Every damned minute

I'm worried

Worried that I'm not doing what I'm supposed to be doing

I'm not writing that fucking stupid 'if you don't know yourself, you're not worthy' essay I need to write

And it's bad

yeah, that's right, bad

('cause who the hell knows 'themself' anyway)

'cause my life depends on that shit

I should be making that hypocritical presentation

The one that wants me to creatively design

How I changed the world in a future

That obviously hasn't fucking happened

Make it funny, make it beautiful, make me worth it

Yet this same thing,

the reason I have to make this stupid PowerPoint because I'm oh so fucking stable and have my whole life planned out

The same thing is supposed to lead me to find my passion

How the hell does that work uhn?

If I knew exactly how that future is going to work,

Exactly what passion I "explored" to change this fucked up world

why the hell do I need you then?

You just want me to dream uhn?

Well, I'm done dreaming!

This is my life, the real deal

Not a damn pilot episode of a fairytale!

Whatever wants to happen, needs to happen now

Not in the future

& definitely not just in that bright happy place

that's my imagination.

BUT

My future depends on that shit

And even worse

My hope of ever getting away from my so called 'family'

depends on that

So I have to do it

But now

Just right now

I don't want to have to think about that

Can I just not have to worry about that?

Can I just cry for something else

feel terrible for some other reason

something that matters

something that decides whether I live or die

Some reason that's not about changing the world

holding it together

But about keeping me from falling apart

??

Your time is running out

Like hell I don't know that

And like hell I don't want to just run out of time already

The time of all times

The real time that can actually fucking run out.

I wasn't thinking it a minute ago

But now I am

& I can't stop

I keep spiralling

& spiralling

& I can't stop.

A word is such a vague way of defining oneself, is it not? What's in a word that I may use one to describe me, I wonder? Perhaps I should use a flower or the description therein to define me. I have to give ample credit to the Bard of Avon, Shakespeare, for the possibility of such as he said it best when he wrote, "That which we call a rose by any other name would smell as sweet "

Yes, after further contemplation, perhaps a blue violet flower is what would best describe me if I were to use a flower for such. I have always gravitated to a rich, vivid blue color, surrounding myself with as much of the color as possible, so perhaps I am defined by the color - or the word - blue. Blue is a calming color but full of a vibrancy that’s seen all about us in the skies, the butterflies, the oceans, the flowers, and the birds. I like to think that I am able to flit and fly about in the vast world, emboldened by all of nature that hums and beats around me. After all, we are one with the blue universe, much more than we often realize.

So, this very day, I will pick the deepest and most royal blue color to define myself, knowing I have chosen well and will be most content. Thus, going forward, I am forevermore defined by the word cyanic, the bluest of blues.

Letting go of my grief is an impossible task

The heavy weight wraps wires around my heart

dragging my soul out of my chest every time I think of you.

Your laugh

How you illuminated every room you stepped into

Memories of driving down desolate streets in the dead of night

A temporary technique used to vanish reality

Only when dawn replaced midnight

Would we return

Now,

the grief and the guilt take turns toying with me

until I am nothing but a blank page stained by a speck of dark ink

Until the ink is absorbed into every atom of my being

I am consumed entirely

Forever wondering why it wasn't me

but you who had to leave.

Those beautiful seconds and spectacular minutes... When I searched the corners of my eyes to find you, when my lips spelt your name in ways words can't tell.

When I touched you and felt what it was like to be felt by you too,

when my face produced a thousand smiles in a hundred seconds like I was enchanted.

When your hair that is coveted by the angels brushed my skin lightly.

Those little moments when I mattered to you too.

I know I shouldn't hold on to what is not, but how can I when that's all I've known to live for?

I know I shouldn't hold on to what is not, but how can I, when that's all I've known to live for?

Childhood is like a mirage to me right now when I am turning 17 going to highschool things changed suddenly before a year the life was tension free with lots of fun with friends but now I am seeing it all going no matter what I do I can be a kid anymore I am loosing my innocence I am understanding a brief distance of what's right or wrong and worry of my choices was eating me inside everyone suddenly become busy and I am fully exposed to the world day by day I am going away from my childhood .The things I did as a kid the time I wasted are becoming precious memories of me but I wanted more of these days but I can't get it I can't be child anymore I know I can't be that kid who was always happy and careless that's why I have to let go of my childhood but I don't want to it's just like it is there but like illusion.

I'm holding on to a love of yesterday.

A love so strong, I thought it would never fade away.

A memory of a partnership that was joined between two.

A sudden wind with a fragrance reminded me of the who.

This feeling that sinks into my soul, is a rapid reminder in my mind.

This memory of yesterday haunts me, wraps me in bundles like twine.

I want to be awakened early one day and notice that the love has faded away.

his laughter, sharp and bright

filling the air with the love inside it,

reaching out to keep me in its confines

it was love, i am sure.

almost

i am almost sure.

was it love?

her body on top of mine,

filling the air with a sharp tension

i had never before felt

such a rush

like a gasp of life when your head comes out of the water

she was a stranger

he was my friend

it was not love with her

but it was certainly not wrong

loving him was

fast cars and loud music and quick motions

battling to prove ourselves in the circus of life

loving him was not wrong

but it was not right for me either

he loved me more

than i ever could have returned

because my body and mind betrayed me

and i ran him through the rings

in the circus of life

just so i could discover that i was wrong

There was him.

He wasn't what everyone thought he was.

He was everything that everyone thought he wasn't.

There was they.

There was a "they" to him, but nothing but a him to her.

She thought she loved him.

He knew he loved her.

There was fear.

A fear that developed slowly, but not expressed.

It kept her coming back.

There was the fear of leaving and the fear of staying.

There was it.

It was hard to describe, a barely noticeable manipulation.

It was so microscopic, it made her think it didn't exist.

He made her think it didn't exist.

There were punches.

A car hit so deeply it felt like it was her.

The last time the fear of staying outweighed the fear of leaving.

There was time.

A final decision to use time and space to bring her back.

Time to start again, so she did.

There was her.

She wasn't what everyone thought she was then

She was what she thought everyone wanted her to be.

But now, she's free.