This consistent need to change
This burning desire to be better
Am I slowly changing for good
Or is it good that I am changing ?
I think a lot, speak a little
I dream a lot, act a little
This constant void that I feel in my Life
Why, why, why, I think to myself yet again
Caught in this trap of monotonous mind battles

Crush make us smile
Crush make us laugh about funny thing he did
Crush make us go crazy
Crush make our guts go butterflies
Crush make us thinking about our own
Crush make us loving them more
Crush make us try to catch their attention
Crush make us feel hurt
Crush make us hate them
Crush make us desperate to get them
Crush make our mind exploded

There are bones in the wood;
cracking, groaning, shattering.
The skeleton of what could
Have
            Been

There are bones in the wood;
whistling, wailing, whispering.
The skeleton is not pure—not good
It
            Still
                        Has
           ­                         Flesh

for her
I will move on
for her
I will grow
for her,
the happy little girl I once was with eyes full of wonder and a heart full of love.
for the little girl I grew from,
the one I still am inside,
the little girl who only wanted joy.
for her I will be better.

today I looked at my mom and saw the little girl beneath, the little girl just like me, trying to make it through life, pretending to be grown.

This pen is no tool,
Nor is it a weapon,
It's a wellspring of magic,
Purist of it's kind,
All these stories in my head,
Pouring out like tears,
Dripping into to black blood I give.

To love and to be loved,
Oh how lucky one is to have both.

A warmth that neither time nor tide
Can wear away or coax to loathe.