The flames lick the wood, yet it does not catch fire
A drop of water occasionally falls from the leaves above, still wet from yesterday's rain.

Headphones cover the ears of a girl who is tired of listening

The hammock slowly rocks back and forth, it's motion so slight one hardly notices

The music blares on as her anger slowly diminishes while tears fall

Smoke floats by on a zephyr.

The embers gradually cool and the pulsing glow disappears into black ash

Each passing day is spent
With an early awakening
Followed by another morning realizing nothing fits right
And straight off towards the long right hallways
Clogged with moving obsticles on the racecourse for rushing from class to class
Blocks of time set aside to try to stay awake
A short break is offered at lunch where there is a quick relief
Then it's off to the mad races again

Shipped home I'm left grabbing quick food
and spending the hours that stretch into the night in solitude

Despite it all life seems great.
Friends accompany in the mad dashes, and offer much-needed laughs

But it's just a matter of time until something cracks
I can already feel the fissure forming on the fragile stone walls
The clock is slowly counting down to self distruct

Lately I've been chasing an impossible dream.
The dream that things actually work out.

I've had my taste of what life could be like,
Surrounded by great friends, a guy I actually have a chance with
It was all too good to be true

Everything has sunken into a void of nothingness.
I talk too much about myself but there's nothing else to say
Won't someone else please bring up something to talk about?

He has grown distant and I don't know how to act.
Something happened one day and it all changed
That weekend had been perfect but here it never happened

Everything was too good to be true
Nothing was meant to last

The cycle begins again,
I can see it all drift away

I have so much to say that I fear if I let myself talk
word will just spill out like a never ending river
Whether anyone listens doesn't matter
It's just writing is never enough,
if I attempted to write all I wanted to say
I would never stop writing

But for now I'll just keep patiently asking questions
the words inside building up

All I ever want to do is make you smile

I'm so sorry for bringing up a painful past

The more you understand how school works, and not just like "ew, I don't like homework" the more you realize what a scam it is. You work for grades, that doesn't even show if you actually understand the subject. And then you have to learn a TON of stuff you seriously will never use. I understand music, English, biology(for me because of doctor stuff) and math(to a very certain degree) and speech and Spanish.

However, we have to learn stuff about parabolas which you only use if you are an engineer or scientist(maybe) and then we waste hours of our life just sitting in a classroom and studying instead of bring out in the world making a difference, which is what I want to do.

And grades... If someone gets c or a b are they stupid? Maybe they just knew they would never use this Information and didn't try, being smart and living instead of wasting hours if their short life. Parents know that grades aren't good measurements, and yet they put so much emphasis on them! Because they, *** this is so stupid, they DETERMINE our whole future!!!! Why aren't we worrying about the kids in drugs and *** and in gangs??? But no, we have to worry for your future that you got a b on a test.

Please tell me how that makes any sense!

Maybe someday I'll figure myself out
Emerge from this muddled state of mind
With some form of understanding
of where I am going,
What my destination is
What my intended purpose is

But for now I'm wandering
through this infinate maze in my mind
where each dead end is a new idea or emotion

Why worry about what other people think about you

She the only opinion that matters is your own on yourself

Just be the best you can on your own and whoever can't handle that
well, that's their problem.

We never really need to know everything about a person
Their deepest worries, their darkest secrets, their most personal emotions.

And yet we spend so much of our time trying to find all his out
For what purpose?

Inadvertently, we are stealing a little piece of their life from them
It doesn't benefit us, we don't need to obsess, yet we do.

Maybe because we want to know that others feel the same way we do,
Maybe we just need to know that others have dark lasts as well


But don't we know this either way?

I want to be able to write a symphony,
something that touches the hearts of others,
something so beautiful you want to be a part of it.

But there is too much anger inside
resentment, frustration, rebellion
to ever stop and calm myself down
just long enough to write down
all the perfection I can see in the world
in little pockets of time

Oh course, guess who is the scapegoat again,
when your perfect boy lies to you
you don't even want to see the holes.

Do you really not trust me that much?
What have I ever done to deserve this?
I try to be that perfect daughter you want me to be

at least in your presence

but I'm done.

There are way to many huge flaws in everything
so I'm done with it all.

So many eyes
each and every one judging.

The only way to be free
is to keep
your thoughts
your heart
your words
in a secret

We are all fake
passing in the halls with a smile

did you hear,
have you seen?


shh


But that's it.
No meaning,
maybe a sharing of insecurities
but these are never understood.

We just judge,
and watch,
talk about others,
and talk behind each others back.

Will we ever just


                                                              ­      STOP






...and see what is going on here?

                                                          ­                                    We don't belong together


but there is no one else

We are just here wasting our lives,
crammed in a florescent room.
Pale walls, monotonous voice.
Expecting us to focus
on things that don't even matter.
While we could be out there
making a difference in something.
But instead they force us into
a florescent room with pale walls.

Toughen up* they say
It's no big deal, it wasn't even that graphic.

But it was you could see the pain in their eyes.
If I did "toughen up" I would be like everybody else.
unfazed because I knew of the cruelty of the world.

Yet, it is because of this fear I have of seeing others hurting others
that I am different.

I won't accept it as a part of life,
as something you can see in the movies and say it's no big deal

It is because of this fear
and me feeling what they do in the movies
those victims, those alone.
That feeling that I am them that keeps me up at night.

That is what makes me someone who will so something about it
and not just see this pain and destruction as something that's
no big deal in a movie theater or in real life.

Just because you know of the cruelty of the world
doesn't mean that you are going to do something about it
It doesn't mean that you feel others' pain, and are empathetic.

I look back at everything I wrote,
think on how all those emotions had past
But they are still here.
I'm a different person
everyone around me is the same though,
no perspective can make it better,
this strange situation.
We are different people
these are different situations
While I look for a way out,
everyone is trying to find a way
to keep me locked in.

I'm always going to be fighting back
always in different ways,
against different persons.

But you are all the same.
You say you aren't the same,
that you aren't like them.

You are,
you always have been.

I'm already so painfully aware of

every

single

mistake

I make.

I don't need you pointing them out as well.
Every moment my mind is telling me
I'll never be good enough for anything
let alone anyone.

I act like I don't mind
One would think I brush everything off
But every moment I'm going over the past
What I should have done, what I shouldn't have
How I'm just one big mistake
And I just make everything worse.

All you are doing right now is giving my mind more proof
against myself.

I wish sometimes that people could be in real life as they are online
That I could just block them to clear my head
or delete them from my contacts so I wouldn't have to deal with them

It would save the cold shoulders
the tense atmosphere
and lives could change for the better

without having to spend it avoiding problems

Every time I close my eyes
I can see you sitting there on the curb.
I can still see the disapo=pointment, the hurt in your eyes.
I never thought that you would take my words seriously,
and I couldn't go back to you and explain.
Maybe we actually had a chance,
I could tell what was on your mind,
but then I spoke those words right before the rain came down
and I had to leave.
You weren't supposed to take my words seriously,
you were supposed to get that I was joking.
Now it may be to late to mend it.
I can't steal back that moment with your arm around me,
our heads close.
Before I pushed you away with those words.

That weren't serious.

Boy, why are you so serious?
People liked you because you were
happy, energetic...different.

What has happened to you?
Have you finally succumbed to what society wants,
what you said you would never do?

Where is your spirit,
your joy and weirdness?

Everything is gone,
every last trace of who you were.

Another perfect night of
A stomach full on ice cream
new memories with friends
favorite music playing late at night
after everyone has gone home
and the world is silent again

The night is cold and I wish you were here
so I could lean against you
with my head in the crook of your neck
your arm around me as I dream of being with you always.
Knowing you would never leave me.
Knowing I would always be there for you,
that we would always be there for each other
all the time and when the night is cold.

Like the empty roof over a house of anger,
there can be a place of escape
even in the most imprisoning places.

Somewhere were you can think as you wish
without someone deciding you have
to share your thoughts with the world.

A place where you can listen to what you want.
Something, anything other then their constant voices
drilling what they want you to do in your head.

Stuck in another jail house.
At least they let us walk from cell to cell on our own
before we have to sit (not even stand to stretch) for an hour
in a small, cold, stone room.
As they talk in monotone,
punishing us if we dare think about sleeping.

Tonight I'm missing you

Tonight I'm wishing you were sitting next to me on the couch
holding my hand, maybe reading a book
maybe we are talking about nothing
or just sitting there with my head in your lap
listening to the crickets outside, to the silence of the wind
coming through the open window.

I really don't know what I saw in you.

The boy who would talk with me past 1
not realizing a second past

But who would have to work on talking to me
in person.

We would run for three miles together
and only exchange a few sentences.

Somehow, though, that was enough for me.

I've been protecting myself for so long
always pushing back the oncoming walls.

It would be so much easier if someone would be there with me
then maybe we could break down all these walls together

and together we could live in peace

I'm not tall
               and that's fine
I'm not skinny
               and that's fine
I'm not a genius
               and that's fine
I don't shine in sports
               and that's fine
Five (great) friends are all I have
               and that's perfect

I'm not a lot of things
I don't have what everyone wants.

But I am me.
And I have music.
               and that's perfect

One can totally erase all the troubles,
the drama,
and stresses
with the simple action of putting in headphones.

I'm not crazy

             I                                                                '   m

                                         not

                                                                                                                        yzarc

                                                                     No

                I can't be

not                                                                                                                                                    again

                                     not again


not

notalready


not again


I'm not
     s
   t
                           a
              b
                                                                                                                                              l
                                              e

enough


yet

When a candle is extinguished
it can be by a gentle breath,
a soft shimmer of sound
tendrils of smoke drifting upwards
it's scent lingering before the memory is erased.

or

It can be extinguished by suffocation
all the oxygen burned out and the flame
gone
without a sign that it was ever lit.

I really miss you.
Never meeting you,
never seeing you.
I have no idea who you are.

But you are supposed to fill this little empty spot.

She is nothing like a puzzle.
When you put the pieces together in a puzzle,
you know what they are going to look like in the end.

She is more like a butterfly wing.
You have one pigment of colour
and the rest is a mystery.

Who knows how big the wing is,
what shape it is,
or how many different colors are hidden inside.

That little piece of pigment is the dark blue.
So dark that you think it's black
unless is catches the light at a certain angle

And I know there is true black in most of the wing.
I'm just out to find the splashes of color
that keep her flying.

An arrow spinning through space,
twisting amongst the stars,
playing with the constellations
flying with the comets.

Never hitting a mark
as it never had one.
Just some notion
a spark of an idea.

This little arrow
spinning among the the stars
in it’s easy freedom
It will spark a revolution

I'm overwhelmed with understanding.
And I can't share it with anyone

Because I can hardly understand it myself.

I need some type of drug
to wake me up.

Because I can hardly keep my eyes open
let alone figuring out the square root of x minus 78

Walking to and from classes seems like running a marathon
and even standing up is equivalent to lifting 1,000 pounds.

I need coffee
to get through the day

I'm known for being more
then just a little rebellious.

Yet, unknown to everyone,
my biggest fight, but main act of rebellion

Is believing.

That I can end up happier with another
then you two are.

Sister is wrong when she says it's just another little disagreement.
Driving two and a half hours away for two days of work isn't bad.

But you cannot leave an argument in the air when you leave.
Don't you see you just drained the whole house of any positive energy?

Boy, don't kid yourself.

Stop trying and getting in my way.
Even though it's annoying, it's worse then that
Now I'm being teased and sometimes getting in trouble
because of your little antics that my parents don't like.

Please, just get out of my way.

Fourteen blue eyes
Seven happy faces
Five futures
Two pasts
One marriage

An airforce officer,
doctor,
business man,
golf caddie
and an unknown.

One happy family

He set down the forks, spoons, and knives.

he put out the plates

one, two, three, four, fiv-

"Hey, honey?"
yes mom?
"He's not coming back. Don't waste space on the table."
but if he comes home,
it would make him really mad if I didn't set a place for him
"You don't need to worry about him anymore. We are safe here."

He picked up one fork
one spoon
one knife
and one plate

and put them back in the cupboard.


At least that's one less cup to pour...

There is just so much
anger
and
frustration
built up at both
him
and
you
At how he does nothing
to
fix
anything
and you just make what you two have
so
much
worse


That I do...


*nothing