Out of my Mind

I have too many questions.

Would you mind if I tugged just a little harder?

Held just a little tighter?

Because I don't want you to slip through my fingers dressed in the rings that bind them.

Once you leave I know there will never be an honest word.

I could never feel this comfortable in anyone else's arms.

He interferes.

You've told me that you love that I care but that it's not worth my time.

I know you're right but sometimes I wonder,

Am I addicted to the pain?

I hand my problems to Lady Justice and she weighs out my conclusion.

Happiness feels much better than being stuck to him like the fly in the window sill.

I've spent my nights and days searching the world for what's right here.

I choose you.

Would you mind if I claimed you as mine?

Shared my true feelings and wanted a happily ever after with you?

Taught myself to being kind and gentle so I didn't hurt you, like all the others.

Maybe it's too far fetched..

I think I've finally lost all of my heart.

Naked Existence

You are the butcher and his knife.

You are the old woman's porch and the windchimes that sing sad songs of nostalgia.

However you are not the rain on the coblestones and you are certainly not the dirt between the child's fingers.

It is possible that you are the soles of my shoes.

Or even the clouds that cover the sun on a rainy day.

But I, I am the leaves in the storm drain.

The dollar bill you found in your favorite pair of worn out jeans.

I am the bakery that's still open on sunday when all the others are closed down to rest.

But don't worry, I'm not the smudges on your face or the tears that cleans them off.

I'm not the crooked cane or the ugly creature that lives in your attic.

I'm not the mold growing on the corners of your toast you ate this morning either.

I'm not the curled toes of a ballerina or the sweat that is dewing on the thief's upper lip.

I'm the necklace that is hanging from your pale neck and the lights that glitter inside your precious eyes.

You are the fire burning your crembule and the brick walls that protect the trembling children.

But don't worry, you are still the wind chimes and the old woman's porch.

The butcher and his knife.

I could never allow myself to be the butcher and his knife because that's what you are, my dear.

Emphasize My Interpretations

Is it sad that I've learned to hide my happiness from others so I can guarantee it's safety?

The only reason I do this is so that you can't find it.

Destroy it.

Come, don't lie claiming that you would never do something like that. It's just me! I already know the truth.

The phone that echos with dial up tones yanks at my weaknesses.

Press all the numbers one more time just to know that you no longer exist.

It hurts to be here.

Illusions of bliss flees my mind as the simpleness of life leaks down my red cheeks.

All innocence now covered up with the knowledge you have buried in between my ribs.

The seed you planted has grown too large for it to beat properly. Skipping down the lane it tells me of it's pain the sun has given it. Photosynthesis.

The words you spoke were laced with a poison that dismembers my thoughts and watches them bleed until they are empty and shriveled from the age that only helps them disappear.

The noose around my neck whispers sweet memories that remind me of you.

All the pain your burnt mane and ice looking glass inflicted on my fragile soul.

Why do I care?

Because everyone else tells me they won't.

I'm the only one out there to protect him from the evils of this world.

If I'm the only one taking the blows his words bruise me with, I am that much happier.

I stumble in a world of cannibals that want to crack your head open like a watermelon, but I won't let that happen to you.

I can take the bullets. Not you.

Keep the Tempo

Wrap your arms around your children.

Cower in fear of the monstrosity.

she doesn't wear designer brands. I can't be her friend.

Heaven knows why I am not so alone in my loneliness.

My ugly hands are being stripped of their colors, slowly fading to black and white.

that's what's in, right?

One step, Two step, stumble.

I never learned how to stand on my toes for hours on end with out falling to the ground.

I grew up playing in mud and catching grasshoppers by their legs.

I stand no chance in a world that wants to eat me alive.

Close my eyes and float back to a time where climbing trees was capable of your age range.

Where hair fell into pony tails and smiles were easily given away.

Laughs were genuine and friends were made quickly with full trust and reassurance.

Back to times of being wolves and Indians in the same day.

The days of sleep overs and trampolines.

Memories of happiness and pure satisfaction at the sight of a wrapped present under a tree.

Back to the days of belief.

Open my eyes and all of yours bare down too harshly for my heart to continue beating.

Stare at my stumbling feet and continue moving up the stairs to the safety of my bedroom.

Most of my time is spent locked away in my tower because I fear the evil kings and queens outside my window.

Putting together puzzles and reading the stories of times that weren't so long ago, but were happy enough to look back on even though I'm not old.

Wind blowing through your hair as you hang out your window. One step and the adrenaline rushes out of your ears and to the ground you soon fall above.

Yes you move down, but you know soon you will be soaring up.