The Wheel of Fate keeps turning
It stops for no one
You're born and it starts hurting
Time starts to run
Light penetrates your vision
You feel incomplete
Blurry, a color collision
Her energy starts to deplete
You cry for the first time
Oxygen fills your lungs
They clean up all the slime
A mother holds her young
Covered in blankets
You feel safe
She signs a certificate
That marks your fate
I look at the people made of glass.
The ones who walk with grace and delicacy.
They break, easily.
Their shards and shattered pieces are
left on the ground for someone else to clean.
I see myself in the mirror.
Am I one of the the glass people.
No, I am stone.
Love.
Sometimes it's nice, sometimes it's not.
Love.
Sometimes they love you back, but most don't.
Love.
Sometimes you spend every waking moment thinking about them. And when you aren't, you're crying because you know they won't love you back.
Love,
What causes me to have self doubt about everything about my self.
Love,
Why I can not longer sleep at night without crying my eyes out.
Love,
That thing that makes me feel wanted.
Love,
What makes me happy cry, since I know that people have it for me.
Love!
Is it bad or good, because I don't know what to feel anymore... Unless that's the point. To feel loved.
Orchids,
You see the flower and think nothing of it.
A flower that everyone knows,
A simple thing
Yet complex in its makeup.
Different colors,
Vibrantly showing from
The inside
A flower that you walk by,
Admire for a few seconds,
And walk away from it,
Forgetting its momentary beauty.
Orchids,
A beautiful,
Forgettable,
Flower.
Forgive is to forget; but how do you forget a scar?
It's cloudy and the air is clean
With a light gray background
Why am I standing here?
I don't know if I have a lot of thoughts
or no thoughts at all
The memopad with the song I couldn't complete last night
I'll finish it today as I shut my eyes and let out a sigh
I turned my eyes to the window and everything looks gray
Gray city, gray buildings, gray roads, gray rain
Everything in this world is slow
You paint your feelings
Like a non artist
Trying to figure out
What art is.
I am learning, to be okay
When people walk away
Accepting, they have a part to play
And not everyone's meant to stay
I am learning, to walk alone
And not seek comfort in their embrace
To speak off my thoughts freely
And to accept rejection with grace
I am learning,to hold back
And not put my heart out to be played
For they would have made the effort
If it meant more than they displayed
I am still learning, how to love properly
Cause people have some twisted ways
Realizing it's not all its made out to be
Love often ends in disappointments and heartbreaks.
How is it that you know me?
So well?
You know when I’m happy.
You know when I’m hurting.
You know when I’m angry.
You can tell just by looking at me.
How do you see?
See past my walls?
I built them strong.
Unbreakable, or close enough.
Not see-through.
You seem to just pass through them.
Like they aren’t there.
I can talk to you about anything.
You seem to just sidestep the walls.
Like everyone’s trying to figure,
I lit candles on a wintry night
And revelled in its soft glow.
As it's vanilla aroma slowly diffused,
I slipped under covers,
And began to snore.
A rose with
a golden almost
orange like hue.
Is it bronze?
A bronze-hued rose
with leaves of soft and
fuzzy green.
Lime, right?
A bronze-hued, lime leafed
rose that little bugs
and birds drink from.
Bees and butterflies, correct?
A bronze-hued, lime leafed
bee haven rose.
A rose that hasn't
been picked.
find me in the Rhododendron
i'm hiding in the Rhododendron
beneath the pink shroud
outside is much too loud
for me
sheathed by the color of hope
i watch from the Rhododendron