Rose petals flutter in the wind, as if the air is kissing them.
But black ink spreads through the petals as they fly.
The flowers are dead, and the evil is boundless.
Beautiful things are corrupted so easily.

If my heart sailed onward like a ship at sea,
Drifting through the waters complacently,
I'd find peace somewhere deep inside of me.

Letting go is a tiresome trial,
My tears flooding the streets for up to a mile,
Proving the things that life spits at us are vile.

With a heavy heart, I'll keep on going,
Through this hazardous life of tear-flowing,
While the entire time I'll be knowing,
My heart isn't a ship,
And I'm not even rowing.

My entire heart rested with a young lad,
Who desired a body different than the one he had.
With physical features that didn't match,
His inside self, which couldn't be snatched.

But beauty revealed itself in his eyes,
Whenever he was with the one who dispelled the lies.
I know beauty when I come into its embrace,
And boy, that beauty emanates from the smile on your face.

Things are hard, and you just don't match,
But that's okay, you're a hell of a ******.
You're entitled to my beating heart,
Where you've definitely become a part.

Please don't fret for future days,
Keep staring into my loving gaze.
One day it'll all change,
And happiness will be within range.

Her tears fell like rain,
With an abundance of acid;
Whereas her lover's tears rarely fell;
As a person he was placid.

The rivers flowing down her cheeks,
Reminded him that he used to be not so weak.
When he cried, bleeding emotion like she did now,
He was a stronger person then, his soul a bough.

Now, weaker, he could accept the fact,
That when he let sadness dehumanize him, he made a pact;
No longer would tears fall down his face,
He would bury the emotions and lock them in place.

He wondered now if he was destined to be happy;
He missed the days when his trunk was damaged, sappy.
He hardened to a point far beyond desire,
Steely now, having quenched his inner fire.

He embraced her in their small living room,
Happy that tears wetted his shoulder, and that sadness loomed;
She was still human, she still bled emotion,
Something that for him was a distant notion.

To some, when a sun sets, it is the end,
There are no more things to fix, nor relationships to mend.
But to me, the sun only sleeps, it does not die,
It survives to meet the next day and rises high.

Your sun doesn't end, not unless you force it to,
It'll continue glowing each day no matter what in life you do.
That is good, people seem to lack hope these days;
In a heap of despair, mangled and broken, our hearts lay.

Reassemble yours, and help me to build mine.
I'll return the favor and safeguard yours for all time.
We all need to come together to help fix each other,
That is the key to understanding one another.

The inhabitants of this world are broken, fractured, I'd say,
And I believe that it has always been that way.
But we can try to advance to our best versions,
Stay focused throughout all of life's diversions.

Those we love often hurt us in inconceivable ways,
Our affection is tested, and like wind on leaves, sways.
What a bizarre thought, that love knows how to sting,
It's the material that all of those artists seem to sing.

When they're terribly frequent, the bouts of confusion,
We become a little less than ourselves, not human.
We wish harm upon those that we hold dear,
And what motivates these feelings is blatant fear.

Fear that we're not good enough,
Or that we don't contain the right stuff.
It's frightening to think our love is unrequited,
That those we care about fight it.

But remember, the problem isn't always you,
It isn't always a result of what you do.
The problem can exist in those we love,
Who don't understand that connection is a dove.

You tend to it, encourage it to fly,
Or strangle it and allow it to die.

She falls asleep, placing her head on my lap,
Lips murmuring that I smell good before taking her nap.
After her eyes close, I wait to see if she'll sit up again,
Talk to me more about the evil and good men.

But she doesn't, and snores slowly escape her lips,
And I forget about the vile poison she so often sips.
She finds comfort in my presence, is at ease,
Perhaps it has always been my duty to please.

If I can help her escape imprisonment,
She'll regain in her eyes that glint.
If I can be strong enough to help her kick the addiction,
I'll have remained her friend throughout the affliction.

Some fear blades, as if they can cut through into the soul,
But I love the devices that dull pain radiating through my whole.
The addiction, it began when the burdens piled up,
And my beverage of choice became poison in a cup.

Pills look appetizing in large amounts,
And the edge of that building seems built to mount.
It's hard to understand how someone can hate life so much,
That measures leading to death seem not like a crutch.

Rather, they seem like cures for this poison,
And honestly, I could care less whether or not it's sin.

The house creaks, for it is aged,
And we are leaving it to turn another page.
But the book is endless, and the pages never cease,
I don't think I'm ever going to get some release.

It's one bad story or another in this unending book,
And I'm always the protagonist, her, the crook.
But what makes crooks descend to such lows,
Is it because their lives, painful, were filled with blows?

So, it's torment to me, the helpless boy clutching his stuffed animal,
Who never moved on from seeing abuse: it took a toll.
How do I help her but protect myself at once?
The poison slinks toward my lips through the passing of the months.

Father fell for fancy,
And announced amorousity.
Today, though, transferred to tree,
He held hope, heedlessly.

Enough, eight eves exit.
Rejoice - rather, reap retrophilia.

Sequester me in your embrace tonight,
Guide me through these troubled skies.
Navigate with me through the stars so bright,
Teach me how it feels to fly.

I've cried out to God during all my times of need,
And tried opening the door.
But it seems that my qualms he will never heed,
Even as I pray, falling to the floor.

The door is not locked, see,
The door does not exist;
But what does?
The blood flowing through my wrists.

It's time to let him go, to turn the page,
And to let it all evaporate, the unrequited rage.
He does not exist, he is not all around,
He doesn't care if his children are safe and sound.

That's okay, counting on myself is better,
Than using fantasy as a crutch, an old sweater.

I believe in people, I believe in love,
I just don't believe that any comes from above.

Are you a river-trout swimming in the ocean?
Are you a fresh water creature drowning in salt?

Like the sun rises in the sky each day, your inner nature bursts through the dark waters that have claimed you; you are not a part of them, you are out-of-place.

Keep swimming; eventually you'll find where a river meets the ocean, and you'll finally be home.

I said I would love you until the end of time,
But I don't think that does it justice;
These words I'll try my best to rhyme,
For poetry is beautiful as love's first kiss.

You deserve beauty, a gentle touch,
Impassioned words spoken by a boy who loves you much.

Your heart is breaking, I know it's true.
Anyone who can't see it is likely a fool.
You don't understand yourself and you long for my embrace,
But life seems determined to make it a long race.

It's one we can win, don't you fret.
My love, I'm so very glad we met.

My heart hasn't been the same since meeting you,
And I'm constantly amazed by the things you do.

You can learn a lot about a person just by looking at their hands.

Is the skin picked off, do scabs and blood surround the nails?

Are their fingernails bitten down so much that small slivers of blood show atop each one, where nail should be?

These small indicators can point toward anxiety, and troubling lives. You should always remain respectful, because you don't know what a person is going through.

Halloween, what a very strange time,
Kids dressing up like monsters I see in my mind.

Real monsters, though, don't have horns or fangs,
They just have the ability to cause painful pangs.

They know how to break your heart, and then throw it away,
And they never give you the time of day.

Let the children dress up as fictional things,
Real life monsters don't have scales, claws, or wings.

Guard their innocence; let them dress up,
And pray they'll never meet a real monster close-up.

I can't imagine what it'd feel like to be ageless,
And to watch those around me grow old and die;
Having to suffer as the list of people to miss,
Grows longer as their spirits fly.

I can't understand why immortality sounds sweet to some,
As if it would be a gift of the most ultimate kind.
Just give me a song to hum,
As in the hospital I lay waiting to die.

This world possesses too much heartbreak for me to ponder,
Whether immortality sounds incredible.
I know deep inside of me that I needn't wonder,
Whether death will reap my soul.

My memory will exist for decades,
In the hearts of those I touched,
And even when away it fades,
Ar least I had loved ones I clutched.

Have you ever felt so stressed, that the tears fell down your face,
And you didn't even realize they existed?

Have you ever needed love so much, that you cut your skin,
Just to spread numbness through your entire body?

Has it ever happened to you, terrible anxiety seizing your body,
And all you can think about is how sweet poison would taste?

Have you ever swallowed pills,
Just to spit them up as your loved one cries for you to stay with them?

They call it self-harm, and self-destruction, what we do to our bodies,
Yet it's brought on by the environments we're forced into.

The "self-harm" has never been my fault; not really.
It's brought on by this world.
I've only attempted to ease the pain caused by others.

Promises are meant to be broken,
That's what they always say.
But my face is always soaken,
With the tears I've shed today.

If promises don't last,
Then why am I living?
It means that my entire past,
Wasn't worth the giving.

Living day to day is stressful,
When happiness evades you.
Nothing seems to fill this hole,
That leaves my feelings askew.

Broken promises are meant to be,
Or perhaps never to have been said.
Now after all the pain, I see,
What should've stayed in my head.

I am always torn up, when I look upon you,
Feeling my blazing heart, my mind, what you put it through.
Love is fear, I think, in a different form,
One that can shape and shift easily, a terrible storm.
Love is the greatest or the worst, depends how you see it,
I'm simply glad I've reached that point, I'm ready to meet it.

I'll never forget,
I'll never forgive.
~
But I'll learn to live with lost love,
With the pain that's concealed, abandonment from above.
When the God you crave and desire, disappears on you,
When cutting yourself is the only thing you can do.
I miss being a careless child, innocent from the world.
Where are you now, when my life's become unfurled?

Please help me find you, take you back,
You're my greatest love, and I want you back.
I want you back.
Back.
Come back.

Why girl must you stare back at me, with such sad, sad eyes?
You're a mirror of the pain I've been going through, an image of my pain in disguise.
As the lyrics flow off of the page, and the melodies fade softly away from your lips,
I know that you are like me, given nothing but worthless chips.
Chips to cast and play, in the game called life,
While others play the game, with cards to avoid tremendous pain and strife.

Why do you sing this soul-tearing song with me?
Each lyric is a ballad to the pain I've come to need.
We're all alone right now, in the emptiness of our despair,
Perhaps this pain we're singing about was always meant for us to bear.

Out of any song that is beautiful, heartfelt, and melodic,
We chose the song that we can sing, sounding somewhat neurotic.
Perhaps this pain is a twisting trail, like the notes on our page,
or the words, leaving our lips as we stand together on stage.

When our song is over, maybe the pain will subside,
fading away into the lyrics, we can try to lock away and hide.
Our past is tortured and haunted by the remnants of what could have been,
But that's all been put away now, leaving us closer than ever, true friends.
I'll never do you wrong; I swear it on the notes that leave my lips, the tugs I feel pulling on my heart.
You've hurt me and I've hurt you; that was our tormented start.

Maybe we don't have to hide in these lyrics anymore, maybe we can hide in each other, opening up another door.

A door for happiness; a door for new found pain.
We'll never heal these wounds that have damaged us, leaving us broken and stained.
The best we can do is cover up the pain,
Masking it with something, that hurts somewhat the same.

He was a boy of weakened steel,
Pain and anguish he often would feel.

But he loved a boy, who centered him here,
Who coaxed him through love and soothed his fears.

And that same boy often wondered,
If he deserved—by such love—to be thundered.

But then he realized he felt the same,
Felt that he was insignificant, deserved all blame.

But that defines love, in one specific way,
Through tragedies and heartbreak, it never sways.

And though it can be battered, and bruised by life,
True love survives all of that strife.

The boy’s heart was incredibly sore,
But he can now label that time of his life “before”.

“Before” he found him and fell in love,
“Before” he knew that safety was a dove.
“Before” he knew that dove was a boy,
One with, whom, his life could unfurl.