The sound of feet beckons me,

But throws me forward all the same.

Smelling things I cannot see,

Dreading the coming rain.

As panthera is to it’s prey,

I am to my form.

Voices guiding my way,

Although I’m gladly forlorn.

Distraction is a simple treat,

My imagination supple.

I recognize them as we meet,

Finding comfort in our bubble.

Tears and sweat create my sea,

But still the sound of feet beckons me.

The birds wake me in song,

the sky wakes me in light.

The air wakes me with a chill,

my bladder wakes me at night.

Who wakes the birds to sing their song?

Who wakes the sky to light up the world?

Who gives the air the life that it needs?

With nothing to drink, why must I pee?

I'm not looking for an answer,

I simply like the questions.

just how the birds like their song,

and the tune that its left in.

Who am I to question emotions? Who am I to question what I feel? Who am I to throw away emotions I don't like? Who am I to turn it all off?

I don't know.

But I do it anyway. Anger helps no one. Give me a second, and it's gone. Sadness is weak. Takes a little longer but I sweep it under just fine. Regret doesn't even exist here.

That leaves happiness and fear. They fill up the empty space. I'm always too happy or too scared. But I'm not really. That's how I react with all I've left myself. Is empty fear a thing? Empty joy? I'm not pretending, but it's not true either.

She told me she had time enough and time, I did believe, was what she was referring to which is how this came to be.

He looked in my eyes for more than a mile which sense it doesn't make,

but tossing time right out the door, sense isn't what this takes.

Time, oh time, oh time again is knocking on her door. And as she screams it bangs and bangs while spilling on the floor.

I ran a mile, a mile fast but missed the giant still.

(The giant is the blue boy who's eyes ran down the hill)

No sense I'm making , no sense at all, for which we don't have time,

but then. Oh then! He poked my stomach,his touch tickled my spine.

She started pacing back and forth as it crashed against her door,

And not knowing how to proceed, she sat down on the floor.

I entered through her window, hoping to find a plan,

but instead the room was empty and the door was leaking sand.

I lie down on the floor knowing she was simply stress.

And as time keeps banging at my door I know my mind's a mess.

I'll un-pollute your skies, and Quiet your once silent nights.

I'll light up your dark, I'll be a friend.

I'll clean your waters, I'll find your smile.

I'll ask if you're okay.

And when I can once again see rolling hills and blooming buds,

and once your laughter fills the air,

I'll need no thanks for saving you.

I don't want you, I don't love you, and yet you make me cry.

With all the things you've thrown away, my feelings simplified.

Analyze my words, my tears, my smile from day to day,

Each one begins to disappear when you come my way.

I despise your existence as you make me despise mine,

I quickly unravel, where goes the time?

All this and that and scars aside,

maybe if you loved me I'd actually be fine.

Maybe if when I was sad you actually cared,

or you would meet me halfway when I said that you scared me...

But you beat me and screamed and tinted my skin,

I was stuck in a corner because you pushed me in!

I fell deeper and deeper into the hole, the endless abyss

I reached for a ledge but each time I missed.

I don't want you to touch me, yet I long for a hug;

I don't love you, but I long for your love.

No, I can't love you, the listed causes as far as one can see.

No, I don't love you, but why can't you love me?

I wish she would smile more often.

That she was less sad and less blue.

I wish that she was less lonely.

And of course, by she, I mean you.

I wish you made better decisions.

That you knew how to say what you mean.

I wish you weren’t so impulsive.

And of course, by you, I mean me.

I wish they all didn’t hate me.

I wish they all wouldn’t yell.

I am so angry at me,

But by me do I mean myself?

She helped me believe I could fly. I was seven years old when we first both looked to the sky. She was pink. My favorite color was purple- thats okay though she had wings. Those wings looked like bunny ears and that's what I thought they were. So we never got to fly. A simple misunderstanding. One that stole the sky from her, from me.

Now we sit, grounded, unaware of what exactly we're missing, but missing it all the same.

She danced with me. I was a ballerina with pigeon toed feet. Physical therapy for me. I took a photograph with her and my tutu colored to match her. We smile together. She taught me how to smile and now we laugh together.

She once sang a song. I would play it on loop and we would sing together. She taught me how to sing and now she listens with her voice long gone, to me sing this song...

She was beautiful and I loved her. She taught me to be beautiful and to love me. I miss that love. I miss that fun. I miss her.

She sits on my dresser and soothes me to sleep, but I miss her still and the youth she came with. She's retired. I shouldn't know, but I can tell.

She was never my favorite. She was my only. And she still is.

Family. what a word. But, family is just a word. It will always be just a word. This isn't just the case for family that treats you badly or family that isn't really your family, because family shouldn't mean you have to do something. Family shouldn't mean that you have to give up something for someone else, family shouldn't mean that you are forever connected and nothing can break you apart. That's not what family means.

I honestly don't think anyone really knows what family means. Family is supposed to mean those who are blood-related to you... but blood is just a liquid. If blood were what connected us as human beings, wouldn't we all be family? And sure DNA might have something to do with what family means, but DNA is just a fact. A scientific fact.

Someone giving birth to you makes them your mother by fact, DNA, and blood. Someone giving you a sense of what the word family really means has nothing to do with facts, DNA, or blood.

If you can look at someone and think, they are my family, (and not in the sense that they are related to you)if you can really sit and think and say they are my family. mine. They love me, I love them and We Are Family.Then you know what this word means.

The biggest misinterpretation people make about the word family is that you can't choose it. And they're right, you can't choose who your family is. But not in the way that most people think. You can't choose who you're related to, and you can't choose who’s family to you. If they give you that family feeling, whether you like it or not they are family. and that's what family means.

That's what I believe family means. But, like I said, family is just a word. Family is just a word because it can mean anything. You won't find any true meaning in a dictionary because that feeling that you're looking for, apparently, there's not a word for it.