In My Own Words

- An Observation of Reflection

must search the world

to be together as one.

Well,

I’m sick and tired of waiting around

in hopes I’ll see you downtown.

So,

This song is for you dear

I’m singing on the radio

In hopes that a smile

Will fall from your eyes

and spread across your face.

And when these words are over,

I’m packing my bags

So that we can sing this together,

As one.

- Original, Magic Gardens 2013

But you know exactly who I am

You wouldn’t have to look at the book in my hand,

Nor the mismatched socks on my feet.

You can see it in my eyes,

The distant, dreamy look to the coffee-brown.

For, you see, I am not a part of this world.

I am from time and space,

Traveling with the Doctor.

I am a Musketeer fighting for France.

I am the Avatar, master of all four elements.

I am a wizard, casting spells you couldn’t possibly dream of.

I am a steampunk princess,

Dressed in both the latest metallic fashions and weapons.

I am a pirate, on a search for special treasure.

I am a dreamer,

Lost in her travels

Unable to find her place

In this tiny little Earth.

Seats for two.

- Original, 2014

Words, words, words.

When they plead for an escape

from my monstrous mouth

They are trapped

Forever the damsel,

But with no hope for a hero.

But words,

When written,

Pages turn into miles,

While the ink becomes oceans.

It’s words, not stupidity

That is holding me back,

Back with blackmail.

The plays in my mind want to act,

The grief of my past wants to sing,

The longing of my heart wants to love.

But it’s all held back,

By my st-st-stutters,

Hidden in my “ums”’s and “yeah”’s.

Lost in the silence,

Confused by the awkward,

Tripping over one another,

As they rush out at once,

Fleeing when I need them to explain

The garbled mess I just spewed

From my monstrous mouth.

Leaving me,

Alone, alone, alone

With no words

left to speak.

You see,

I fall for men.

Fictional men.

I fall in love with

Each new drop of ink

That describes his beautiful face

I fall in love with

Each word he utters

From his chimerical mouth

His ever-bright

Ever made-up existance

Brightens so

Reality seems faded

I have fallen in love with you,

My storybook man

May we spend the rest

Of our irrelevant lives

Together.

Regrets are my nursery rhymes

Despair

The melody I drift off to

And it is the distant whispers of broken dreams

That are the last sounds that fill my head

Before fantasy overcomes reality

And the nightmares begin again

The birth of a writer is magical.

She is born from a pen, When it first touches the paper.

The ink is her blood flow, The lines are her bones. Her world is new, Innocent as a blank page.

This innocence fuels a passion, One that will change the world. She will no longer sit on the sidelines.

She sets sail, On a new adventure, That takes her across pages.

Monsters will be born, By her dirty words written.

Hero will rise, To challenge hateful thoughts.

As a last clenching attempt, A damsel will fall to danger. But heroic words, Will swing her to safety.

When she is finished, And the pen is set down, The writer still lives on, Somewhere, Somehow.

And as she takes her steps, A new she inside, The world will accept her, Arms open wide, And together we will change, Our hearts united as one. 

How are we all connected?

Why?

This baby cries, Not knowing what to do. Hush now, child. One day you will know. And the day you know, You will pick up your pencil, Your brush, Your note,

And set your spirit free.