The worst of winter had already subsided a few days ago. A man, just barely in his twenties, trekked through the snow-topped rocks of the forest floor. His nose caught the calming scent of trees mixed with the rusty metallic taste of the old mansionette that loomed behind him. He sniffled, and worried yet again about the little pink bundle of coats that was 9 steps ahead of him.

"Finally! Uncle Eli, you're reaaaaally slow," a vibrant voice resonated to his ears.

The man just smiled, handing his niece a scarf that matched her outfit. The little chubbs wrinkled her nose in refusal and asked instead, "Can I play?"

Too tired to argue, he nodded his head slightly. She squealed and ran off to disturb some squirrels that seemed to have recently appeared.

He closed his eyes and allowed himself to drown in his thoughts, succumbing to the feeling of numbness. From the cold. From his brother's recent death. His eyes flew open. He shivered yet again.

Looking ahead at the daffodils blooming at the tiny person's feet and roses tinting her delicate cheeks, he wonders if he'll ever value spring as much as he values it now.

Sometime later, she ran up to him and stretched her arms. Sighing softly, he scooped her up.

"Do you think Mum and Dad are happy up there?" she asks, twisting herself so she could see the big white sphere climb over the mountains.

"I guess so."

there's a mirror near the bed

that reflects her naked back.

she's looking at the balcony,

telling me about her past.

she tells the story of her scars

as I trace her healing skin,

hope my kisses would sing to her,

how she's still beautiful within.

she tells of her bitter youth,

forcing down the sour taste,

of her failures and shortcomings,

and imperfections on her face.

she tells me of her insecurities,

and how a skirt-wearing demon

would remind her she's not enough,

until she wakes up crying at dawn.

she looks at me, and it was my first,

seeing her so vulnerable and lost.

she laughs and cries and says sorry,

that she didn't know what came over her.

I told her I'll be right here with her,

a promise set in stone. I pulled her close.

and she hugs me back, tells me I'd better be,

"You're the only one I've ever told."

This is on the perspective of the soulmate.

voices blur.

background fades away.

my body's on autopilot,

my mind's gone astray.

this time every year

i'm sinking to the abyss

-i call't my mind- rapidly,

yet's a state of utter bliss.

habits are scary things

like whips made of electric wires,

as it strikes, one.. two ...

so does numbness in its glory.

i'm in a cave

a dark, dark, cave

rendering my sight useless

so much

that i can't even see myself

so i stay crouched

to reassure myself that i

am indeed

still there.

and sometimes,

out of the darkness comes a ripple

breaking my tide of thoughts

and i run

to the place

where i saw the light

only for it to close back and

once more,

leave me alone in my cave

hungry,

for a light, or if too much,

then a person

by my side.

i'm stuck in the cave,

and i'm crouching,

Trying to hide,

so that i may be able to escape

being eaten by the monster

that is called

my mind.

I started at the shore;

Frolicking around

Sandcastles and starfishes,

And evident footsteps

That made me feel bound.

I got into the water,

'til it reached my knees,

Excitement at the

thought of new beginnings,

Happy dreams.

The shore is quite far now,

I'm floating to Horizon's end

Adrenaline still coursing

my bloodstream; hazing

my common sense.

Troubled, troubled waters,

Meet my rose-filtered glasses,

Filled my panicked

Tired state, and try I might,

lest I lose pride and scream for help.

My eyes are black and dull...

So you can say they're blull?

Is that even a word?

Oh god, why am I so pathetic?

Did you know another term

For radical expressions is surds?

Mind-blowing right???

Oh, how I love Math.

Can't write about things you do?

Well, why not write about things you don't?

Like eat pizza, or have a boy(girl?)friend, or

Probably a life if you want it straight and concise.

Speaking of straight... It starts with S.

Guess what also starts with S?

Short! Which also describes me!

I'm short, straight, and sbipolary sbizarre!

Do I even make sense?

The sand on Grandpa's hourglass,

Is slowly falling down,

Bit by bit,

Piece by piece,

Til it's almost done.

And I knew,

It's time for him to rest.

Before, the color of Grandpa's hair,

Was slowly turning grey,

Bit by bit,

Piece by piece,

And he told me the song,

Of Vivaldi's Four Seasons,

Keeps him alive and moving on.

Now, the smile on Grandpa's face,

Is slowly turning upwards,

Bit by bit,

Piece by piece,

As he told me,

That my fingers blue and bruised,

Were the prettiest, when paired with the piano.

Tomorrow, the pain in my chest,

Will hit me hard like a tornado,

Bit by bit,

Piece by piece,

Inside and outside.

A week crammed into learning the song day and night,

And a last night's goodbye spent together with Grandpa.

I'm running high on adrenaline

Yet low in self-esteem

My head's pounding, expectations keep on breathing

On my neck, on my leg.

They want me to go faster,

And I run

In a place where everything's white

A white I despise, too bright,

That I couldn't recognize,

The color of darkness

Embracing,

Hugging,

Sucking me in.

I still try to run but

My legs are giving out and I

Stumble.

Again.

And for once, long overdue

I take a breath, and then two,

And I gasp for air

Like a newborn for his milk.

And I realize that this darkness

May have consumed me,

But also saved me

From me,

Destroying myself.

Because for a person who's lived for

Fulfilling expectations,

Nothing's sweeter,

Than silence mixed with darkness.

No one knows how the universe was created.

If we ever had a beginning,

Or would we ever end...

But there are two things I know, that science has proven:

Likes repel,

Opposites attract.

You and I, we were meant to be.

Well, at least I thought so.

You circled me like I was your sun,

And I mistook the must, for love.

You and I were bound to be together,

But not close to each other.

Just a little space in between, and thus I've always asked,

"Electron, won't you come a little closer?"

That damned love of mine had always stayed on his orbit (I called him a prude),

He'll sometimes move farther when he gets excited (which is kinda cute),

But he'll always come back.

Trust me, he always does.

Yet with the way he treated me as the moon treats the earth,

I turned a blind eye into everything, except you.

Why?

Why didn't you tell me that you were bad for me?

Why did you have to make me fall in love?

Why didn't you tell me that if we will collide,

We would explode in bursts of energy that I would've mistaken for passion?

Why didn't you tell me that if we touched, just a single touch,

Everything in the world would cease to exist?

And God damn you, Rutherford!

Discovering someone that I was supposed to be bound for life!

Why do I have to be with someone so neutral,

While I'm always left gazing at the one who was my destiny,

My dear electron.

Why can there be never a 'we'?