Her skin is ripped not quite pale, but compared to the darkness that  glistens in pure silence down her wrist she is white as a ghost.
She wishes she was one. Invisible and dead.
No one could ever grab her hand again.
No more shivers up her spine because now she feels alone and empty, rattling bones inside her stomach. Heart drooping just like her baggy eyes.
She lays there. Helpless body frozen over by the icy stares they throw at her.
She just wants to be alone. Alone forever.
Oh, but it's selfish to think like this so she'll soon stop thinking at all.

The eyes of the world are upon
The crowded streets of Hong Kong
They want a free
Democracy
And are out to right a wrong

Slum dreams burn in candle light.
A flicker of hope against the rage of the night.

little sister do you remember all those nights
I sat on the edge        softly folding my love            
your small body warm but heavy
my attempts at safety as I spun
apologies into lullabies
and read stories of ethereal landscapes
with orphaned children lost

I almost had you believing
we would be so much more
than our childhoods suggested
and in kings who ruled true
and queens who stayed brave

little sister can you imagine I am sorry
for all the nights I walked by your door
without stopping,  my footsteps echoing
the sacrifice I did not make
leaving you wanting
stories where nobody         needs to be saved

The lining of clouds
Smeared in liquid gold
Vast blue is in delight
Waiting for us to dream big
And reach for the skies
With wings of our dreams
Treasures between blue n white

A blind judge sat down on a throne high above the crowd
"Life has begun, who would like to start?"
in unison we all shouted
"We would like to begin living!"
The judge nodded,
and having heard their voices
allowed them passage to where life would begin.
They left in happy clusters
more and more
till none were left-
except me.
"I would like to begin living!"
I cried out
but the blind judge sat still, having not heard me.
I mustered all I could and cried out once more
"Please! I'd like to live my life!"
the judge stirred
"Is it the wind, or a whisper? Have I heard a voice?
Shout again if you are there,"
"I'm here I'm here!"
I shouted with tears welling in my eyes.
The judge sat back and quietly said to himself;
"Must be the wind, simply resembling the sound
of  someone with not even the courage to sound their voice,
a coward who shouts their soul but is too afraid they'll be heard, so unknowingly, they whisper."
I began to cry and wail
but my even my sobs were so quiet
they were heard as nothing but the wind.

So I remained behind,
clusters of newcomers
who had the courage to be heard
and thus the courage to live their lives
passing through in steady streams.
But I stayed, shouting till my voice should have been hoarse,
but it wasn't hoarse, because I wasn't really shouting,
in fact I wasn't even whispering.
I wasn't saying anything.
I was too afraid to be heard.

I should know what happens
Every time words become my chains
Just cause I need to believe they're true
Anyway.

And I should know that
Every time I break them, I break
Something inside me
*...Anyway.