Ode To A Snowflake

And It glides gently through the air with little effort

Floating from left to right

Back and forth like a frozen buoy atop a rocky ocean.

Wandering aimlessly through the times, being very polite.

And then it lands,

resting on fallen brethren.

A clock stops ticking, a bird stops chirping, a heart stops beating

and they all just watch.

A squirrel scurries to get a better look, a tree stands proudly,

and a man just keeps walking.

It was you, Ms. Rainy Day.

It was you, Ms. Rainy Day,

that I saw that day, trying never to fall for you.

My efforts futile.

It was you, Ms. Rainy Day,

that swept my heart into your hand.

Slowly your grip tightened.

It was you, Ms. Rainy Day,

that had my blood drip down the length of your arm.

Forever staining your conscience. 

It was you, Ms. Rainy Day,

that turned into a coward amidst shadows.

Bravery melted into a puddle at the feet of your skeleton.

It was you, Ms. Rainy Day,

that made me lay awake.

"Maybe she's just busy."

It was you, Ms. Rainy Day,

who has memories scattered in my mind like pictures on a floor.

Never blurred. Never leaving.  Always there.

It was you, Ms. Rainy Day,

that smashed me into a thousand pieces.

Left me here alone to try and restore myself.

It was you, Ms. Rainy Day,

that wandered my dreams.

Fulfilling the irreconcilable.

It was you, Ms. Rainy Day,

that broke my heart.

It's you, Sarah.

Ticket To Ride

The heat of excitement fills my stomach while I sit in this theater, nestled warmly against the worn red cloth of the seat. Lighthearted banter encompasses my milieu. Jokes about the past day are being told while joviality is passed around like bread during Catholic mass.  The others in the audience form a soft, yet roaring ambience that fills space around me. People flow in from the left and the right entrances like water through a broken levee. Hundreds of people gather to this event to laugh and escape their worries even if it is for a brief moment. I look towards an entrance and notice a sea of mediocrity; familiar faces and strangers alike. Just when boredom is coursing through my body, I see this girl.

I then start a battle with my respiratory system for a single breathe for this stunningly poetic lady has become a thief. She has stolen my breathe away without the slightest hesitancy. Something tells me this isn't the first time she has committed this crime and in no way am I complaining. Her face full of modesty tell me that she really didn't mean to. She is shorter than your average bear.Her short, curly brown hair makes her extremely unique. One lone curl falls down the front of her face. Her eyes are a deep brown cache of eternal beauty. She has a bag slung over her shoulder and scarf loosely around her neck. She has a white long sleeved dress shirt with the cuffs rolled up to about midway up her forearms. The shirt is accompanied by dark blues jeans. 

She stands at the entrance while the people around her scamper to their seats. Scanning for her friend(s), she looks left and then right. I, still shocked at level of artistic perefection set before me, try to make it obvious that I'm looking not directly at her. I feel that I belong in a Looney Toons cartoon with my jaw dropped to the floor. While in a beauty induced coma, she has found her friend(s) and now has sat down. My mind begins to race and debate on if this was real. Was this statuesque young woman really in front of me or do my eyes play cruel tricks on me? I sit back in my seat, looking to the ceiling in befuddlement. I then wonder if she happened to see me. Before my thought can finish the lights go black and the show I came to see begins, but at this point, the show comes in second place because I just had my night made from this celestial being. 

Black Sheep

"My dream is just outside the door. All I have to do is learn to to chase it. Maybe even one day learn to let it in"- Martin Sexton

I feel that before I die, I must leave my friends and family behind and be completely secluded from society from a long period of time. It's not that I dislike my time around here. I absolutely  adore it and without the people in my life, I would be dead and that's a fact. But it's the complete mental silence is something that very few you people get to experience. The ability to separate yourself and truly concentrate on a goal. Maybe I'll get to do that after college. Get on a bus to nowhere with nothing, but a pencil, paper and my thoughts. 

In a perfect world, I would leave my life for a while, write my book, come back and find myself a classy lady that is so truly beautiful that angels blush in her presence. She would be so cool that she could get any movie she ever wanted on VHS. I can see her now. I feel somewhat piggish for not being able to describe her as a whole because I'm just soaking her all in for myself. I apologize.

..So...There's This Girl..

I am a statue of inevitable humiliation and disgrace for I'm not what I'm supposed to be. I'm in a forest of uncertainty because no one is there for me to reflect myself upon. I am a lost statue covered in lime and rust. I see signs around the forest telling me I should better myself so I'm able to shine like yesteryear. I've done all I can, but I cannot break free from the curse you have put on my mind, body and very essence of my being. With the remaining shred of hope, I try, but my efforts remain futile.

Why have you engulfed me in shadows when I all I wish to do is drape you in sunlight? I frantically search the aisles of my mind for a conclusion, but it is gone quickly like light from a crack of lightning throughout a midnight sky. I once thought of you as a saint sent from on high, but now I view you as a mere thief.

• You have stolen my tongue for I cannot speak.
  
• You have stolen my mind for I cannot think.
  
• You have stolen my heart for I cannot love.
  

I am a statue of failure.