tick tock t..ick t...ock

Every second of your life is used. It may seem insignificant, but it's there. A single second can change your life, can end your life, can make your day, can ruin your day. Why do we give so much power to a second? We don't. It's just there. A special gift, given from a higher power (whoever/what ever that higher power may be), something we simply cannot wrap our minds around. So many of us will be on our death beds, wishing we could have those wasted seconds back. But we can't. We have to live in the moment, be present in this day, and let tomorrow be it's own day...not apart of today.

~She~

Another poem from over the summer that was forgotten. Some tweaking was needed, but now I'm satisfied with it.

She never has much to say
her mind has always been that way.
Listening to the problems,
starts to take it's toll,
on her heart.
She remains strong,
on the outside.
But on the inside,
she's screaming,
she's crying,
she's dying.
She's too proud to say so.
So she drowns herself in a pool,
of words,
of hurt,
of excess.
There's no going back.
The innocence was never there,
not for her.
She grew up to fast,
she stayed that way too long.
Now looking back,
there was no choice.
She blames herself,
for crashes,
for deaths,
for faults,
that clearly aren't hers.
She feels,
that there's no break for her.
When it rains,
every problem she's ever had,
washes over her,
crashes over her,
sinks her.
She's desperate for a breathe,
but she's forgotten how to breath.
She needs to be strong,
but she's forgotten how to hold her head up.

Stars and Dreams

This is a poem I wrote last summer which I had forgotten about. I tweaked some of it, hope you like.

If I had a star,
I would wish it all away,
If I had a dream,
I would use it all day.
But the fact is,
I don't.
I don't have a single simple thought,
that hasn't been used before.
I don't think a single original thought.
I've had it all planted into my brain.
Brain washed by the Christianity,
that's supposed to show love.
What love exists,
in such a shallow hole?
Brain washed by society,
that simply longs to belong.
How is it one that is brain washed to belong,
still is singled out?
Still left alone,
in the middle of a crowded room.
If I could,
I would go.
But all dreams and stars are good for,
are thoughts and regrets.
Forgotten love,
remembered pain.