Wanted

Wanted: A time machine
To go back and warn.

Wanted: An explanation,
Of why things happen.

Wanted: Words that will make,
Everything better.

Wanted: Tears,
Mine stopped a while ago.

Wanted: Something real,
To believe in.

Falling

Spinning out of control
Diving head first
Headed straight for Earth
Getting faster.
Lightly landing on the grass
Surrounded by those who
Went before
Piling up one on top
Of another
Until there is a pile
Just big enough to
Jump in.

Kissing Frogs

It all starts the same
Eyes meeting across the room
Flirting and giggling
Then he asks
And I don't really want to say yes
But I do and he smiles
I force a smile
And say I have to go
The night comes
I finish getting ready
He's late, 30 minutes
I let it slide and get in his car
At the restaurant he gets the challange
(You know, if you eat it all in time it's free)
And that's it
He doesn't let me get anything else
We eat... and "Yay" it's free
He drops me off
But leans in for a kiss
I guess I have to kiss a few frogs
To find a prince.

Alone

Little teardrops fall from the dark overstuffed irate clouds that hang over head. Alone in a large empty unappealing room, lay an unconscious teenage boy. His face covered in pure white gauze and tubes, hiding unsightly cuts and bruises that now disfigure his almost perfect face.

His high cheek bones and strong jaw no longer dominant, the only feature left untouched by the disparaging gauze was his almost too large nose, that looked as if it had been broken one too many times.

He is alone, eyes peacefully closed, not noticing the chaotic world around him. Oblivious to the fact that there is no one there to talk to him even though they know he cannot hear them, no one to cry by his bed praying for him to open his deep green eyes. There are no friends, no family, no one to stand up for what he wants, or what's best for him.

A woman walks in, her stride strong and confidant. A look of deep and unchanging disgust and disappointment find their way across her petite features, bringing out her eyes that are untouched by the tragedy.

She thinks she knows him, his wants, his needs, his secrets, but she doesn't, not really. She doesn't know about the time in his woods behind the house, the time across the street at the neighbor's house, or the secret he keeps so dearly.

No she doesn't know him at all.

I'll Think Of A Reason Later

She’s “pretty”
The kind of pretty you see in magazines
only in magazines

The kind of
“Pretty” achieved through eating disorders
or plastic surgery.


So yeah I don’t like her
In fact I think I hate her


I took one of her pictures
and blacked out some of her
teeth and added horns


I don’t care what her personality is
Whether she’s kind or not


Yes I realise this is childish
but I don’t care


I really hate her
I’ll think of a reason later

Rain

Tell me something
What makes you think
That you can treat me
Like this?
What is it about me
That makes you so this?
Really I want to know
Cause I don’t think I can
Take it any more...
It’s falling down
But will the sun
Come out again?
I can’t take this
Rain.

Just By Being You

We run, far from the city line
It’ll just be the two of us
Running for the answer
The truth...
We’ll tell each other
Everything,
Taking turns telling
Secrets.
You’ll be my angel
And I’ll be yours...
No matter what
Because you take me to
Heaven just by being
You.

Are You Going To Kiss Me Or Not?

The two of us... well its
almost always just the
two of us, up there on my
roof, under the stars
where we shared our first
kiss, and you tentatively leaned
toward me, and I called you on
being a coward...
When it was just the two
of us, we didn’t care what
the others thought because
it was always just us...
We went to collage... together
of course... and graduated
and that night, under the stars,
you got down on one knee.
Months later we’re at the alter
and we both say I do, and the
preacher says “You may now
kiss the bride.” You hesitate and
the only thing I can think to say is
“Are you going to kiss me or not?”