ShipI missed you todayI regretfully say,My feelings are tidesmoving every which wayThe image of youshall be washed apart,As the shore and the oceando gently departAnd the way that my feetleft prints on the sand,Is the way that I feltwhen you held my handBut it's time to move on,this ship's found new land,The anchor is sunk,and I will withstand
Melancholy thoughtsI tastethe sweetnessin your words,only to wonderhow many othershave tastedthem too.
The tough gets growingI'm knee-deep in mud,grumbling and mumblingabout what I didto deserve this messAnd my mother glares,saying,"When I planted you,I put you deep in the dirt,not to bury you alive,but to teach you thatwhen the growing gets tough,the tough gets growing."
SavedYour tangled up soulhas taken a toll,Hiding dark and deepthe secrets you keepThe tears you have shedfrom thoughts in your head,Dear they were all fiction:a made up addictionI want you to knowI see through the show,I know that your eyestell genuine liesI watch as you feignas you’re still in pain,And my soul will be toountil I have saved you
Thoughts I'll never tell you3am.it seems nighttimehas never looked this dark(or maybe my emotionsare just blurringmy perception)squinty eyes turnto my alarm clock:a lighthousein the roaring black seadelirium fades,as the dreams l o w l ycomes backHow can I miss someonewho wasn't even mine?
GoodbyeI want to mutter a million things,but they’re catching in my throatAnd my heart is heavy in my chest,with a weight that holds a heavy loadThis weight is not a pound of gold,but rather a pound of worthless rocksAnd now I’m spitting bits of gravelas I try to talk
Barb WireYour barb-wired brainwon't let me in,and I'm getting cuttrying to jumpthe fence.
Candle WaxYou meltmy heartlike candle wax,but I'm afraidover timeI'll getburnt.
Pretty metaphors are for pretty girlsI told you to stopspewing pretty metaphors at me,for with each elaborate comparison,I feel a bit moredetached from this worldAnd maybe I don’t feel so strong at the moment,but would you beif you felt like the entire universewas resting upon your shoulders,and someone was just there saying:But you’re stronger than the powerful beatsof a butterfly’s wingsAnd maybe I do need more confidence,but would you exuberate itwhen the part you hated most about yourselfwere the freckles that have speckled your face for years,and someone was just there muttering:They’re not flaws,but rather stars that form constellationsYes, I can’t help but hateall those unrealistic metaphorsyou choose to pelt at me when I’m low,yet the irony is,I know that those beautiful wordsare realistic in your eyes,So I can’t hate you.
A message to the brokenYou drown yourselfin liquid sorrows,letting the salty messburn your wounds,and the sadnessto drip in your mouth,consuming your wordsand you sayyou deserve the pain,but I want to dry your face,and whisper in your earhow the clouds cry too,while they hold such beauty,and so do you.
Get Lost"Get lost," they said vindictively:A knife stabbed through my soulAnd being young and ignorant,I took these words so cruelI swam through roaring oceans,and I trekked the mountains highI spent time on deserted landwith me, myself, and IAnd as I wandered aimlesslyacross these untouched placesI realized to get lost,you must seek a destination
Sheets“I adore you,”she said, whimsically twisted in the rippled gossamer sheets of their bed.And in these words were memories of weather-worn love letters,long kisses with smeared roseate lipstick,and layered mascara outlining her chatoyant eyes,for he loved the way it looked.“I misspoke,”she said months later, tightly grasping the rippled gossamer sheets of her bed.And in these words were soiled and crumpled goodbye notes,untarnished roseate lipstick on her opulent lips,and smeared mascara, creating an ashy mess on her pillowcase,for who cares if he used to love the way it looked.She whispered to empty sheets,“I meant abhor you.”
Lonely:When you'reso unwantedthat evenyour thoughtschooseto exityour company.
On VulnerabilityI want to stealthe bark off trees,and cover myown skin,for thenand only then,can I protectwhat lieswithin.
Atelophobia Atelophobia The word sticks to my tongue like cotton candyThe sweet, fluffy combination of lettersstruggling to embody a correct connotationAnd even the dictionary definition seems sugarcoated:"Fear of imperfection."Is that what they say when I'm up until 3am,editing my English paper for the umpteenth timeThe tick-tock tick-tock of the clockpromptly proliferating the roomAnd I just sit there changing good to great,and peaceful to quiescent,hoping that my teacher will be drunk in his bungalowwhile he grades my chicken-scratch calligraphyAnd he’ll see stars instead of how horrid it isOr is that the word they use,when I struggle to consume a 25-calorie chunk of chocolatebecause I just know it will go straight to my hips,or when I step on the scaleand watch the black dashes zoom bylike a carousel spinning,And as the twirling and whirling makes me sick,I know throwing up still won’t make me thinAnd is that the term they mutterwhen I'm sob
PalaceThis palacewe've built for ourselvesisn't going to last foreverand I can already see the vines growing,and the cracks forming,and the walls crumblingdowndowndownto the ground thatis falling awayAnd I just can't understandwhy it is so hard to builda beautiful creation like we have,yet so easy to destroythe masterpieceonce it's made
It's okay to be imperfectThe moonhas craterstoo,and lookhow brightit shines,even inthe darkestof times.
Dear DeathI sink my kneesinto the sodden dirtsurrounding the graveof a human long goneI touch the stone'schiseled cursive wordsand trace the letters:how gelid they've becomeI stare at the flowersthat people have left;upon the plot,ham-handedly choppedAnd I contemplatemy inevitable deathhoping no flowers are leftfor the message they possess"I'm trading life for death."
Fly little childChild of air and lighthiding within a cageof leaves and twigswhy do you not rise?One who hangs so near to the skyhas no right to neglect itto return to the groundand crawl amongst the worms beneathlike those you chose to rise abovelike those who can only aspireto be so near to the sky as you.Child of feather and beautyHanging between wonder and despairto do not hear the sound of your wings' sadnessdo you not hear how they weep?How they beg for a returnfor a chanceto bask amongst the cloudsfor which they were meant to see.Children of wonder and sunlightwill rise above your chainsof fear and hoplesness?Rise and fly above me , above the Earthabove all of usand let us watch from the shadows of your wings.Little childwill you fly for yourself,will you fly fo
she's gone, she's gone.don't tell a broken girl withgrief pouring into the juts of her cheekbones,hunger suffocating into the curves of her ribs,that her eyes are madeof moonlightand her hair was weaved fromsunshine when you arelight years away and millennia too late
...when death put its handon my shoulder,it shivered;i was alreadycold.
In needTake my hand. I won't let go.
And he saw the moon.Hidden away from his heart and homeand after his tears had been stolen away ,he looked up to skyand saw the moon.He wondered what this radiancethat still shined upon himwas, for even the sun had forsaken him and he blessed it and deemed it his savior.Hidden away from love and lightand after his hopehad been stolen away,he looked up and saw the moon.And each night he prayed to its light's benevolenceand would place a chair beneath it and reachbelievinghe was closer to its kindness.Hidden away from his wonder and worryand after his carehad been stolen away ,he looked up to skyand saw the moon.And he began to believeand his belief cemented tilhe began to knowthere was no light<
.you break freefrom the grip ofthe oceanjust to die inthe arms of the shorefrom exhaustion
How she searchedShe searched ,with bandaged handsand burned armsfor the warmth of a soulin the caked facesof false men.She searched ,with filthy handsand blind eyesfor joys of lifein the gravesof those who knew only its tragedies.She searched ,with livid handsand false smilesfor the beauty of realityin the shadowssmeared upon her wallsand in the moonlightglaring down upon her. She searchedwith manicured handsand lyrical wordsfor godsin the approvaland recognition of men.She searched until she finally foundbut the very things for which she searchedsearched in her and foundnothing,but two hands with blind eyesburned armsfalse smilesand lyrical words.
Trust MeI know, I knowHow bad things can get,When all you feel is regretAnd you just can’t forgetThe crack of your heart breaking.I know, I knowHow it feelsTo hold a blade to your skinAnd feel like just to breatheIs a painful sin.I know, I knowHow it feelsTo be so utterly aloneThat you talk to the voiceInside your headAnd winding up deadSeems like the only solution.I know, I knowHow it feelsTo believe that it won’tGet better,But guess what?It does.The darkness is temporaryAnd even though it’s scary,Don’t forget that it gets better.Even after the darkest nightThere will always be sunlight.There will always be peopleWho love you,Who want to help you;They are just waiting toBe let in.Try to smile every day –It might be a long way away,But one dayThat smile will be genuine.I promise.Life can be hard, I knowBut please don’t go,Because tomorrowThe world might showYou how beautiful it can be.
Anything You WantI could write you a sonnetBut, well, I’m no poet.Fourteen lines of words,That only mean as muchAs you believe they doCannot describeMy love for you.I could sing you a song,But, no, that’s all wrong.Someone else’s words,Or even my own,Cannot graspHow you makeMe gasp.I could draw you a portrait,But, no, wait,Art isn’t my forte.And besides,No pencil could showExactly howYour eyes glow.I could take you away,But, no, we could just lay,Here for forever.And no vistaCould ever compareTo yourStunning stare.I could give you my heart,But, no, let’s not startOn how bad a giftThat would be.Let me just say,My dear, today,I love you, just how you are.
Cement HeartI built a wallaround my heart,and sworeI'd never let you inbut the more time thatI spend with you,allows the beatsto crackthe cement.