~ Losing Innocence ~
Why do we risk it all for love?
No matter how exquisite,
Passionate, wonderful it is,
We lose;
Always.
Whether we part for differences or in death,
We lose;
Always.
No matter how much we try to hold on,
Change ourselves or our other,
Govern and protect the relationship,
We lose;
Always.

Thus, why do we do it?
We do it for the moments that will reside with us,
Always.
For the craze and lust.
The fury,
The fervor,
The obsession, infatuation, excitement.
For the zeal, enthusiasm, passion.
We do it for us;
To penetrate over into,
Our partner.

Me and You,
We wanted it all.
None of the pain,
Just the good stuff.
Well, we had it.
The good, the lovely.
What a surprise!
But then,
As Always,
We lost.

We lost ourselves,
Our way.
The rhythm and balance
We perfected.
How did we not see it coming?
Stumbling on to a new realm.
One in which we operate alone.
The composition wrecked.
We smashed into that brick wall.
Afraid to leave,
Co-dependent.
I knew you wanted out.
Maybe a break?
You opposed it.
We could not come back from it.
I could feel the coming loss.
But not in the way I expected.

A trip!
To get us back.
The excitement could mend us.
It did for 72 hours.
Then the ultimate force of depature
Came upon.
In a small elegant English hotel,
You died in my arms
On a Saturday morning in London.
Thirty five hundred miles away from home.

The initial shock blasted my mind and body.
The detonation of torment pierced my soul.
Unadulterated suffering terrorised.
I lost my equilibrium and steadiness.
Embarking in an unknown world,
Where the dwellers seethe with agony.
A spot was saved for me there,
Where fumes suffocate.
A Hell on Earth
Where Innocence is Lost.

Gray. The gray walls. The gray desk. The gray chair.
Even the gray teacher stares back at me.

I look outside to only find myself in company with
The trees. The green, vibrant, and lush buds of the trees..
Oh, how I’m intoxicated by its beauty.

I keep staring out  the pain window glass..I am in the tree,
Touching the velvet buds, looking down at the purple, pink and Yellow roses and daises budding.
Nothing gray can be found here!

I am snapped out of my day dream by the gray paper and gray Pencil landing on my desk. The gray voice saying you have
A gray amount of time. It’s wrong…It’s wrong! It is
ALL wrong! What is heaven to hell, like gray to nature?
I long for freedom, color, and vibrance…not gray bars!
A jail cell! That is what it is!

Substance!
I need substance to sustain me or I will feel empty!
Time is ticking..the buds are turning..my life will
Soon be consumed by gray but I won’t let it! Break
Those gray bars holding you in this cell and just a
Touch upon those green buds…that new life…will
Make all the difference. I can not be put in this reality.

I live in my fantasy. I want to be free with the yellow
Sunshine raining on me. Back in my daydream..but
Now it is bitter-sweet you see. More! I want more
Than gray! I want to feel chills run down my spine as I
Touch the supple leaves of the willow trees and the buds
Of the daises.

The sunshine is pouring on me and I am
Just about to reach out and glide my fingers
Along the smooth branches…until I am snapped
Back into a reality.

I see gray. The teacher calls another gray amount
Of time. My paper is blank, but my mind is not.

It’s time to slump back into my gray world you see,
Because my Fantasy can’t last forever. Only until
The day I am resurrected when the final bells ring
Freeing me from society will the gray Melt away.
The gray teacher carries on and on...but I look back
Outside you see,
And I don’t feel so empty.

Sometimes a smile doesnt say
'im okay'
Sometimes it means
'im trying to be  *brave...'

Summer

Wind chimes and the clock ticks me away.
                     I am waiting for something,
                               losing other things,
                                   like my fingers
(when I pointed at stars to try and read them)
                            and my ribs, one by one,
             (trying to hold myself upright)
I don’t know what it is I am waiting for
but it has its foreshadow in the air
felt on the outskirts of my lungs.
                and now it’s inside my lungs  
                  and all the same:
I don’t belong to myself anymore.

I want to take the batteries out of every clock
because suddenly I can feel everything dying.
Running but running out of time-
but how do you even go about a tantrum
when you'll never get what you wanted in the first place.
        I must be a child or an idiot or losing marbles
        but can't help the crying, making a fool of my face.

Autumn

Hands pull me back into my sleeves
and blood runs back into my heart.
It was not something I waited for. It was someone.
                so I placed my bet on the smallest, sanest sun,
                      but still, I gathered frost
                       and shed my light
                     until refusal words were all swallowed.
They become enslaved stars
while I am realising that those I once read
had always belonged to someone else.

Winter

Gravity rolls its eyes and asks,
‘Why do I even bother?’
The universe came in and hungry
               when it expanded
                 and everything got eaten up
              until I was left with only these parts
        that belong to him
             and belong to the night-time
                and the lock.
My mind is in ashes.#
They have already been scattered.

But there was the bet I didn’t lose.
As it turned out, somehow,
in that lost state, I didn’t wage a war
that I couldn't win. .

Spring*

Love is portioned out and put in containers
and in the freezer on the bottom shelf,
next to something I made to eat later
before I can remember.
I won’t let anything melt.
I’m saving it for summer.

Tides are turning, i am learning, not to trust in anyone.
They are lying, no denying, Russian Roulette with a gun.
It's enough that, you regret that, you ever took a chance on me.
And now i'm trying, to stop crying, so that you can be happy.
I wish i could have, wish i would have, tried a little harder.
With every day, you step away, i can see you growing farther.
Days are older, nights are colder, without you in my life.
I just miss you, want to kiss you, regardless of the strife.
Tides are turning, i am learning, not to trust in anyone.
They are lying, no denying, Russian Roulette with a gun.
Lungs are burning, speech is slurring, attempting to forget.
Heart is pounding, feels like drowning, in too deep to quit.
My head is spinning, no one is winning, what is the point in this?
They all saw it, we never caught it, this was the biggest twist.
My heart was beaming, now it's screaming, through every night and day.
Don't try talking, just keep walking, there's nothing left to say.
Tides are turning, i am learning, not to trust in anyone.
They are lying, no denying, Russian Roulette with a gun.

I asked for someone who will stay close to me. Someone who can laugh and tease me as much as he can hold me. I asked for someone like you. You kiss me when I hurt myself. When I hit my arm on the coffee table, you grabbed it and placed your lips on it like it was nothing. Well, it was nothing to you. When you asked me to grab you a drink from the cooler, you grabbed my hand in yours and held it to your lips until I said yes. You always sit next to me, so close our legs touch, even when there's four feet of bench to sit on. And all at once I have the feeling that you are trying to send me a message, the message that you do have feelings, but I also sense that this all means nothing to you. I can't tell which feeling is instinct and which is insecurity, which is closer to truth or farther away. I doubt anything I feel is the full truth. I realized a long time ago that I cannot trust what I feel.

You flirt with every other girl you meet. But not like you do with me. At least, I think so. There are so many variables. When it's just you and I, you say things you don't ever say. When we were watching the fireworks last week, after you coerced me into sitting exactly right next to you, you said things that I may never forget. That you began to realize that you missed me far more than you thought. This is how you are when we're alone. Then, when we're with a group, you talk and joke with me like a friend, but you still sit with me, nudge me with your feet, talk and flirt with me more than the other girls around, you do still flirt with them, you stare at me, everyone has caught you staring at me. And everyday I'm hearing at least one other person tell me that you must have feelings for me, you simply must!

Our friends, my friends, my parents, all of these numbering at least a dozen people, have within the past week, pulled me aside and asked what was going on between us. When I say "nothing", their shocked faces and whispered confessions of witnessing your stares rebuke my assumption that you feel nothing for me. Sometimes you treat me with disdain, other times with affection and love, both these treatments mixing in with one another until I can't tell if you're confessing love or hate for me, or confessing nothing at all and I reprimand myself for assuming that anything you do means anything, that the most likely scenario is that I am nothing to you, and then I wonder if I am missing the meaningful moments altogether and all these thoughts and hundreds of thousands of others come crashing through my head everytime you look at me and then once again when you look away, forming this huge, cacophonous, bewildering mass of everything that's happened within the last five minutes and how it relates to everything that happened five days ago and everything one friend has just whispered to me and everything my other friend has confessed and how it all fits together and it's like a puzzle but some of the pieces are invisible and others are far too big to fit and hold very little of the picture and some pieces are almost microscopic and hold the most important parts of the image and there's no picture on the box to go off of, there's not even a box, it's like I'm sitting underneath a chute that drops more pieces of the puzzle on me, sometimes huge heaps and sometime single pieces, so I wonder what I'm missing if I'm missing anything and some of the pieces are from other puzzles so I don't know which ones even matter to me at all, and this is how my head is every second of every minute of every day unbeknownst to everyone around me.

This is how you make me feel.