The barren and iced branches of the tree
slowly began to drip
falling onto the lightly frosted ground
without a sound
the pale white sky slowly fades to a clear blue
giving the world a touch of color
little spatters of vivid paint dropped by the stars
who hide behind the low clouds
waiting for their right time to shine
the sun sometimes cuts a small hole in the sky
a savior for those early-rising plants
and when the moon flied above the darkness at night
it is a guiding light
and when the trees finally grow their leaves
they know that this will happen again
it is the cycle
 

One bottle full of the glittering dreams I dreamed during faithful last year
Two bottles of the blood of my now scarred arm
Ten bottles of salty tears from which I cried
Five bottles of fear of being descovered
Four bottles half full of the pain of the secrets that cut deep into my heart
Seven bottles of the cruel laughing faces of my so-called friends
Eight bottles of the emptiness of my scarred heart
Eleven bottles of angry words towards my enemies
Nine bottles of a dim dread from that one and only person
And Twelve bottles of the golden flame of hope that I hope will last me for the rest of my days.
My past may be written in stone,
and I might regret some of the things I have done,
or didn't do.
Those glass bottles I will keep in a wooden shelf
where only I can reach


 

Maybe we all don't see the same colors
Maybe we all don't have the same fears
Maybe we all don't have the same political veiws
Maybe we all don't have the same color of skin
Maybe we all don't have the same practiced culture
Maybe we all don't have the same beliefs
Maybe we all don't have the same train of thought
Maybe we all don't eat the same food
Maybe we all don't enjoy the same subjects in school
Maybe we all don't like the same TV shows
Maybe we all don't live in the same place
Maybe we all don't wish for riches and fame
But maybe thats just being human.

 

The door shuts behind as Mom and Dad leave for their "special night out", leaving me with my naughty little sister. I turn to her, putting my hands on my hips. "Okay, this time you do not get up in the middle of the night and try to take Venisa on a walk, okay?" I ordered her, pointing to our sad blue beta fish who I had to put on top of the fridge, just in case. Julia nodded, smiling widely and a drip of drool hanging from her chin. I sighed, rubbing my eyes and pulling Julia by her puggy hand into our TV room. I put on Julia's favorite show, The Backyardagins, and let myself slowly drift off.
I awoke later to find that our power had seemed to have been shut off. All the lights in the house where off, and the only thing that was illuminating the room was the weak light of my phone. Which was buzzing, as if it was alive and panicking. I picked it up, squinting at the words that apeared on the screen:

The cold wind burns my skin
and I look around at my surroundings in shock.
I am standing on a tall mountain
a piller
made from rock-hard snow and ice
the air around me is a whirlwind of gray and white
howling its shrill cry
and echoing around me
a bittersweet song of loneliness
for only me to hear
My teeth chatter like a chainsaw
knocking on a locked door in my mind


 

I’m sorry
I’m sorry for the broken heart you have tucked away
I’m sorry for your sunken soul and saddened face
I’ll stand beside you anyways
Even if you want to be locked away for forever
Even if you are convinced you are never going to get better
Because you will
My pain could never account to the heartbreak you have felt
Even if it was multiplied by a million
I can’t even imagine
But I will stand by you, your faithful friend
Who will be the crutch for your blackened heart
Because if you fill your scars with ashes
It will just tear you apart
And the tears I have cried could never account to the weight of your secrets
The weight of your pain
The weight of your emptiness
I’m sorry for your loss
But we are only 12, aren’t we?
Our whole life ahead of us
Wear your scars on your sleeve
Because sometimes they can fuel your triumphs
Look beyond your pain
I know you can do it.

It was the first one I ever heard.
I learned it the first time I was in a play,
The Velveteen Rabbit, it was called. 
The tongue twister went something like this:
"To sit in solem silence on a dull, dark, dock,
In a pestuantal prison, with a life long lock.
Awaiting the sensation of a short, sharp, shock,
with a chip and chippy chipper on a big black block."
Now you try. 

Friends fighting
insults biting
one pretty little lie
that causes a terrible land slide
only one side of the story is right
only one side to choose
when your swept up in a raging storm like this
what do you do?
what do I do?
I don't want to be involved
its not my battle to fight
but those who choose to keep raging on
they forget of what is true and what is right
So I will stand by
becuase there is nothing else to do
spitting fiery lies
my friends are now enemies


 

I was pure before
happy
laughing
beaming
gleaming
my life was good.
Now its tainted
guilt spreading
like smoke filling the sky
the clear sky
that used to be my heart
I am different now
I am broken
I am cold
I am lonley
but I still fight.
becuase in the end,
I know everything will be alright.
So I'll just keep on fighting,
with my tainted heart.