The night is calm, yet something dark lingers. 
My mom is at home cooking vegetables when I hear the rat-a-tat of gunfire.
This is the new normal for us.
 
It never used to be this way.
We used to play in the streets without a care in the world.
Thunder cracked like bombs and now everyone I used to know is dead.

Now who can I run to?

My poor family was caught in the crossfire and flames and now I'm stuck
with the guilt.
I am wracked by sobs,
waves of sadness crashing over me like the Great Flood.
I get up and look for a new place to sleep.
I turn to look one last time blurry-eyed at the crumbled concrete walls that used to be my home.
My haven. 

Now where do I run to?

Todo lo que necesito es amor.

All that I need is love.

I don't care if you're too old.
I don't care if we have opposing political views.
I don't care if you're religious and I'm not.
I don't care if you are dyslexic.
I don't care if you can't spell.
I don't care if you don't go to college.
I only care that you have a
beautiful heart.

I love you for that and many other positive things.

Sister, do you know
that everyone says that behind my back?
That I am nothing, that I am bad at everything?

They ignore me. The friends that I thought I had were just shells and façades with a burning interior whose goal was to engulf me in their flames.
To extinguish my flame.

Everyday is a silent battle for me,
don't you know this already?!
Why do you think I eat so much?
Only food can attempt to fill in the gaping hole in my heart where good friends should be.

So when you say,
"Nobody loves you"
the hole is dug deeper and deeper.

You hold the shovel.
You can choose to dig it deeper
or perhaps fill it in.
Your choice.

Your sister,
Wistful Wanderer

Day after wretched day
my mind carries more and more information
until I can't the burden anymore.
The pain is drilled into me;
My house wreaks of stress;
My poor family is running around
like there is a state of emergency
and I'm just calling out silently,

*"Help me. My mind is flooding."

In a traumatizing hail storm,
stand out on the street corner
waiting for me to arrive.

In the operating room,
suffer with me as our
first child is brought
into this world.

In essence,
stand by my side.
You don't need to say anything.

*Just be there.

Until that glimmer in my eye disappears,
I will be forever ensnared in your trap.

Treating life like a butterfly,
Constantly caught in a web of confusion,
Choking evil with the food of knowledge,
Breathing in the air of uncertainty and expelling gales of happiness,
Snapping your puzzle piece into the dispositions of everyone on this earth,
Grabbing the horns of courage to lead you to victory
this
is living.

Torrential rain,
pour down on me
and wash away
my misfortunes.

Know that you are loved.
Know that you are cared for.
Although your heart is weight
and your mind is glass
please don't break.

*Not now.

Sometimes
I feel helpless and hopeless.

Sometimes
I want to kiss this country goodbye.

Sometimes
I feel like my life has no purpose.

Sometimes
I want to crawl out of my skin.

Sometimes
I want to love you,
but *you're not there.

Your melody represents life.
Most of the time chords support you.
They amplify and boost you up.
Then there are the notes.
They go up and down to symbolize
the constant rollercoaster ride of emotions.
Your emotions also change the quality of your supportive chords.
You can make your support minor
or you can make them happy and major.
There are times of dissonance and tension
but also release and resolution.
Your tune can be sorrowful, pitiful, mournful or joyful.
It's all what you make it.

People inside church
versus outside church
are totally different animals.

I'll sing for you and
I'll sing for me.
I'll sing underneath every tree.
I'll sing in the darkness of an alley
and I'll sing in every crook, nook and valley.
If you don't like it, I won't be sad
because somewhere, someplace someone is glad
to hear my song
as I travel along
through lonely corridors
and bustling throngs.
Waiting to open up my mouth again,
I'll sing
I'll sing
I'll sing.

Who is this "you"
you write about?

You push through the crowd
and stand right in front of me
your palms up and your eyes
glistening with tears. Even after
all these years, our love
has grown until it has reached
it's breaking point.

Our love broke the Richter scale and
shattered my life to pieces.

My life, without *you.

Love is undefined.
Love is boundless.
Love is measureless.

Mommy, I hurt.

Honey, I don't see any bruises...

It's my heart,** Mommy.

Ever since your junior year,
I have never been the same.

I only hope that the grass is greener
on the other side of the pond.

Please,*
don't pour salt
on my wounds.

My eyes scan your horizon
hoping that maybe
you'll stare right back.

She thought she knew
everything they didn't.