Does that make me Different?I wear make up. Does that make me fake?I cry. Does that make me emo?I have male friends. Does that make me slutty?I smile a lot. Does that make me weird?I laugh loud. Does that make me preppy?I have anxiety. Does that make me a freak?I have Bipolar Disorder. Does that make me abnormal?I respect people. I change for me, and only me. I have a past, but I know I have a future.Does that make me different?Maybe.But at least it makes meMe.
FrostbiteNumbnessI can’t feel my toes and at first I thinkIt’s just my toes.I can cover them up.I can warm them. It spreads, like fire,Like ice.I glance away for a second, it seems, and my feet are coldPat –patThat’s funny, I didn’t feel thatMaybe I’ll cover them up tooI’ll warm them up. I’ll take a napMaybe a short rest will make it all better, warm themUp…What’s that? How long has it been?My legs… are you still mine..Why has my breath left me, short?Has everything but deserted me? What about you, are you still here?Are you still with me?Hello?And before I can say goodbye, I think my thoughts are leaving me too –
You'll Never Understand...You'll never understand...But I'm glad you don't.Because that would meanYou'd have to go through my pain.And I'd never wish thatFor you.
Sleeping Beautyshe’s in love with a character whonever existed but in the labyrinth of her head:a patchwork composition of beautiful, lengthy wordsshe’d heard in her catatonic state; coma livingday in and day out, reliant on the salvationof a man made of foreign wishingand imperfection and necessity – an ignorance of the less than ideal perception of self she’d come to fear, absention stained romantic to the pointwhere daydreams were a standard for survival(real living is for the purposeful of heart,he loves her in her sleep)
UneditedWe cry.We scream.We fight for our dream.We scream.We cry.We're just waiting to die.The same emotionswith a different drive.Sometimes dead, sometimes alive.The same in one way,different in anotherbrother and sister, sister and brother.So close in feeling,so different in the end.Falling apart, or finally on the mend?Which am I?Will I ever know?Fighting to stay or ready to go?Maybe I'm both,in some impossible way.Emotions oddly mixed everyday.Wouldn't surprise.I'm such a freak.Excuse me, I laugh, I should call it "unique"
Happily AloneHonesty,She does not have,Personalities,She has many of them.A million shields,a million personalities,She's always changing, to fit every person around her.If one were to ask why,she would answer with,I will never reveal my weaknesses, because she's evil.She hates everyone,stupider than her is barely tolerable, smarter than her is too scary, She hates it all.She leaves the world behind,To one she has dreamt of,No color, nobody else.Then, she will smile,why,because she is truly happy alone.She is not evil,She does not hate you, She is not dishonest,She simply wants to be alone.
lifelinesI fear the sound of sparrowsand the density of leavesagainst dew-muffled blades of grass,and I'm drowningin the sky.My skin has learned howto peel itself off without causing a commotion in my marrows or even show the slightest hintof pain,and my heart has learned howto hush the stars in their wakeand keep it all a secret.There's a sea in my mouthand I can't swim. There are lifelines cast like these and it will all end with the same tragedy.
We are the King and Queen of Broken DreamsStanding still in a mine field, staring at all we have left.We were so young, we didn’t stop to think.Now we’re in a car crash, teetering on the brink.If you were to leave me now, I don’t know what I’d do. It was a whirl wind romance,A light when all was black, a spark of something when all was bleak.You swept me off my feet and made me feel brand new.I thought we could live forever and I’m certain you did to. We built a house without foundationsAnd now we’re falling down,Everything’s crumbling around us, time slipping through out fingertips.People used to walk past us but they were to drunk to see,That our lives are coming apart around us, there is no light as far as we can see. There was no fire to start with,Just two broken things, the world had left behind.The casualties of other people’s dreams of power, money and control,Spat out onto the curb to rot away and die.We never stood a chance or so
of seafoam thronesFrom Atlas’ hands she wept to me,atop Africas and South Atlantics;this is one situation unaffected byember eyes and windy lashes(it has no anatomy).You are sparrows strandedin tiny crevices and cliffside love,though you rebuke flightin the fear of chipping feathers. So what do you do?You reach for my soul,coveting flight with shakingdainty arms…and perhaps I’ll let you:With flytrap lips and glass shaped hips…you are unfit for anything butsight.(But beauty isn’t everything)
Falling off the EdgeDo you know what it feels like?To nearly fall off the edge,but not quite...just so that you're dangling;clinging for your worthless lifelest it fall into the sea of loneliness. Your callused, pink fingers turningto a shade of purplish-red of painas it does it best to hold on.Splash.In the sea of loneliness,everything is crisp, translucent. There is nothing around you,you are alone...unlike other people,you have no one clamouring to save you;you have no onediving in to get you out.There is no pointscreaming for help,you will only wastethe little time and air you have left. You only have the darknessof the sea envelop
Ashes on the SandWe put you ina crystal boxsmall enough for meto hold in myhands(and that thought gives mechill bumps)The tide was highwhere we took youand I remember thinkinghow pointless it was(you were just going to washup on the shore)Everyone was quietand some people criedand as you were tossedout to sea like somany grains of sandI thought how muchI missed you(Now I think how muchI hate youfor leaving)
A Charmed LifeDoll-faced men and sinkholes, ancient tombstonesLeaves piled ankle-deep, falling downOld wells, old graves, old friends lostPirate adventures in Neverland Don't go into that barnPonchoboy and Rangergirl rise from the ashesFrom the cold river, from afarRemember before they were born, how theyHeld hands and jumped into the worldDon't go into that schoolLadybugs, pennies, notes from the dead sun eclipseScrape the inside of your skull for cluesAll the old dreams are still there, petrifiedYou are a rock of ages gibberingDon't go into that factory
PerfectEver had the feeling where you can't stop looking at a picture?Your gorgeous face makes me smileGo weak at the kneesMakes me giggle like a little girlThose morning textsAll day conversationsRandom silly things like thatMake me smileI see the led light flash the colours I've set for when I get a message from youMy heart fluttersMy cheeks flushI go deaf to the world when I'm reading a message from youIf your downI'm always there for youI know you don't want to worry meI know you want me to smileBut I'm always here for youNo matter how you feelI'd prefer to helpThan for you to be downYour gorgeous eyesAre mesmerisingYou
weight of the worldand suddenly--it was like the world decided that it didn't want to carry its burden any longer, so it shifted the weightinto the hollows of my bones and told me that it was my problem now.
UntitledThere is a loneliness that can come to subsistence in mandeeper than the great submarine sinkhole of Belize;a crawling phthalo blue sadness stolen off of a Picasso palette of familiar numbing pains.I recall having heard themas they bid adieu- to me, another newly extinct species;some of us are meant for doom like stellar sea cows, with only our skeletal frames remaining.Our squeaks muted all too soon in the darkness of the shade.So it goes: life can drag a few of us blow by blow, skewing our limbs and broiling our skins by very heavy venom.