Lungs that fill and deflate
Taking in all that's evil,
And letting it all out.
A new breath.
Colors that shift and change
Morphing blues, greens, and reds
Shades of orange
Lots of purple.
A new perspective.
A red light
Then a green.
A new beginning.
Her favorite color is purple.
She smiles when she thinks of me
And I do the same.
She is making me a better person,
And I will sell my life to her.
A new love.
No more betrayals.
No more lies.
No more drugs.
No more ruined friendships.
No more pain.
A new life.
Here it comes; the King of Cold,
Harbinger of Depression
and Destroyer of the Bold.
Frequently, when I'm alone in my thoughts,
I find myself asking why.
I ask about my feelings.
I'm not sure why. I don't have any answers.
But my dad always told me to ask why so I shall.
Why do I so often lose my motivation to do things?
Why is it so hard to stay clean?
Why did I lie to that person?
Why do I wake up at 4:45 to go jump in an 80 degree pool?
Why do I get so tired of repetition?
Why do I still love her?
Why can't I move on?
Why doesn't my mom trust me?
Why do I lose my will?
Why do I live?
Why don't I live?
Why do I think so much?
Why do I ask why?
Questions float around my head,
Questions that end up unanswered and dead.
You didn't mean to, did you?
You didn't venture into the darkness with the intent of doing such a thing,
But it happened all the same.
It changed you.
The you that emerged from the cave is not the you that entered.
You don't regret it.
You feel bad, but you don't regret it.
It was wonderful, after all.
God only knows if you'll be forgiven for it,
but God also knows that it was fantastic.
You forgot all of your problems.
Everything was gone.
You felt truly, legitimately at peace for the first time in months.
The repercussions were not as pleasant. It's changing you.
You want it again. You know you shouldn't.
You received more in 6 days than you received over the last 6 months.
You felt alive. You felt important.
You felt strong.
It was rather sadistic, wasn't it?
The very definition of a guilty pleasure.
Nothing so bad has ever felt so good.
. What do I wish for?
The screen illuminates her,
Though she outshines it in every way.
I'm watching the movie,
But I'd rather be watching her.
Her hand is intertwined with mine
My head rests on her shoulder
I feel her chest rise and fall
I hear her heart beating for both of us
It is moments like these, when she holds me, that I begin to wonder
How I could have doubted her love for me in the first place.
There once was an old man by the name of Steve.
Steve was a small, frail man, no bigger than 5'4".
At the slow age of 88, Steve sat alone in his house, located at the quiet outskirts of his hometown.
His life was doomed to routine.
Wake up. Take medication. Watch TV. Sit outside. More medication. Go to bed.
Steve had no parents, no siblings, and no children.
He didn't matter to anyone.
He had become yet another insignificant speck in the universe.
And he knew it.
Steve woke up one cool, crisp Spring morning.
He didn't take his medication.
He did watch TV.
He did sit outside.
He visited his wife's grave, who laid eternally in his backyard.
He started to feel sick. For a second, he eyed his pills.
But he still didn't take them.
Steven F. Jones laid in his bed that evening, staring and the ceiling,
Waiting for the ending he so viciously craved. ...
It's 10:18 in the afternoon.
Teeth have been brushed,
Pajamas have been put on,
and goodnights have been said.
I sit alone in my room.
Faint sounds are heard throughout the house:
My sister plays the guitar every night,
I can hear it through the ceiling
From her room above me.
I communicate with my next eldest brother
by knocking on the wall in between our rooms.
I hear my little brothers bickering next door
Back and forth in their twin bunk bed.
I hear the plumbing and pipes in my walls,
so I always know whenever someone turns on a sink
or flushes a toilet.
My dog snorts softly at the foot of my bed.
My pen smoothly scratches across my notebook.
The sound of my ink on my paper soothes me.
The noises throughout my house are relaxing.
I am calm, even with
My sister singing Ed Sheeran upstairs,
My brothers arguing over who can do the best...