I am the forest, the forest in meFinding the pieces and wanting to build againDo I build me? Do I build them?Who am I and where have I beenI've come to tell the story; the one from withinSeeking oh seeker. These wood are gone This story, the fawn. A glass seen through mourn.Where have you gone, return to us now! You cant have meEyes wide open; sing for my soulI rise from these woods, I seek from these shadows.Grazing sounds against metal throngsThe time is coming, who will you beI don't know, I DON'T KNOW!Find your story, the rise and seekStrums along this lake I seek, the virtue of life. My vengeance i/s meek. Find me in the sounds of the tales over head. I shall rise. I am here. The story is meISeeYouBurn.
Even if you don't feel it, try itStories written, stories found, the match ~ its set Letters converge and characters write~ beyond the threshold, they guide the lightAdventurer moving, explorer in sightLets push the dark away~*Ignitethelight*~
The Edge of Truth/Fear Its time Its time to give voices to all who believedThe time of reflections has come ~ face your value Who are you, space in time ensuesWe were rightalla . . l o . . . n . . <i>
Hearth The cadence of an uncontrollable fire calls me I can hear you, from echoes of a night long gone echoes of a night long here Fleeting footsteps upon fog listed trailsThe ivory seating, a song of believingMy story, might ~ a break upon the night BREAKShake the skys, let the earth tremble in our mightFleeting, flewing ~ earth ever movingThe Rumbling, the soaring SCREEAAAAMMMYELL Rage Duality Spit Fire NO! &
Hide and SeekCobwebs to A Cherry groveSinging of sorrows from deep below, a rumbling of sing song and water's lights glowTouching of light and the soothing sounds of might; the love of the break comes at morning's nightDarkness consumes the reverberations of the singing birdSearching and crawling, lost soul among feeling, the sorrowsEchoes of the signs left for us,A song of fright Sound where there is no sound. Breath where there is no fightWe are alone Was I always lost?fight me as I lay and fight me as I fray, tears of the forlorn Wailing into the night of forgotten sails This trail leads forever Sorrow's song lead meDrifting above, the world in silence Strumming cords of the <
Breathe of FireAmong the battered blades of grass, she laid dying. Gripping tightly, she began to rise . . . Defiance in her eyes . . .
PerfectionYour ego wants.It is sometimes disguisedas your heartor your mind.butYOU don't want.you simply A R EYour worldly desires tell youthat you could bericherprettierhappierwhen everything you needyou already have.
if only for the night.she did notwant love, she wantedthorns twisted in hersteel fingersdigging into thesharp metal. sheneeded to b r e a kpeople. and she hadthe devil in hereyes and death onher skin:a walkingdisaster. shetasted likedanger incarnated;i knew by theway she wrapped herhands around mywrists she coulddestroy me. sn / ap mybones at will butshe never did andthe blue of her eyesdrownedme inchangingtides ofliquid fire. we spent one nightstaring at theceiling tracingconstellationson paper-skin andpretending to beartists of the universejust to feelalive.(before she left welay side by side at dawn withour chests splintered.)
A world of porcelain peopleWe live ina world fullof prettyfaçades; everyoneis a livingmasqueradein thisday and age:pick up yoursmiling faceat daybreak anddrape it over theviolet stainsbeneath youreyelids;walk aroundaimlessly -we are allsleepwalkers,eyes open butclosed.we are all pretty porcelain peopleliving in a pretty porcelain worldand our masksare startingto crack.(and reveal the ugly truth)
LightLight pooled in the floes of her fleshthe warm tone of polluted amberit ran down the window,the stream broken in places by silhouettesand other such distractionsit spilled, soundlessand flooded silken sheetssetting adrift the skin and breath and whispers of herMachiavellian schemesto steal away into the polluted darkher sighs overflowed, sonorouspouring into the amber and blackthe constellations dotted along herdisrupted in places by the shadows of treesand other such poetry
Depression Isn't RealDepression isn’t true, my dearDepression isn’t real.It’s just a silly tragedyYou’ve forced yourself to feel.Anxiety is fake, my friendYou wonder why it’s there.But others have it worse than you!Stop forming false despair.Cutting is dramatic, love,It’s ugly, and it’s dumb.Why not just get over it?Is the attention fun?Suicide is stupid, dear,And selfish, if I may.Get over yourself, darling,Can you hear these things I say?Why aren’t you replying, love?Oh, where could you have gone?I never meant to hurt you, love,Did I say something wrong?Why aren’t you replying, dear?Depression isn’t true!…Oh, but yes it was, “my dear”...Just maybe not for you.
stardust. (you're beautiful)he'sout of orbit -interstellar spacedust in hisveins rise andfall witheach word thatdrips and poolsbeneath hishoneyed tongue;silenceis betweenhis knuckle-bones,sharp anddefined like theribcage of ababy bird, hismazarine eyeswere not made forthis earth butfor the stars.andsome days hefades in andout of reality likehe never reallywanted to be thereat all.on those daysi just thinkmy god, you really don'trealise how amazing you are.
DisappearSometimes, when I'm sadI remember that one time,All I had to worry about wasIf the bubbles I had blown, were about toDisappear.Sometimes, when I'm sadI remember that one time,I began to worry about the day thatMy childhood would simplyDisappear.Sometimes, when I'm sadI remember that some day,When I'm sitting with my husbandIn the old old house... my days will simplyDisappear.And that day,The day when my heartbeat isSilenced...The day when my breathTruly gets taken away.That's the dayWhen my worries, my concerns, my fears...Will simply... Disappear.
Porcelain I was porcelainI trusted you to hold meI would shine for youPolished to perfectionI was porcelainYou were a childCarelessYou didn't know what you heldYou let me fallDidn't care when I shatteredYou were a childI was porcelainBegging to be fixedBattered and brokenI was helplessI was porcelainYou were a childYou left me thereShattered on the floorPretending it didn't happenPretending it wasn't youYou were a childI was porcelainAnd you were a careless childOne day I hope you realizeYou didn't know what you heldYou broke the family heirloomI hope you regret it
your poemyou tell me on a thursday that you can’t findthe god inside of yourself anymore, thatyou think that you are finallytoo much honeycomb and not enough humanbecause lately everything has been slippingthrough your fingers, and you don’t know how you cankeep holding yourself together anymore.if today is the day that you lookat the stars and you no longerfeel their burn beneath your bones,i will show you the blanket i tried to makewhen i was eight, and i will tell you all i knowabout the string theory, which isn’t much, i admit,but i do know the basics,and that’s that everything in the universeis composed of strings that somehowloop onto each other infinitely.so whenever you feel like you’rewalking a tightrope without a safetynet below you, know that you arethousands of tightropes strung together,and one fall will not kill you.i have never told you about the wayi can feel my pulse skitter to a stopin my wrists whenever i hear you laughing
star believersThey landed on the walk of many stones, fully open to the interstellar system which had grown between them. continuous rhythm of life. A night’s gaze facing the evening bliss. The bringers of light, compelled to create. stare . dare to dream