Happy Born Day.

Breaking news: 14 year old boy shot by his frien-

This just in, it was his father’s gun

Here’s An update on the matter, the boys were trying to scare off other kids-

Another update they were all just playing with the gun and it was truly and accident

Charged as an adult, 13 year old- 

Old habits die hard, dreams float with the moonlight on top of the island waves,

Brains hideaway like myths in mountain caves,

Thoughts tucked in icicles melting only when it’s warm, 

On the inside,

Inside what’s a rotting banana

The outer shell is pretty, the brightest yellow in the world,

The inside brown as if it was tossed into mud and manure,

Not fully contaminated only small pieces,

Like splats from a dishonest painter,

Yet, There's still purity in it all. 

Stepping outside your soul 

Watching your life unfold before you

Reading your story one page at a time

Some chapters repeating themselves

Some chapters repeating themselves 

Some chapters repeating themselves 

Blank pages filled with black ink,

No smudges, perfectly printed 

You cannot erase, white-out, or burn the book

For you will die,

Others right notes in the margins to state their opinions

They turn into text

The font with your name on it

Hands rush for quills 

Writing over your words 

Soon, their story is yours 

You lose yourself 

Turning into leaves and falling off

Changing your life,

Yellow,

No photosynthesis,

Soon decomposed,

Floating with the moonlight on top of island waves,

For this is a dream,

In a cold dark mountain cave,

Trying to find piece of mind,

You drink hot sludge to feel warm,

On the outside,

Soul cold as winter blows, 

Sliding in a snowstorm,

There's no home for it here, 

It's not what it used to be,

It lacks a lot of energy, 

Your light shines dimmer,

Green, 

Finding a warped reflection in water is your perception of the soul's connection,

Going back into the cave to find the weapon, 

Only to see it frozen, 

What could possibly make it warm enough to melt ice in negative degrees,

Love,

The warmth of a summer day consumes the room for you, remember, 

You,

Going back to the book, 

Words revert to what you remember,

A heart full of gold, a mind full of power, 

And a soul that glowed so bright it was a second sun,

Red,

A room full of love and warmth 

All over,

Looking into the ripples of the water,

To see that the reflection is clear,

Veering off into the sunset knowing now the chapter is over,

Hoping to write a new tomorrow, 

For you are awake.

Starting somewhere, 

A clean slate,

As crystal clear as the tears that seem to lye on your cheek,

Is this happiness? 

Is this feeling?

Numbness negated,

Feelings flowed and shown to you,

Things that had feeling all this time but no meaning,

Crippling the soul that so desperately needed to run,

To freedom, 

From oneself and one’s own kind,

To finally know thyself,

To finally find,

What was missing all along,

The chapter written over and over written, 

How long have I been here?

Reading the same page, 

Seemingly going insane,

But my eyes were looking for something I could not see,

My soul, scared and quivering, hiding from me, 

Now that we meet again, I can finally feel,

Pink, 

Flesh is moving within me, 

I never acknowledged my body before,

I’ve seemed to have a perspective through eyes,

Not through body,

My senses are sending me vibrations that have been lost,

Stuttering on a page that has just begun, 

A few hiccups are expected,

You have surpassed expectations with relations in this rehab,

Not knowing when I’m fully present,

I seem to have omnipresence,

I’m not God, 

I am an answer,

I am an ancestor,

I am an experience,

I am delirious, 

I am reborn. 

Is this truly an ending,

Or an endless cycle,

Old habits die hard.