-intolerant?
Not insomnia, just intolerant.
I want to be.
I'd accomplish so much!
I'd write,
Read,
And imagine my love holding me.

Of course, I'd miss my dreams,
But, in this reality, I'm also
*Living one.

I continue to wonder
If it was too much.
The emotions were intense,
Driven by instinct,
Pleasure, Fire.

*Was it a mistake?

It's not just mine.
There are differences, yes,
But it is still the same.
The words tell stories.
Possibly of caves or black holes,
Vines or the moon,
The meanings hidden from you.
It all connects, somehow.

The human experience continues
To be revealed.
More.
More is happening,
And everyone has their own words.
Some are the same as mine.

Some just need to tell. To get into peoples heads.
Some are healing themselves.
Some, like me, are searching. Wanting to be fully understood.

But, somehow, it all connects.
It is all the same.

It is increasing.
Pain. Physical. Mental.
Should I regret it?

threetypes:mentalpainfulbeautiful

toomanythingsinthisworlddisappointme

With everything that has happened,
I need a hero.
Writing blindly doesn't help anymore.
I need a new hero, a new savior.
Explaining myself, My views,
Possibly going too far,
Dealing with my disorder, my disease, my destruction.
I need a safe haven.

weareallguiltyofsomethingcalledprejudice

I had a dream.

You doodled on my skin,
And left your name.
You claimed me,
And, in return,

*I claimed you.

I am not afraid
To be real.
Just as long as I have Kestrel
To do it for me.
My alter-ego,
My twin,
My alias.
My name to most is unknown,
But they still know it.
They still know me,
*Kestrel