"I'm going to take you to the stars and show you the world."

I have frequent nightmares but when a dream breaks between, some are so beautiful I want to cry. I saw a face I've missed, the way I remember us, not the way we've become. It was back when he let me in and wanted to show me everything. It wasn't that long ago and was such a short time that I wish I was back there so I wouldn't have to cry. Suppose I deserve it, for the selfish side I released when rejected. A tantrum of depression when he didn't want me anymore. How could he forgive me for that? Perhaps it's a lesson I must be taught as I scramble helplessly to hold on to my least known but most cherished friend. How pathetic is it really? Don't we all try to hold on to the dreams we desire to be in? Don't we all try to fall back to sleep? Is it too selfish to hold on to just a tiny piece of a chance I never really had? Too selfish to cling to someone who gave me one shining moment in the sun? What I want from this world, he will never give me. But I never throw a whole life away, a whole friend just because one vain moment came between us and left a scar. I fell in love. Or perhaps I was wrong, perhaps I fell in love with an idea, someone who didn't really exist. I fell in love with the idea of us, together. Two strangers finding each other, finding the world. It was romantic to me, but was not the dream he wanted to be.

What Happens?

What happens to a soul when it's been stabbed too many times? Does it rot? Does it fade? Or does it bleed itself dry? What happens to the unrequited lover left behind? What happens when time destroys the mind? What happens when you get too close and pull away? What happens when walls are erected between once truthful friends? But were they true? Only time will tell what is to become of the broken up pieces of the shining sun.

A Thought of A Dream and Pools In Those Eyes

Sometimes I have these dreams that I'm someone else. I have someone else's body, someone else's face, someone else's mind, someone else's experiences and in that place, I'm magnificent. There, I am a work of art, never to be tampered with by the wind and the rain. Never to be torn and tortured, just a strong, independent soul that has nothing missing, nothing taken from it, and nothing ever shall. There's a world where that's all true, floating in the eyes of a second of adoration and when that was found, I wanted to hide there forever. When I see the eyes that are now closed, of the one laying next to me in this room that's been cold for years, I see this thing that dreams of more but has been forced to settle for less. It's not fate, but belonging in those pools that carry so many captured youths as myself, drawn to a mere flame that would serve as the beauty of their imminate death. Exhausted and tired from fighting the heat, at some point, I too must succumb. On that day I shall but pray that the beauty I saw was true, that the place I resided for but a moment, was real. Even you, couldn't take that truth from me. But it is in this cave that I am me, nothing more and nothing less. A twisted swan song for a once hopeful soul dies soft and sweet until blood runs cold.

My Home

This home changed twice around me.
Once it was filled to the brim with books,
With love, with all the luster of youth.
Then the heat escaped,
The ceiling needed patching,
The floor left splinters.
Day turned to night,
But there was no light.
When morning broke I climbed,
To patch those holes,
But I opened my eyes to find,
A room of beauty,
Music and roses,
Orchids and white sand.
The sun shined through,
Diamonds burned my eyes,
This house, this room,
It wasn't mine.
When I blinked it was gone,
I was here again,
My real battered home,
With just one sad song,
Where I suppose I belong.

Demon's Gaze

I see their eyes,
everytime they look through me,
everytime they beg me.
But they can never love me,
it's the curse of this horrid thing I've been given,
to forever dine in lust.
Never to know love,
letting the heart rust.

Children Among Giants

How cruel a blow,
To give your heart only to take it away,
from the beggars, the weepers,
The ones that loved you so.
They'll sit there, just staring,
not knowing whether to stay or go.
Just children among giants,
hoping one will look and admire,
The sure and true beauty,
of the dead flowers and whithering souls.

Flightless Bird

Shouldn't have gotten brave,
Shouldn't have flown away.
Now I've gained this broken wing,
And crawled back here until next spring.