Pain.
It hurts so much.
My tears are hot with turmoil.

Strength.
I have none left.
My breaking point is now here.

Fight.
My guard is weakening.
I don't think I can stand.

Crack.
My blood is poured.
Fractured and splintered, I have fallen.

Pain.
It hurts so much.
**Millions of pieces lay right here.

My soul that was once bright
Is now gray and lifeless
The tears I have shed
Has drained me
To where even a thought becomes lost
An emotion is ****** away
I hate this
No emotion nor thought
It pains me to feel this way
As it does you
The urge to see you
Is strong and raging inside
But I feel held back
For I do not want to
Will you let me in
And set me free?

How pleasant is this
To have a day so fulfilled
This night welcomes me

You saw me once
Interested in my appearance.
I was alone and scared
For no one had ever
Approached me with such inquiry.
As you reached out, you had asked,
"Who are you?"
I began to tell you my story,
The tales that no one ever knew.
I was a drama magnet, filled with pain
I weeped and I cried. I fought and I pained.
I gave you all that I was, hoping for you to complete me.
Instead, you had tuned out, never heard me scream.
As you turned away in disgust
I caught sight of you, awing at a better story than I.
I weeped again, and added more to my pages.
I had hoped you were the one,
To show me what it meant to be treasured,
To be called yours.
But yet again, I wait
For that one person
To judge not and pick me above all others
Despite all my pain and hurt,
And change my ending
For I was a book titled "Broken".

You will never know
How the wind whispers
If you don't listen

Or understand why Mother Nature
Can be so destructive and cruel
But calm and yet beautiful all the same

You can't understand
Why the heavens move
With such precision and grace

The things you don't know
The things that are left unexplained
Are just that

Because you never know.

Listen to the soft words
Of the a-ga-ta-na-hi a-s-ga-ya
Hear his voice, let it carry.
Passion much higher than that of the sky.
U-da-lv-quo-di you may be;
But he is listening, waiting,
Tilt your head to the wind,
The tsi-s-qua sing aloud,
Carrying the hi-lv-hi-yu-i message:
"The current runs the river,
Not the river runs the current."
Bear this to your days and nights.
Ponder the truth;
For the a-ga-ta-na-hi a-s-ga-ya
His words always make right.