bird, on chirping winds, fly on violin like strings strung from heaven
raise thy wings as instruments thy voice  as fluted angel breath,
strum your breast absolute, play the wind wood , pause midair, flutter,
into the air my feathers, go soft then beat and beat the air your wings a drum a conscience, an oboe deep, a music follows you,
soft
into the woods.

They stare at you.
They judge you.
They talk about you.
They hurt you.

Why?

Because they're "jealous"
Because they're "abused"
Because they're "hurting"
Because they're mean.

You cry at night,
You want to fight.
But you're scared,
You hate fear.

Your parents ignore you,
Sometimes THEY bully you.
Your siblings laugh at you,
They usually pick on you.

What do you do about this?
Nothing.

You play with my head
and you **** with my feelings
but my presence you dread
and my face sends you reeling

I'm not your fool
I'm not your tool
I'm not some *****
that you can just lead on

Just leave me alone
take every last stone
and every last bone
I won't be your drone!

Sometimes,  somedays
I just want to fade away
to sink into my poetry
among the lines for all to see
my soul to rest on every word
such dreams, such nonsense it is absurd
but yet I hope to dare
That my work spread everywhere
filled with soul and loved with grace
pushing darkness from this place

Why do we leave the womb?
Why
Why do we go astray into depths unknown,Only to come back with a diffrent understanding
Of what you already knew
And isolate ourselves if all we seek is company
It is the knowledge the wind wispers just out of reach
So we misinterpret it all but ask yourself
If a theory is tought in an institution
Does it make it any truer?
Truth should be defined individually by what the heart feels
Not by the ideals of your peers
So the real question is 
 What do i find true?
Does one ever find the purpose in there existence
Or do wift like leaves in the wind
In a way we're all like waves
Taking of in a burst of fury
But as soon as we reach the shallows we fall
And crash against each other,
The only shure outcome is that we'll return from where we came
And all that remains is the calm.