A pair of ravens fly
intertwining their paths
in the sky
dipping smoothly into the vast space
twirling and diving headfirst
rapidly falling towards tree tops
before gracefully gliding upwards
once more,
and I, watching from a distance
with my feet on solid ground
and my hands warmed by
a cup of coffee,
wish for myself a sense of
solitude and clarity
despite all the things
weighing me down
and the cruel clips that
hold my own wings captive
maybe one day
I will pick myself up off
the ground
and find the strength to
remove the chains
and set myself free,
free to fly,
free to soar among the clouds
and surrender to the beautiful
overwhelming vastness
of the world.

She was very much lost
between the boundaries
of the vast space of the unknown
and the place of no return,
trapped within the space
between two unfamiliar dark worlds,
she peers out straining her eyes
in vain to see beyond
the glittering city's walls and the tapered off grounds
and receives no redemption
for her curiosity,
but only the hushed voices
and concerned stares of the
figures in masquerades
one by one, they usher her
away from the crystalline windows
and gently urge her
back into the masked ball
under a glistening chandelier
and the soothing haunted notes of a violin
and the red delicacies and sugary sweets
on the polished marble tops
soon, she is lost, completely immersed
in the melody and transparency
of the masquerade ball
as the two worlds outside the window
loom overhead, threatening to engulf
the illusion as a whole.

Standing on the brink of despair

perched between

the familiar grounds of a cruel world---

and the dark unknown vastness

of unexplored dangerous lands,

I relish in the warmth of your alluring smile

I trust that when all else fails me,

that is, when my reasoning and values, fail me

you will be able to

bring me back from the edge

and breathe warm life into my surroundings

because however cold and cruel it might be,

this world is the only thing that I have.

you don't know what you'll become,
but i promise it's worth it.
This world has made you strong and kind.
oh, what a wondrous thing,
to say,
"i fell apart, and survived."

yes, you'll be okay.

All I feel is remorse and a longing
for my wasted and undeveloped,
malnourished potential
for the arts.
How I long to write,
spilling my thoughts and words
onto beckoning sheets of blank paper.
How I wish I could draw and outline,
bringing to life scenes, memories,
and figments of my imagination
in which I always envision and depict myself
as a more vivid
and entrancing individual.
I feel completely isolated and pathetic,
unable to connect the dots,
trampled on by the success
and the never ending bits of small and large
investments of effort
that my peers have the potential to conjure up,
while I writhe and struggle with just forcing myself to
face the responsibilities and challenges,
only to find myself crawling into bed every night
having accomplished nothing.
I feel starved of life and companionship,
as I look around and see others
who I might’ve longed to be friends with,
brush past me without a glimpse
or a moment of hesitation,
as if I were a humanless shadow in their path
that formed out of nowhere.
The more time that passes by,
the more I feel myself slipping away.
Unable to think, unable to speak coherently
in the sense of complete honesty,
I can only dream of a world
in which my journey aligns with the stars of my dreams.