Selfmy

Tiredly looking at sea, Gull feathers float down As another lost soul is taken Thus away from me. The wind hits bone As salt sprays and froths upward Catching a sailors peppered hair As the body is cast with a stone. Travelling over Atlantic waters, Dreaming of home once more, Fathers wishing for nothing more than To come home to their sons and daughters.

        A pale arm fell off the side of a grey car seat back. The young man stretched as much as he could in his cavalier. He yawned, loudly in the silent sanctuary which the late morning sun was invading. His feet rustled food wrappers beneath his feet, like fall leaves in the crisp frost; a sharp sound. All this was lost in a few quick moments, not important in Richard James Edwards mind.        He had just left his rock-star world behind. The other day was when he left little gifts' behind for his band mates at the hotel; James, Sean and Nicky. Hopefully they would

Sometimes life gets you down, And you don't know where to go; You feel lost, alone, confused. You stumble and fall, Wondering if you should pick yourself up again. Those times are dark, But there is a glimpse of light far away. Reaching for it, grasping, It's all that you need In this world of gray's. Sometimes life will kick you around, And you don't want to go on; Remember that there is a light, However small, To guide you onward and on.

Dear Zane,      First, I want you to know that this letter isn't meant to be hurtful in any way, shape or form. This is mostly me trying to get things off my chest; things being ideas, thoughts and feelings.      We had such a great and wonderful friendship through the years, but then things change as things naturally do. I tried to hold onto something and just pushed it away more and more. Inside I'm glad you got away when you did because things became better for me by getting worse. I made the best of friends, I am getting the help I need for my disorders, and I can safely say that I'm be

I feel like sand. I'm everywhere all at once and I'm really no shape at all. If someone knows how to play with sand they can shape it really well, and if they don't then it just slips between their finger tips. Nature will shape sand and it is at someone else's will, the texture changing greatly depending on what's going on. Sand in itself is hardly anything at all but instead a breaking down of the earth itself, the rocks, the dust. It's many things at once, it's even the things that live within its touch; feathers, bones and shells. It's many things all at once and hardly a thing at all. And I feel like sand.

Dear L, Thank you for showing me the things I already know deep down and the things I don't. Thank you for being there for me when everyone refused to. Thank you for touching my soul on occasion. Thank you for reading me and teaching me slowly how to read myself. Thank you for making live worth living for when I hate it. Thank you for awesome hugs. Thank you for testing my limits. Thank you for putting up with me and all the shit I do. Thank you for just being you. Thank you.

She sat upon the porch step Wishing for passersby to notice How much she needed help. Her family screaming from inside; A family fight had broken out, And she was alone once more trying To find ways to cope with every Day life and the demands of such. Not much made her smile And not much made her happy When she knew every day she would Need to return to her home. A house is hardly a home when Love doesn't knock on the door Even once in a while.

Sometimes you look out To try and find what's within. Sometimes you seek what Can never be found And what you need is Right beneath your nose. Sometimes you get lost And you just can't find Your way in the maze Which is life. Sometimes you get to a Dark place and you can't Seem to dig yourself out. Sometimes you are at your Lowest point, breaking point, And you need someone to help you. Sometimes no one is there And all you have is yourself, And that's where you're at.

She came through the window, A blanket of white and fog. As the blanket of early morning cold Covered the city streets, She came in and held me for a while, Just long enough to let me smell her; Than she was gone for the day. To return at that odd hour once more, To plague my dreams and make Me wish for her to stay just for one day. So was the nature of her being, So was the nature of my muse.

You're pressed against the wall, Trying not to fall, Come closer to me; Let me help you, Let me free you. On your last leg, It's weak and tired. Your crutch is breaking, And you keeping thinking "I just want to stand."