looking up,
i feel like
god.
or am i
committing
fraud?
looking up,
i am quite
small.
or is it
they who are
tall?
looking up,
they let me
ask.
or do i
just come to
bask?

Negative and negative
is positive.
To feel like crap with another
is relative.

To watch the smile disappear
is as a skewer to my heart.
When I saw the moment before,
so exalting from the start.
The clouds parted momentarily
But the light lacked need to shine.

Oh, how I loathe health class,
not that I hate health.
They tell me not to commit suicide.
Sure, THAT is going to help.
They tell me not to have sex,
and force me to state why.

Your story is shaping my views,
but i haven't decided how.
This apprehension of how to act
and of what they will say
is causing the shakes.

What you have told me,

I feel friendly
I feel girly.
I am kick-started
and powerful
and pretty.
I feel relaxed
Yet rejuvenated
and I don't care
even if I am hated.
This awesome,
ecstatic,
hyper,
triumphant,

If I faced my feelings and let them know,
If I saw my true self and the others did too,
If I were in silence and focused on thoughts,
And I truly knew the meaning,

*car beeps*
*acts startled*
*swears to self*

Music relates and then it escapes.
Music penetrates and then it frees.
Music is loud and it forces a listen.
Then music is soft and it invites a listen.
Music is false and it causes thought.

''Is this a test?''
Everything is a test.
''A test of what?''
''A test from who?''
A test of you.
A test from you.
''A what from what?''
''Am I crazy?''
Yes.

I knew it'd be the same.
At least in every general way.
But I didn't want to lose what i had.
To gain the same again.
I didn't want to feel what I did
For any others except them.

A fleeting feeling.
A falling tear.
A burst of emotion.
A head ached with fear.
A fetal position.
A disgusted look.
A try to calm down.
A try to read a book.
A feeling of weakness.

Tock. Tick.
You're out of time.
The clock has ticked
It's 8:39.

I know it was wacko.
I know it was cruel.
Just shut up and listen
To the ''tock, tick, tock.''

A wilting rose.
A fading love.
A dieing ember.
A crying girl.

The wilted rose.
The faded love.
The dead ember.
The crying girl.

The vines grow,
and the road cracks.
It's all just a part of life.
And as my bones chill
the future is out of sight.