Back

When the days are too hard and the nights too rough
I go back, back, back
Back to the place where it all began

Back to the days filled with innocence and play
A time when dreams, dreams, dreams
Dreams were never too far away

Back to the red house with the stone steps and white linen sheets
Stairs that would creak, creak, creak
Creak with the pitter-patter of tiny feet

Back to the humid summer days with cicadas and sun
Listening to their chirp, chirp, chirp
Chirp until the day is done

Back to the woods with their mystery and awe
Getting spooked by crows, crows, crows
Crows with raspy high-pitched caws

Still need to finish...

Ballad of the Heart

Boys, boys, boys. Whatever can I do?
Each of them I gave my heart, and they tore it through and through.

First there was the athlete. Tall, strong, and fine.
I thought I never had a chance, but wrong I was this time.
Things went well for quite a while, six months to be exact.
But slowly things began to fade and we dropped the silly act.

Second was the trickster, full of cunning, deception, and lies.
Telling me sweet nothings, to ease my heart's lonely cries.
How much I wanted to believe, that all he said was true
But when I found I was just a prize, that really would not do.

Third was the overzealous flirt, whom every chance he'd get,
Would force his lips against my skin, and squeeze me half to death.
He did not care for what I thought, only for my looks instead.
And so he then confessed to me, he wanted me in his bed.

Boys, boys, boys. There's not much I can say.
Each of them I gave my heart, and they hurt me in some way.

Fourth along was the player with his confidence and style.
He had no need to really try; he hooked me with a smile.
The things he said sounded so nice, but he did not follow through
He let me down. I had so much hope. My heart, it broke in two.

Fifth of course was the Frenchman, a friend of years before.
Accompanying me to the Homecoming dance, he became a quite bit more.
Again I heard the words of affection, but the actions did not show.
I finally had had enough and regretfully let him go.

Sixth came the best friend, who stood by me all those times.
He helped me face the hurt I felt from the others and their crimes.
He always wanted to be together; with that love, he smothered me.
I could not breathe. I needed out. I told him to let me be.

Boys, boys, boys. I can't help but love them still.
Each of them I gave my heart and they waited for their kill.

And now I come across number seven, a lucky number indeed.
I want to continue along this path, but am afraid where it may lead.
Seven is a decent guy, with wit, and smarts, and charm
And there is a peace I can only find, when I am in his arms.

Shall I go forth in blind trust, and see what seven will bring?
Or should I just build a wall and consider it a fling?
Could it be he really feels the way I feel for him?
Or am I just another girl he wanted on a whim?

Boys, boys, boys. The choice is up to you.
My heart, I am willing to give. What will you now do?

Lord

i think im going insane...

Seperation

My writing really does say it. It tells what my heart longs to shout. So seperated am I, between my mind and my heart. I follow my thoughts on a daily basis, not my heart. I lock that thing away, so that it can not interfere with my normal life. I supress all the feelings and emotions to the best of my ability, letting only those that, for the most part, can not harm to the surface. At some points though, it becomes too much, and my carefully structured world comes crashing down upon me. My mind becomes an instrument for my heart, writing out what my soul only wishes it could scream. Such is the content of my art. My stories. My poems. The secrets which I hold that plug up the holes in my heart. The feelings that I do not allow myself to feel. The fears that plague my every hope. The things that shouldn't and normally are not acted upon. My heart is tearing itself to shreds, trying to release all it can, while my mind looks the other way. Such is my life. My mind and logic rule me over the day until my heart takes over during the night, spilling out my gut. What a hopeless mess.

Safe

A feeling of comfort
Nothing more
Safety is a fleeting thing

Just the way his hand felt
Pressed against mine
Finger tips entwined

How I longed for that hand
To stay close to me
Never leaving me behind

I could take on the world
With his hand in mine
Giving me much needed strength

I felt safe together with him
Oblivious to the world around
The list of issues growing in length

But a feeling of comfort
Nothing more
Safety is a fleeting thing

I thought I held him close
To the fire of my heart
Warm and here to stay

Close so that he wouldnt leave
The warmth of his hand
Slowly fading away

I felt fingers untangle
The heat begin to leave
The slip of his hand from mine own

The panic engulfed me
The fear that he would go
To leave me all alone

Don't leave me yet
I don't have my legs
Sturdy on the ground

I try and grab hold
His nimble fingers
Silently dancing around

Grasping and grabbing
Unable to hold on
To that which is not there

One last attempt
I grasp with my hand
Feeling the empty air

A feeling of comfort
Nothing more
Safety is a fleeting thing

Realizations on "The Breezeway"

So I gave that poem to my English teacher to look over and then discuss with me, and he came up with some pretty profound insights. We first went over the title of the piece itself, The Breezeway. We talked about what a breezeway actually was at first, how it is just like a hallway that allows the passage of the breeze between bulidings and such. We then however, began to take into consideration the title in relation to the poem. The poem he said, was like that of a love poem, which in a sense it was a little bit, but at the end, it turned into something a little more complicated. The verse, "It dawns on me that I will never be alone, that people such as he will always be there to see me through all times" seemed to him having more of a temporary feel to it. As if right now it's this boy, but there will always be others to take his place. And at this point, the title comes into play. The breezeway allows the breeze to come and go, never stopping or waiting, constantly passing by. In relating that to the poem, it would be saying something to the effect that boys come into my life and then leave with the wind and I assume that another one will just blow in, and so the cycle would continue. Was this poem about just another lover? Keep in mind, this is all speculation, and by no means did I intend the interpreted ideas to be reached, but it is definitely food for thought. Is some of it true?

Curious...

How most all of my poems are based upon love or sadness. Even stranger is the fact that I can't normally write unless I'm feeling one of those two emotions. Hmmmmm...

What I can't tell you

Cold, sitting in a dark room.
Can't anyone see,
That little girl,
With her knees up and
Tears streaming in a darkened room

Everyone passes,
No one can see.
The little girl sits waiting
For the one chance at freedom
Release from this pressure

She sinks,
No one to listen,
No one to hear,
Her crying in that dark room

Do you realize

Hearing your voice.
It's like birds singing.
My heart
It melts
Longing to hear one more word.
Do you realize?

Realize how much I like you?
Realize that this is new for me too?
Do you know I make mistakes
And that I don't realize I do?
Do you realize?

I see you
In pictures,
And long to see you
face-to-face.
It breaks my heart
How busy we both are,
But
Do you realize?

Have I made myself clear?
Do I need to repeat?
I don't know how to put it
And I wish I did,
But
Do You Realize?

The sparkle in my eye.
I haven't seen the light is so long.
Yet you come and I see!
I truely see!
Do You Realize?

Now I wonder,
Do You see?
My feelings are open.
You hurt
I hurt.
You laugh,
I laugh.
Do You Realize?!

Gone

There are some things you can’t associate with words
They are just,
Indescribable
Like the way I feel
It’s not just one thing
It’s a combination
An endless struggle within myself
Unmentionable feelings that eat away at me
Leaving only a hollow shell
Memories that best be forgotten
Resurface and scar
They drain me until nothing’s left
Forever rotting
As if life itself was tormenting me
But nothing can be done
It just builds and builds
The intolerable pain,
The pain of loss,
The loss of love,
The love of none
Moments of happiness come and go
But never stay for long
They disappear just as suddenly as they come
Nothing is constant
Only turmoil resides
I feel weak
I feel old
I feel empty
Looking back only makes it harder to go forward
The warmth is gone
Sleepless nights leave me cold and alone
I feel as if impending disaster is near
So close
But biding its time for the grand finale
Waiting for the perfect moment to strike
The moment to ruin my life
And yet make it perfect
I am scared yet anxious
Relieved for the end
But pained to watch it go
But the relief of being free is overpowering
The need to leave all the
Anger
Sadness
Disappointment
Heartbreak
Longing
Regret
Shame
Incompetence
Foolishness
And pressure
Behind