Grab a feather
                                            Open your soul.

Grab some paper
                                         Make it your own.

And a small feather
                                             Shall be a brush,

And a small paper
                                        Your poems' canvas.

the beasts that claw and creep within
are often wearing human skin.

To heal yourself you must face your fear...
To make peace with yourself you must first make peace with those to whom you are dear
Love ambition.. But also keep a safe distance.. Never come too near
Smile and be positive..but once in a while do taste a tear.......

We are nothing but an empty shell,
Filling our voids with warm things to feel alive,
A composition of ravished corpses of once
Living beings that will warm our dead inside.

We are nothing but animals,
Playing human every day, faking empathy and emotion,
Playing God every day, ravaging and killing our host,
Beautiful lands left with nothing but corruption.

We are nothing but greed,
A broken people cutting their skin with green paper,
Pretending this is what true happiness means,
Killing each other for the bliss of coins.

Desperately fighting my rotten ego,
I pour blood into this empty vessel, the cage of my soul,
The core of a virus pretending to live righteously,
Yet I know that this version of me is indifferent.
A parasite.

It's the way she holds her head when you talk
The way her eyes light up when she sees a dog
The way her hair frizzes around her head like a halo
The way her body will melt into you when you hold her
She's beautiful

It's the way she talks to the voices in her head
The way she walks
The way she talks
The way she takes care of you

It's the way she holds you when you've had a long day
Or how soothing her voice is when your demons come to play

She's beautiful
But you never told her.