Purple.

Humans are such blissful things.
We love to push and scorn anything that we find fit to be called "sin."
We lust over our own accomplishments, our pure self-righteousness.
Our bodies turn from what we really think and feel and see, only because it is not "favorable." But, to whom? Ourselves? Our peers? Our leaders?
We've been taught backwards, I'd say.
Taught to 'not,' and 'stop' and 'don't.' Instead of, "yes" and "be" and "love."
What's so wrong about love?
Is it sinful to express it for your best companions, with kindness?
Isn't that how it's written we live?
We've taken our own stand.
We've written our own rules.
Going above God to say what is noble.
Supplying grief and shame, just to comfort us in our pride.
Compromising truth and ignorance, to make us feel more worthy than another.
It's shameful.
Embrace for once.

Up.

You love something when it hurts deeply, but you can't get away.
That's where I am.
I don't know what to do.
Maybe it doesn't love me mutually.
I hope that's not the case.

Ode to a Bear

Dear Bear,
I've always have been intrigued by you.
You have style.
I won't find you amongst many other animals.
Your bones are an abnormal hue.
Your fur isn't clean, but I don't mind.
I know you may not enjoy my company.
But I really love yours.
Your mentality never stops impressing me.
You are one of the few good bears left in the wood.
I relish the silence.
You are a charming creature.
Please don't leave yet.
Bears don't actually hibernate.
Love,
A Fellow Bear

Glasses

They are pretty spectacular. They happen to be mere pieces of glass bent across our blinded eyes to give us the gift we once had. What we should have kept but gave away for one reason or another. They are second chances (and third and fourth...). They may not know what they provide us, and we may not care..but they do their job without complaint. Perhaps we could learn something from our specs.

Follow.

Nobody wants a broken car. No child wants a broken toy. Nobody has use for a broken mirror. It's all understandable really. They no longer serve a purpose. They have no worth. They no longer fill OUR needs. If it's broken, why not just throw it out? There's plenty where they came from, right? Why keep something that requires repair? In this world everything is replaceable, nothing is worth the effort of fixing. That takes to much of OUR precious time. We have agendas to live by. How could we spend a moment restoring something so silly as that? There's no reason to mend a broken car, toy, or mirror. Or person.

Outside.

I've been neglecting this. Oddly, the one thing that I really feel can help the change. The act that reminds me of my staggering emotion. The single escape I can find. My own comfort. Where have I been? I suppose I should have known. I should have gotten out my binoculars and saw this not too far off. I am destroying myself. My attempts at happiness were silly and mostly in vain. I am my own doctor Frankenstein. I never intended this monster. It's purpose was not to demolish this much. I was blinded by foolishness.
This may sound crazy but, I would like to thank you. You gifted me with pain which tore me to the point of realization. Without a doubt the sting hasn't yet vanished, and it won't for a while. However, I needed it. Keep in mind I still need you.

False Teeth

Funny. Yes. Funny how all can change post slight readjustments. When all we know has been flipped around. Morals now are mere suggestions to abide by. Bandages now last the evening, just to be torn off while resting. Selfishness now stands hand in hand with selflessness, because at least one party HAS to be selfish for the other to be selfless. All that we know has been altered into an unrecognizable state. To me, all is ruin. Tossed aside are the compassionate hearts of those who used to accommodate those in need. Sure, my kind looks similar to years passed, but no one truly ventures to understand the damage done. It's there. You're there. Everyone is there! Lifting themselves up by re-entering the barbaric state that I thought we were too old for, too mature, too wise for! I suppose even dreamers are there. I myself, have been worn down into a fraction of the life I thought I was. I was a fool to think the former moments of my life were difficult. They are nothing to the everlasting pain I now endure. Those I loved and respected now torn from me. Our foundation is crumbling. Focus has been lost. After all, relationships form when leadership is out of the picture.

P.S. I don't know you anymore.

The Looking Glass

I find that my separate world is the best place for me to stay. Anything is real and I never want to leave. I love venturing there whenever life gets too lack luster. Which is often. I think I'll create more to it. I'll let it flourish. One day I won't ever have to go.

Maybe I'll blend it and reality together to create something even more unheard of.

Molasses

Stuck. That's what I am. Stuck. Trapped in my own self. Just a small fragment of me. Though it is the most important part. It's me. It's really me. Not pretending, not bluffing. Pure Whitney. A beautiful creature at that. Something to be proud of. Something for others to think about. However, the words can't come out. They don't exist. They sound like crazed babbling to the common man. Too bad. I suppose I'm just a prisoner...



Any one have bail?

Turnover

Erase it. Go on. Erase it. Not much is left anyways. Just forget about it. Yeah. There you go. It's gone. Are you satisfied? Does is feel good to demolish the greatest possible masterpiece in history? To know that our selfish nature got the best of us once again? Yeah, being human is really great. Not considering the scars left upon the other life. Great. We can't keep our eyes open long enough to ever comprehend the honorable side to us. We never drew the whole sketch. We left out the vital foundation of the tower.
However, denying the past is foolish. No one could look past the remarkable fun we had. Or how the sun was brighter when we drew.

Must we keep living this way?

Or must our creation suffer more?

I miss the entire thought of it.

More importantly I miss you.

First Time Around

Morning. Yesterday. The time when sandcastles were built and ribbons were floating through space. Now. Afternoon. Today. All is this nasty dead fruit color. The cable slipped. The hands lost grip. Now, all is complete. This is how things are without hue? Is this the true nature? How can such evil lie with happiness, and even joy? The world is dead. The life is a lie. For all is without a purpose if no one decides to seek it. He's waiting for us. He loves me. And you, and that urchin outside. He can restore all beauty. Too bad that no one moves toward the right direction for assistance. Nope, we sit in the dark feeding upon each other. We're gross. Basically.