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Are we all paralyzed? Or do we just have nothing to say? No matter which one you take, It's still the same way We stand in a room, Quiet as a mouse No matter where you listen, silence fills the house Now you look around Searching for an escape Then night hits, Like a stranger in a dark cape This is not a surreal world This is what we call Society

Walk the streets See the signs Look at the stars        Dark Nights Feel the chill Hurt your feet Watch the soul- less people stroll by        Dark Nights

It's not what matters That matters It's what doesn't Matter That's what Matters.

The Black Rose There once was A girl who lived In a delicate glass box Her world was unharmed and safe. One day a single black rose fell on top of her box. She watched as her world crashed down before her, and her box. She wandered the streets of the cold, dark, real world, scared & unknowing of what to do. One day, just before thinking of ending her life in the real world, A single black rose fell atop her hands. She watched amazed And thankful as she watched her world form around her. And her box.

Forgive me. I knew what it meant to you; your purity. I stripped you of it so that my mind could be at ease. I left you hollow, abandoned, destroyed. I could commit no greater a sin against one I loved, you were the one....I..... cherished,adored,fawned,fought for. I know how broken you are, how frail you've become. This is my response to your pain, your hatred, your struggle against all those thoughts that shred away at your sanity. I...can't say I love you, I know the words won't reach; so I'll leave you with I'm sorry, and this is my shattered lament.

You're lying so still next to me, Fully clothed, Only our naked hands touching, I wish your mind was laid so bare, Chapped lips, Scrape mine roughly, Because you won't kiss me back.`

There was once a little girl with flaming red hair and chocolate brown eyes.        Each night she laid in fright and feared if she saw the hall's light.                           Then ran in fear if ever he came near.                                 He who was to protect her.        &

you were a boy i once knew. no, i didn't love you, nor did i hate you. i just 'admired' you. just like every other fucking person in the world. . you were so perfect, it hurt everyone's eyes to look at you, melted every brain who thought about you, looked at you, listened to you; you were just too perfect. and while you trot around like a king on a king's horse, we crawled and slaughtered the terrors. we made way for the king: "oh, the king is here. the king is here." we kissed your feet.          but you were always the proud one- you were so proud.    and you believed that God         - He, mighty creator, He, mighty

Against the wishes of my peers I tread The peacefulness I've found is quite a bore The now far reaching compromise instead Becomes nothing but an arduous chore In silence I contemplate my demise While outwardly I answer with a smile Hoping no one will see through my disguise And attempt to fault me for my guile With heavy heart now burdened by my fate I wonder what will come of this charade I guess there's naught to do but sit and wait And watch in disbelief this still parade I wish for anarchy while there is none And so I start my resistance of one

What if I am what you think I am? What if I am really a girl that likes girls? What will you do now? Will kick me out of your house? Fine. Do so. I will go my way whatever you'll do! If you don't accept me, it's your problem! What should be wrong about being the way I am? Tell me! See, there's nothing wrong about it. Either you accept me as your daughter or I'll have to leave!

"Bare knuckle winter barely left us awake or breathing and your face bruises too sadly," she said, her voice catching you around the throat, as she wiped the snow off the porch where your coat lay in an angry pile of water and your little brother tied his mittens to the swing. "Nothing can move in this cold. It sears the birds' wings to the sky and you can hear them crying out near the barn, close to the potatoes going black and blind in the cellar." You count the crows pecking out the fence, wondering what they look like under the ice of the bird bath and if death feels like the smoke curling around her mo