Fears

I'm afraid of sharing my talents while being a show off. I'm afraid of rejection. I'm afraid that I will lose my job. I'm afraid of  too much attention. I'm afraid of failing school. I'm afraid of heights. I'm afraid homecoming won't turn out. I'm afraid of going to prom. I'm afraid to grow up. I'm afraid to drive and get my license because that shows that I'm growing up.  I'm afraid to face reality. I'm afraid that life will end too soon. I'm afraid that I won't get married. I'm afraid of change. I'm afraid of talking to people. I'm afraid to be better than someone and making them angry. I'm afraid of my talents. I'm afraid that I won't be able to fly. I'm afraid of my Father. I'm afraid of being accepted. I'm afraid of being different. I'm afraid of being the same. I'm afraid of doing something wrong. I'm afraid of my tummy not being filled with food. I'm afraid. I'm afraid.

Death

Dead, is not alive. In order for one thing to be considered alive, it must be moving in some way, or through something. It's a thing that's experienced physically, mentally, and spiritually. Everyone has experienced this loss. If we didn't, we wouldn't be alive. We learn from it. We grow from it. But most of all, we understand it. There is no power over death, we can only prevent others from dying.
When death comes across my mind, I think of disappointment and great loss. It takes time to recover, but when we do recover we find that we are stronger then we ever have been. The question everyone needs to ask themselves is: If I died today, what would be my regrets? What could I have done better? Then when you find out your answer you can act on it, because you're still alive. You're still alive.

Broken Dreams

I walk alone. All alone. I left my colors at home by my cell phone. I walk alone. I've been walking, walking with no end. There are streets wishing to be painted, but know it will never happen. On top of a hill, there is an easel waiting to be used, and a pure canvas wishing to have personality. There are no brushes, only filthy sticks. Humans, are not humans. They walk as living objects wishing to be touched by that blank canvas. Rivers have stopped flowing that never flowed in the beginning. I walk alone. This lonely road has always been this way. Only I exist, but I don't even know if that's even true. That's right. I'm not human either, nor am I anything. Just air, wishing to be breathed into something, or someone. I walk alone. 

I'm thinking about you

Baby, I wrote this poem today
If you only knew
How much I love you.
I'm thinking about you like peanut butter thinks about jelly.
I'm thinking about you like how my food thinks about filling my belly.
I'm thinking about you like railroad tracks think about a train.
I'm thinking about you like dummies think about having a brain.
I'm thinking about you like a book thinks about being open.
I'm thinking about you like a heart thinks about thump'n.
I'm thinking about you like life thinks about death
I'm thinking about you like lungs think about breath.
I'm thinking about you like a sculture thinks about clay
I'm thinking about you like yesterday thinks about today.

I'm thinking about you like a locked door thinks about a key.
I'm thinking about you like you... think about me.

Love, what is it?

Love is Breathless. (You cannot describe all the other emotions that are inside that one word. )
Love is a gift (you can enjoy the gift that's been given to you, or you can take advantage of it and let it destroy you.)
Love is water; we drink it, drown in it. Yet, we can't live without it.
Love is a rollercoaster; it has it's ups and downs.
Love is life; if it didn't exist, all the other human emotions we recieve don't exist either.
Love is a battlefield.
Love is comaring how we use a keyboard to a monitor. (Your hands are on the keyboard, but your eyes are always on the monitor.)
 Love is the back of your hand. (you know what's there, but something new always appears on it.)
 Love is sacrifice.
Love is equivilent exchange; in order to be loved, you need to give love in return.