My Lungs Burn

I have a disease
Sometimes I'm afraid
People will find out
And send me away
Or cast me out like a
Freak

I didn't realize at first
When my lungs burned
And my eyes rimmed with
Red and wetness
That I was sick

Those first times in the
Bathroom
When I turned all the lights off
So I could be by myself
Alone with my own torture devices
I would lay on the floor
And my lungs would burn
And I would weep

It's always when you're alone
You have to be alone
To feel freakish
And in the dark bathroom
I could see everything I was scared of
So clearly in that one flood
Of emotion
When I was sick

Last summer, I was away
From home for 3 weeks.
It was a long time
And I got scared
Because I didn't know how
To be myself without everyone
That made me someone
And I got sick

Every lunch hour
In the stall
During dessert,
While everyone was eating
My lungs burned,
Breathing at a rapid rate
Freak

Then after the scared,
I got brave.
I decided I was sick
And that I needed help
But it backfired on me
And I never want to see her again
Because she looked at me different
Once she knew
My lungs burned

And just the other day
When I waited
'Till the lights were off
And I was alone
I cried and screamed
And kicked and breathed
In and out and in and out
So fast I could hear my lungs
Asking me to stop
Stop, stop, stop
But I can't stop

And now I'm reading
Books and talking to all
Sorts of people and that's
Fine
But I'm like a soda can.
They're teaching me how
I can stop the shaking
But what I really want
Is to be poured out
I just want it gone
I want the sick
Out of me
Freak

Poem...Of Some Sort

A bird with green feathers
Was waiting
Waiting for something to happen
As her small feet shuffled
And her wings trembled 
On the soft-skinned palm
Of a human hand

The hand kept still,
Completely statue,
Afraid it would lose what it was holding
But a pulse was still pumping
Inside each little finger
Quickening ever so slightly
When it felt the tree shiver

The tall oak held the child
In it's wind-shaken arms
And though it was wise and strong
It answered to another master:
The creek by it's roots

The creek bubbled in laughter
At the tickling of the green moss
At it's bottom
Feeling powerful and life-giving
As it flowed into the mind
Of the sleeping boy

A dreaming boy
Lay fast asleep,
The rivers of his mind
Flowing with imagination
So peaceful, moving in only
Small spurts:
A twitch of the thumb,
A hint of a smile.

In a flurry of green feathers,
A bird spread it's wings
And fluttered off

And a boy woke

Apple Store!!

I'm at the apple store typing this post on an iPad. Wow. Funtimes.

It's All Yours

Oh my GOD. I hate myself right now. Today was an.......interesting day. I gorged myself in television, pancakes and cranberry sauce, which was good, but the rest: not so much. I have an excruciating headache from all the rethinking I've done. Previously, I've said that for you to let something go, then someone else has to let it go also. But after today, I've realized that's not true.

The only thing you can change is yourself. If you think about it, you can't control anything or anyone rather than you and your own body, and sometimes not even that. So why focus on what you think someone needs to do? You can't change them, and there's nothing wrong with them anyhow. We are who are, in the immortal words of Ke$ha. It's sort of empowering to know that you are completely responsible for everything that happens to you, but it's also terrifying. This means that you can never blame another person EVER and be right about it. So, when I complain, (and I do often) I'm lying to myself. That doesn't mean I can't, or shouldn't complain, it just means I can never prove I'm right when I do.

"People are like magnets. They attract everything that comes to them." This quote is what sometimes throws me off. Does it mean that we deserve everything we get? That can't be true. I don't think I deserved to have my uncle pass away. I don't think my family deserved that. I don't think people with talent deserve to be turned away so that they can't tell the world who they are. I don't think that you deserve to be so sad you would take your own life. How could you tell a father of a murder victim that people get what they give? So I think taking responsibility with what happens to you means that you are the one who chooses how you feel about anything and everything. Everything you get, you decide what to make of it. Whatever you get served, it's yours to dive into.

It's all yours!

Upon My Pages

Upon My Pages

Upon my pages, storms are born
Witches slayed
And scorners scorned.

Upon my pages, I always show
That I will die
For what I know.

Upon my pages, I pretend
To shield myself,
To help me mend

So I free myself from
Me
Upon my pages.