Thoughts

I'm not an emo kid, but sometimes i feel like stopping everything now before it causes my death anyway.

Yet other tmes i wish my life would never end.

If you stand above a 50 foot drop in a valley for so long.

You would know the fine line between life and death.

Yet it can be swayed so easily.

All it takes is a feeling.

That can rock you back and forth.

I don't want a bullet in the head.

I don't need a gun held to my head.

I don't want to have to say goodbye.

Sitting on a broken swivel chair.

Singing the lyrics to your song.

Watching the doors and hoping no one overhears.

We've all got a way to fall.

They'll tell you where to go.

But they won't know where you'll end up.

I need to stay afloat for the summer....

Lost-

The guitar gently strums and echoes through the halls.

And now the purple dust of twilight time, steals across the meadows of my heart.

The songs I remember, always there for comfort if things go awry.

A tiny butterfly that flies past your eyes on a fair afternoon can change your idea of life.

There is no strict meaning to life.

Except for one.

One thing so important that it outrides almost everything else.

What is it you ask?

You tell me.

Floating by the skies of peach in an airship high above the green green grass of home.

One step closer to heaven and one step away from hell.

Halfway between the gutter and the stars.

Riding on wings of angel's feathers.

The ominous chatter amidst the deep silence before the charge.

The whisper of your name on the wind.

If you took the ride into the west, on the grey ships.

I would swim behind you all the way.

If I could, then I would.

Dragging myself from bed to wake up everyday.

My life plotted in front of me, in pencil.

Pages torn, eraser marks all around.

Hoping not to make the mistake to end all mistakes.

But then again, the real world is just a lie you've got to rise above.

Those who colour outside the lines are the respectable people.

Heroes, heroines. The people you hate, the people you love.

Something that means the most to you may be with you for a tiny bit of time. And gone the next moment.

Gone without a trace.

And all you are left with is a memory.

Dreams.

Dreams of everything that happened after the void of not having it and everything before the void when it's gone.

It hurts to be able to think and not speak it.

The only escape is the printed word.

Quiet storms can be the deadliest of all.

One of the few things able to pull me out of bed each morning are the dreams i have.

Without them, this time i'm living would be a void as well.

Something can be so beautiful to someone that it aches.

Writers try to create something like that.

Often failing, or getting dissed for trying.

Yet all they wanted was to fulfil a dream that they believed in so much that it hurt.

Writers or any other artists are the others of the society.

Unfair, but ultimately true.

Have you ever seen a bright night sky where the clouds for a smooth black drape between the stars.

Standing on that same cliff with the 50 foot drop and watching the stars dance about on the black suede.

The purple moonlight caressing the trees and rocks.

Standing silently, watching the city below as a wailing violin plays a hopeful tune.

Jumping off that cliff hoping your dreams would give you wings.

And even if you hit the ground.

They will keep you alive.

There is a ways more to go from here.

One more step and we'll be furthest away from the start we've ever been.

We're constantly taking steps.

Getting to the end point is tough and hard to get by.

But if theres something to believe in, you can fly away on it's breeze.

And where the grass kisses the clouds, we'll be going.


Kyle

-Thoughts-