You shattered me
and I need to be fixed.

I taped my heart together,
using all the splinters I could find.

But my hands are shaky
and my work is cheap.

For the first two months of college I didn’t speak
Convinced everyone here are hillbilly freaks
Then you asked to borrow my paint brush
Long brown hair in a bun and brows so lush
I gave it to you in a heartbeat
Because you were the first person I thought was neat

Im still not sure how I got so lucky to befriend you
I’ve never felt a connection this real and true
When we sit in the forest smoking **** and cigarettes
And you’re still wearing the same paint covered sweats
Singing to Rihannon by Fleetwood Mac
I felt myself gaining my soul back

I can’t decipher what’s hiding behind your dark brown eyes
But your passion for art is as tall as the skies
You inspired me to change my point of view
Maybe this place isnt so bad, who knew
Your kindness cracked my heart’s thick shell
And painted the lines with shades of pastel

No boy ever told me they cried when they moved away
Your open and truthful soul makes everything ok
The freckles sprayed on your cheeks are like artwork
That’s a companion piece to your crooked smirk
I cried thinking we would drift apart once school’s done
But you told me we’ll always be friends in the long run

So
Thank you
Thank you for being my friend
Thank you for being who you are

I'm tired.
I'm tired of exams.
I'm tired of studying day and night for a piece of paper which literally determines my next job application.
That doesn't make any sense.
I could be **** good at something not a paper is worth for, but will i be given a chance to prove so?
I'm tired of exams
Aren't you?

my mother used to drink
she never
talked
so much.

and during the passing of
poison to the
relevant wires
she spoke of how
great it was
to be alive
and that
most did not know this
fact.

she used to dance so wild
and free and unknowing in
her knowing of the freedom
of this
life like
the wilderness.

the heart feels a gypsy
the mind a vagabond
the eyes get misty
by the lilies in the pond

bloom the petals pinkish
smudged with streaks of white
swaying slow by wind's kiss
glory displayed bright

upon the slender neckline
crowns of innocent smiles
fill all dark with sunshine
wipe out weary miles

o traveler feel the invite
merrily pause to respond
be a while in sunlight
among the lilies of the pond