Just a Feeling

Can't Be to Oz

I'm sorry,

I'm lost.

I went down a path a while ago,

It feels like yesterday and a million years ago at the same time.

I was so sure before I made my way down the twisting, battered yellow bricks like Dorothy in the The Wizard of Oz.

I was so strong then so sure.

Then I met a man with no heart.

He drew one with paint on his metal armor and came with me.

I met a woman,

Her hair red like the flames of a furious dragon's breath.

She acted confident,

Smearing unneeded make-up on her beautiful face.

Last but not least I met a small child,

Her eyes big with hope and innocence as she searched for safety.

We set off in search for someone with no name or face,

No destination in mind as I came to know these people.

The man wore armor so people couldn't hurt him,

He'd lost his heart to a girl that killed it.

The girl was insecure and unsure in her own skin,

She lost her confidence when someone forced himself on her.

The little girl lost the light in her eyes and was very mature,

She'd lost her childhood to a harsh reality of an abusive father and a mentally unstable mother.

They were all beautiful though and began to love each other and themselves in the process.

We met the person we'd been searching for,

Ourselves,

Because let me tell you a secret,

All of the three people were me,

And while I walked on my own,

I got to know and love my flaws.

I found myself on my own,

In the land of Oz.

Getting Up

When I fell in love,

And he caught me,

It was magical.

My already bright world grew even brighter.

My heart almost exploded with every kiss,

Every hug,

Every laugh.

But when he dropped me,

I landed so hard it left me blind.

It was easy to fall in love,

But hard to get back up.

I thought he loved me.

I thought he meant it like I did.

I thought he wanted and needed me like I did him.

I thought...

I thought...

But in the end I was wrong.

And I hated him for playing me like some sort of love stricken instrument,

But I have to say now that I'm so grateful to him,

Because the person that helped me up is my one and only now.

He looked at me like I was beautiful,

Like I was irreplaceable,

Like I was so much more than I was.

I love someone else now.

But like I said before...

Falling in love is easy.

It's getting back up that's the hard part.

Ocean

I've realized recently that I don't give myself the luxury of self-pity as many do and should.

I don't give myself a corner,

Where I can sob into the walls,

Where I can rest my back and think,

Where I can push off of the walls that have supported me and watch them fall,

As if I was in a box,

Like the cocoon of a butterfly,

And I was emerging,

New and even prettier than before.

No.

I almost refuse to cry,

And the tears that I haven't let flow from my eyes have built up.

I'm holding an ocean of pain,

Of sadness,

Of loss,

And of everything that I do not let myself want.

I can even see it.

It's palpable.

Salty and endless,

A deep blue of the darkest hue,

One step away from black.

I stand on a large wall holding the ocean from a small island,

And I can see it disappear into the distance,

As does the water on the horizon.

Suddenly everything shakes and I hear a voice that calls to me,

Louder than even the ocean in this deafening quake that has taken hold of my heart.

I can't anymore,

It says.

It hurts.

They say not to bottle up you emotions,

But what happens when you've got so much emotion it doesn't fit in your heart,

Your mind,

And you can't voice it well enough for others to understand?

What happens when your emotion can't fit in a bottle in the first place?

I hear the voice scream in anger and pain.

In a rage of the endlessness of my vast ocean.

They have a word for this...

Ah,

Yes,

I remember now.

As the wall shakes I turn to see a raft and jump on it just as the dam breaks.

I hold on for the ride,

Drowning in the emotions.

Pain presses me down and the raft sinks.

Loss comes in a wave,

In a tsunami,

And I start to drown in it.

Items I'd never asked for,

That I'd never let myself want,

Cut me and beat into me.

The people I long for are above the surface,

Watching with pained expressions.

I lost so much...

I pull up and breathe after the wave dies down,

And the people I'd fought to get to are gone.

Sadness sprays me constantly,

Wet and salty,

Cold and soft,

yet demanding of my attention.

I look around as the water smoothes out.

The dam has sunk, yet the water seems to grab the sky.

It hasn't been cried,

It has simply broken the dam to flood the rest of the land,

The small bit left that was my sanctuary.

I remember what the emotion was called.

The one like anger and pain,

Like sadness and loss and regret.

The word that describes everything I feel as I look at what has happened to me...

Agony.

Walk for Roses

Born into the world with a large bouquet of roses,

As large as my heart and my love.

I give one to my mother and father,

Happy that they are there to love me.

Father and Mother do not love each other as strongly or as purely as before,

And they split.

My father leaves,

His rose that mother had given him out of her bouquet has wilted and dispersed into the wind,

But mine is still in his hand,

Bright red and overflowing with life.

It,

Too,

Will wilt.

I walk the path of life,

Bouquet in hand,

And try to hand my 'friends' a rose.

They don't take them and instead ignore that I'd even tried to hand it to them.

I keep the rose within their reach,

But,

Forgotten by them,

It sits there,

Neglected,

And I watch it wilt as many after it will too.

I keep walking,

Realizing many of the roses are dying in my hands with every step I take.

I'm scared no one will take them.

As I walk a rose petal falls and I step on it,

No longer caring,

And it's crumbs dissolve behind me.

One petal,

Two petals,

One rose,

Two roses.

I meet a boy and he,

Not I,

Gives a rose.

In return I give him two.

I learn that in some relationships one loves more than the other.

I also learn that not all love is real.

The roses petals are made of the finest silk,

It's stem of the fakest plastic,

And it's thorns of the sharpest blades.

He rips the rose from my hand and gives it to another,

And I cry,

Though not from the pain in my hand,

But from the pain in my heart.

I put my bloodied hand back to my bouquet and press it close to my now scarred heart and begin,

Once more,

To walk the path of life.

I no longer bother to give others my roses as often as I once did,

But those I did give them to did one of two things.

Some tucked close to their hearts and walked away,

While others crushed the rose and shoved it back in my arms.

'Friends,'

I learned,

Were rarely ever true.

But those who were always,

No matter if you parted or not,

Took care of your rose and kept it so close to their heart it became a part of them.

I have had few roses given to me,

But despite the fact the I was no longer with any of them,

Or that they might not feel the same way,

I took the best care of their roses and kept them close to my heart.

On my way again,

I walk.

I walk,

And walk,

And walk...

Until I meet another boy.

I've met him before,

But this time it's different.

I have never forgotten him.

I search my bouquet for my best rose,

But it is not as bright as it once was.

It was crusty from age,

And had the blood from my old wound on it,

But it was the prettiest,

Sweetest,

Truest one,

And I handed it to him.

I expected him to slap it away or ignore me,

But he didn't.

He took it and gave me one of his.

It was beautiful and though I knew I wouldn't know if it was fake until he took it back,

I was happy beyond belief that he felt the same way.

We tuck our bouquets in our elbows and put our roses not close to our heart,

But close to our soul.

We take each other's hands and begin to walk again.

I do not know yet where my walk will end,

Or what my roses will look like when I get there,

But I do know right now that I hope my rose doesn't wilt and his rose stays mine forever.

I hope...

I hope he'll let me love him forever,

And that he'll love me too.

Scared of Love

It's scary that I loved you enough to want you when we were together,

And now I'm more than that.

I'm terrified,

I'm mortified,

I'm petrified,

I'm scared.

I'm not close to you anymore,

I can't see your your beautiful face,

Can't hug you,

Talk to you,

Or simply be with you,

Like I could before.

You'd think I would move on,

But instead this distance has fueled my desire for you.

Not in a way that could be questioned,

But an honest,

Raw need to simply sit with you and look into your breathtaking eyes whilst we talk.

I want to be innocent with you,

To hold your hand and feel my palms sweat from me being so nervous.

To cuddle and never want to move even though my arm was has fallen asleep.

To look composed even though I'm freaking out when we don't have anything to talk about.

I want an awkward silence that soon fills with laughter because we just can't not think its funny.

Isn't it scary?

How I simply want to be myself for you,

To get better for you,

To love you?

Isn't it terrifying,

How I want to watch movies with you,

Laugh with you,

Learn about you,

And love you?

It blows my mind.

Mi Amor,

I have to ask,

Does my love scare you like it scares me?

Lonely Levels

The worst case of loneliness is not when you are alone in a crowd,

Or with no one at all.

It's when you're alone with yourself,

With your thoughts,

That loneliness hits you like a blank page.

Because when you have yourself as company you realize,

Whether you're with others or not,

You will always have a part of the vast page that no one but you can see.

A Bit of Him

His eyes were like a lost sentance,

Yet he moved like poetry in motion.

His lips made small birds sing,

Yet his love roared like an ocean.

Distance From Dianne

Being away from her,

It's like someone is ripping my heart apart,

Tearing into me every second of everyday.

When I lay down,

It feels as if grief has taken my heart from my chest,

Yet at night,

When I dream of her,

She puts my heart right back like she's cared dearly for it everyday,

And I remember it was never in my chest,

But in her hands.

Then I wake up and she's no longer with me,

And it starts all over again.

Loving the Tears

I love to cry.

I have such a hard time reaching that point,

But once I do it is utter bliss.

Haven't you ever wondered why your tears are salty?

I think the answer is simple and unscientific,

Common sense in its deepest and darkest form.

Tears are salty because pain,

Sorrow,

Hatred,

Anger,

It all weighs you down like salt.

Heavy,

It sucks the water,

Your very essence,

Right out of you.

Like salt on a snail,

It makes you shrivel up.

It kills you slowly,

It burns on your open wounds,

It mixes with your blood and sweat,

It makes you itch the wounds until they are a gaping hole.

Once a splinter is now a gash.

Then,

Suddenly,

Thankfully,

It happens.

The salt mixes with water in the one place that shows it all no matter what;

Your eyes.

The feelings make your vision blur,

Your eyes burn,

But as you let the salty tears fall...

So does the weight of the salt.

Grain by minuscule grain,

You lose the weight.

That is why I love to cry.

Sometimes,

Though,

I wish I could cry easier.

I wish it was easier to blur out the world and feel the pain in my eyes,

Itchy and uncomfortable,

Then in my heart,

Painful and begging to stop beating.

I wish I could cry because I love letting the pain go but somehow it just hold me here.

I want to cry.

I want to cry...

Coldplay Joker

I wanted to laugh;

Never had I made a move so fast.

I didn’t think I wanted him anyway.

I didn’t think I was a fan of Coldplay.

I didn’t make the mistake that ended it;

I wasn’t about to be the one to get bit,

But he said I was a problem,

And I just wasn’t going to be one.

“I’m not going to come back to you.”

He didn’t really expect me to.

“I’m not here for your convenience.”

I wouldn’t even be an acquaintance.

He didn’t mean to hurt me,

Yet he blocked me purposefully.

I’ve spent too long on my own,

For one boy to get me down.

I love myself too much,

To let him be my judge.

I’m worth it and he’s not fit.

To act like I’ve just lost him?

I don’t need him or want him,

I can rule on a whim,

I’m a Queen and too legit,

For that Joker and his bullshit.