To Die Young

I can feel my soul wilting and drying up through my days. Even as you see me smile, just remember that it’s fake. I can feel a physical pain in my chest. I have always worried over the troubles of others and made them my own. Now, I find that it is no longer in my capacity to care. As I walk through the days I must paint my façade of joy upon my face. Some days I cannot even manage that. I do know what is wrong with me. They needn’t tell me, in fact, I wish they will not say it aloud. I just want to know how long it will be until it is all over. I want to know when the pain will seize. Don’t you understand why? I must know the time, I have many things to do you see. I have always been ever so busy; I cannot slow down for something so insignificant. These things must not be done in a particular order; they just need to be completed. When there is nothing left to be done then all there is, is the end. I want to know when so you can know when, to be there. That would complete it all. I know I’m being selfish but I don’t care. Would you stay with me, comfort me in my distress . . . would you hold me?  If you could, I would promise to go softly. You must wonder why I ask such things of you. You must notice that I love so many things in my life that I could not leave without something of me. The best thing to leave behind is always who you are and who you used to be. That is all of my heart, something I used to have enough of to give to all of them.  But now it is broken and leaking my soul. I cannot leave them something so violently sad and sickly. I am sure you could understand something so simple. If you could do me this small favor I know that my soul would mend and once again begin to glow. When it is over you may forget, but my soul will be around you in all those in my life that I truly love . . . and perhaps in your own heart, whether you know it or not. I’m not asking that much, really, I hope you don’t say no. Please, you are the perfect person to love me as I die.       

Only

Soooo. . . .


What else to say I do not know,

As you suddenly reach over the console.

This will only be out of my control.



It’s dark but not to dark to see,

While your arms begin to tug and pull at me.

At first I’m unable to comply.

It’s only my defenses making a pitiful try.



I don’t remember what you said,

But twice wrapped over my mirror is that beaded thread.

It’s there as I look up to see my forehead lined,

It’s only a small trace of what you left behind.



I finally climbed over to you,

Caught up in this feeling, so new.

So excuse me while into you I melt,

It’s only you that makes me feel so svelte.



It is hard to contain my feeling

My head is constantly reeling.

We are in so deep now,

We only came this far, to go back I must ask how.



I’m wound tight around your finger,

If this is what you want then please don’t linger.

I can tell you do want to leave

That’s only my heart there on your sleeve.



It was such a beautiful dream

How perfect it once did seem.

This is so unfair,

I try to tell myself, it was only a nightmare.



But I don’t believe it dear,

It happened right here.

It is still so real,

Not only your hands can I feel. . . . .

I can only feel what it is to be with you, to be a part of you, to need you . . . to feel you, and it feels so real, so where did I go amiss.

Deep in my heart I must truly know, that to you, it was only a kiss.

No Face

No, you’re wrong.


Eh, I’m coming undone.

Yes, in my head,

Oh, a painful throb.

My heart, last night,

Indeed, a happiness sight.

Though, it didn’t work out.

How could I see,

What an injustice,

She would do me?

I couldn’t have hoped for,

Better a friend,

But what a terrible wreck,

She was in the end.

I wouldn’t have believed,

For a second of time,

How, very loudly,

Her voice could chime.

And now as everyone,

Turns their eyes to me

Tears are all I see.

What it would have been,

Had you told me the truth.

But you didn’t,

And now I swear,

Instead of plead my own case,

I’d rather see fear,

Than to look at your face.

Trust Me With My Actions

Her heart was in a state so poor,
With shattered pieces laying about the floor.

Whence a strange thing occurred.
She thought, surely, her vision must be obscured.

So she wiped away all her tears,
To see with the knowledge of all her years,

A sight she knew could not exist to meet. . .
Still, within her soul she felt a faint beat.

A breathless being
For reasons they are not seeing. . .

Your belief that there is no good in bad,
Is truly begining to make me quite sad. 

We all judge, I too am guilty I'm sure,
But even after further explanation your feelings did not stir.

I have had enough I swear!
Your disapproval I cannot stand to bear!

So now I will write
With all my power and might,

All things I hold tightli a secret within my very soul,
As if into a looking glass, or a rather immense bowl.

All I ask before I start,
Is that you keep something open inside your heart. . . 

The Light No One Else Can See

I know you know me, so why can't you see? It's so bright this light I can see. I've been so lost, so confused, so hurt and broken. Now I've found something that is truly real, so real I can feel it, but you can't even see it. Can you even see me?

Yes I can see you. You shine brighter than the stars, your future defined, your dreams endless, and your chances solid.

Then how can you not see him?

He doesn't look like you.

Tell me, what is it that you see instead?

I see his angry scowl.

You don't see his smile?

Surely he does not smile through the madness of his own ways.

You're blind, you only to see his anger. I can see his cheeks broad and flexed upward in a grin so wide and proud.

Pride? (scoff) He has nothing to take pride in.

I think he has more than you think, after all we all strive for something. We take pride in the purely true things we do to get these things, and I see his honest work.

It doesn't count if he wastes it, you fool! Can't you see that?

I do see that, but it doesn't count if he doesn't see that. What if that is not his purpose?. . . I can see that.

Well, what's his purpose then?

He desires something else that all people desire, to fit in. What if that's where he fits in, can you truly deprive him of that?

I can see there are other places that he could have chosen for himself, better places.

I can see how you would think that. We all have places we belong but sometimes they are intertwined and laced together, not separate.

I don't see any good places in his world now.

Yes you do.

I see no place!

You see me. . .

Just Know That I Love You

Ok so this isn't really a piece of writing, it's actually a statement to anyone reading my blog, which is absolutely no one. I'm going to start another but it is just going to be posts out of my book, it isn't going to be in order and not all of it as I'm sure you can understand. it will be named 'Just Know that I Love You. " Well I hope you enjoy it, and please let me know if you do!

Growing-up

    We go through 2.5 years of our life thinking highschool is a nightmare. It sucks, we just want to graduate already. Halfway into our Junior yearwe realize that wht we really wan tis to go back to kindergarten. Then another fourth of our Junior year goes by and it finally dawns on you that you changed your mind. It went in the opposite direction, and you never even knew it.You are going into the real world. For real. You're parents have been hounding you, "you need to be more responsible, grow-up, act your age! You're not going to be able to handle college." and you brush it off. Yeah, yeah, yeah. You are completely convinced that they are underestimating you Then it hits you like a stinking cinder-block falling from the sky and landing on your darn pride. They were right all along. Infact, they were so right that they might even be wrong. We realize that they underestimated just how unprepared you truly are. You know, in that moment, that you do NOT want to graduate. Granted, yes, we all want the success, but what about wanting what you've got?. . .What about what you're losing? Your bestfriend, all of your friends, that safe place we like to call home. I don't mean the house you live in either. I'm talking the halls, lockers, streets and sidewalks, sites and sounds, even smells, and the absloute comfort that comes with it. That god darn cinder-block tells you that you are never going to have all of these things together ever again, even if you do stay. It's like a piece of your being, your life, your frail little heart just dies.Now you just need to grieve, but how do we grieve for our life? Is it eve possible? I think not. . . We will always miss highschool.