Lost

Lost

I now know what it feels like to be lost. It was traumatic, to say the least, and I am at least old enough to know to stay calm and to find someone that can help me. I can't even begin to imagine how frightening it is to a child who sees the world as a much bigger place, and them being a much smaller being, being unable to find their way home, to the comfort of the people that they love.

I freaked out, though, I think anyone would in that situation, but I managed to calm down. I wondered around an unfamiliar area until I really did not know where I was anymore. I only saw 1 familiar building, not that I knew where my house was from there. Man, it was like being a kid again.

Finally! I had found it, a fire station. They drive around and fight fires, so they must have known where I live. I finally worked up my courage and walked up to the front door, which didn't have a path to so I had to walk through the lawn. A little arrow pointed to the door bell, I pressed it, and nothing. I glanced at the window, a note hung from it by tape. I looked at the note, they had moved buildings. "Great, just great," I thought, "just my luck."

I continued to wonder, and as I did, I approached a elementary school. I walked passed, I glanced at the front door, there it was, in big letters, City Hall and Police Station. I almost cried from relief, actually, I already was crying. I walked into the police half and found the warm face of a nice old lady. We talked and she got someone to get me home, and show me my way home from school.

Not only that, she has the same last name as me! But what's even more amazing, her daughter has the same name as me! How crazy is that. I should make her cookies. 

Afraid

What was I so scared of in the first place?

Why were there so many tears on my face?

There was something to believe in,

But I never saw that in the beginin'.

Somebody saved me, somebody saved me.

Somebody saved me in my time of need.

Now I know, angels still walk the ground.

Silent angels that never make a sound.

Time

Time

Time is an everlasting thing that always stays with us, always moving us along. It gives us moments we always want to relive, moments we never wish to end. But, what about the moments we want to forget? Aren't those the moments that shape us the best? I'd like to believe that all I am, and all I ever will be, is something that was shaped by the moments that I wanted to give up, the moments I wanted to give in to.

Those hard times that I've fallen are the moments I've learned to look back on, and love. Yes, I love the moments when I was close to swallowing a bottle of sleeping pills, the moment I crawled up the stairs, throwing up this nasty blue color, after I had swallowed those pills. The moments when death was so much better then reality. 

I don't know how many times I've had like that. Too much to count by now. Maybe it's the hormones, maybe it's the lack of sleep, maybe it's the bit of death I feel each day as I hear my mother and her boyfriend fight, the name calling, the foul language, and the bad attitudes that carry on to my and my little sister.

I am a person.

I get hurt by mean words.

I am not dead inside.

And I am growing closer to accepting myself.

A Person That I Fear is Me

I look into a well, and the face of my enemy smiles at me.

I'm small, weak, and fragile, I'm hardly ever really seen.

I look into the abyss, and I fear, it isn't me it can see.

I just blend in, I am too normal, too plain, to ever dream.

I am a wall to be walked around, stepped on like the ground.

I am paralyzed by fear, I feel my heart finally bleed tears.

I've been waiting for myself to spread it's wings.

But the caterpillar must stay alive 'till the end.

I've been longing for the voice in my head, but it never sings.

It's not like I can continue to pretend.

I'm not real, a broken heart that cannot heal.

A ghost in the shell, my soul was eaten by hell.

A person that I fear is me, is starting to work it's way in.

Into my life, into the story I've imagined for me.

It starts off friendly, now I'm covered in sin.

I fear that people have begun to see,

See a me, that I never wanted to be.

Cold Outisde

Homework. Long, Gruelling, and Just Not Fun.

Why do we do homework? I understand that practice part. You take home the work you've done in class and study it so that it will stick in your brain, blah, blah, blah. But what about the trees? People go on and on about how we should use less trees, how we're letting the atmosphere degrade, and how soon there won't be an atmosphere an we'll all die.

So?

What about the fact that we are continually cutting down trees for millions of students? Those precious trees! We cut down countless trees to give students stuff they don't even like. 

This is why, I totally support going digital. Making kids go online to do homework is like telling them the fun is no longer on the computer, but outside. Now maybe, kids will get off their lazy butts and play outside.

It's Cold Outside

The icles drop from my fingertips.

Warmth coming from your lips.

Wrap me up, it's too cold.

Tell me something, you've never told.

Say that you love me.

Help me up, I don't want to freeze.

Protect me from the breeze.

I shiver and shake, you wrap me tighter.

The oil would freeze in a lighter.

Say that you need me.

I feel your hands on my hips,

Rocking to the music from my lips.

Wrap me up, it's too cold.

It's my heart I want you to hold.

Don't say that you love me.

I can feel you grow distant.

I wasn't the one, too inconsistent.

You won't wrap me up anymore.

It's way colder than before.

Don't say that you need me.

I know you found your better half.

And I can hear your sweet laugh.

And I hate myself for saying,

I wasn't staying.

Say that you hate me.

I tried to ruin you.

Just so you would come to.

I'm the one you want, you need.

Oh, Baby, that's how it goes, in my dreams.

Don't say that you hate me.

Wanting

Masks, what are they? Are they our friends?

I'd like to say that my mask is only mine, but surely it is other's as well, otherwise, how would they be so blind to it? This mask must be made from their sins, otherwise, how would they just look over it?

I find myself asking many "what if" questions these days. "What if my mask loved me," "What if my mask was its own will, its own mind, its own thoughts, its own desires?" 

I thought that, and I was silent, in my mind of course, none of my thoughts are aloud. I was silent in my own mind for an hour! I was confused by my own thoughts. And I thought.

"Do I want to be loved?"

Your Mask

Just a little bit longer, hold on. Just a little bit longer, I'm not gone. I'll always be here, right beside you. I'll always love you, it's true. Even if you try run away, there's no where to hide. I'm your reflection, living inside, Your Mask... Even if you run, even if you hide. I'll always be by your side. No matter who you meet, you'll still weary. When your alone, your eyes will be still be teary. Please don't leave me, don't try. Please don't leave me, don't cry. Your Mask... It's bound to break. It's bound to shatter. Don't give in to madness' that flatters. I am here, waiting silently. I am always here, quietly. You are lost, while I am found. Listen to the sound, Your Mask... It's falling off your face. I can't catch it, lost the grace. And when you find, the world crashing down. Don't try, don't cry, please drown. You'll never be found, that's what you want. Listen to the voices, look how they taunt, Your Mask.... They took off, and now you're broken. Your stuck paralyzed, frozen. And the whole world can see, What you didn't want to be. Exposed, naked, and bear. And here comes the first tear. Your Mask... Now that it's off, you don't need me. Now that you're free. I can see how it's going well for you. There's people that want to protect you. And they can do better than I ever could. Be happy like you should. Your Mask... Was me.

Rainbows and Butterflies. If Only.

Black, and White.

The world is black and white and completely painted in a dull, emotionless grey. Is it wrong to feel that way?

I'd like to think that there is always a clear, specific answer to any and all problems. Though, I know there isn't. The maniacal laughter in my head, it used to be mine, now it's his. And it persecutes me. 

That's what is black and white. That the laughter is there. The grey is how he got a hold of it, isn't it? Oh, I don't understand anymore.

So what if the world is black and white, or if it's grey. It still makes a rainbow bland and distasteful. At least if it's black and white, there's some variety.

I wonder what other people think.

What's going on inside their heads?

Is it the same as is what is going on inside my head?

How can I understand what my friends do not?

How can my friends understand what I cannot?

Neuroscience, that's what I'll go into, maybe my questions will be solved.

Solved

If everything could be quick and easy,

Maybe I wouldn't have this insanity.

Every question has an answer, plain as day.

Every lie has only one truth to give away.

The rainbows hanging above our heads,

Would be black and white like the dead.

Black eyes, that have eroded.

White bones, that have exploded.

Into the poison in the fragile air.

Dripping off our tongues, beware.

We are the poison that painted the rainbow,

And I'm sure we did it just for show.

We are not innocent or pure,

Not while there is war, I'm sure.

Blood on our hands, sliding down our throats.

The black coal that is our gloat.

The paint of stain, that is our sin.

The white that is our mark to never win.

We died, we are long dead.

There is no rainbow over our head.