The Mask.
Seeing through a sheet of glass, looking through a sordid mask,
I watch life go by, letting out a withdrawn sigh,
"Are you alright?" you ask with quite a fright and I nod sternly, firmly, murmuring, "Yes I'm fine."
"Are you sure?" you implore, I knew you saw more.
"Yes I'm fine!" I yell, and your voice fell saying: "Just wondering."
And you walked away humming a cheerful tune that did not lighten my darkened mood.
Here, alone, I begin to moan at why I feel this way, yet feeling sad is only a small price to pay, I watch you laugh and smile, chattering all the while, I wished you'd treat me the way you treat them, the way you love them, the way you love him….
I wished I was him.

Ditzy Girl.

The ditzy girl across the street… How I wish it was her I could meet.
She wears short ripped skirts and colorful shirts, wacky footwear, and a cheerful stare.
She jumps around, swift and sound, and snorts at her friends drinking port.
Getting drunk on alcohol isn't the only goal I see here.
They wish to amuse and sooth her, they wish to join her in her land of ecstasy.
The ditzy girl across the street, I wonder when we will meet.

Only Yesterday.

It was only yesterday when I smiled with you.
It was only yesterday when I laughed with you.
It was only yesterday when I cried with you.
It was only yesterday when I feared with you.
It was only yesterday… It was only yesterday…
It was only yesterday when I loved you.
And today, I still do.

Love Story

Here I am worrying, Okay? How I wished this feeling would go away. Don't you see it is not my fault I feel this way, "But you control your own emotions." You say, blinking with swimming blue eyes. I see you are loosing control, yet I believe it was my heart that was sold.
"I can't help it." I tell you.
"Why can't you understand?" you demand, your hair a mess.
"You're asking me?" I assess. Yet I was the one who felt for you, I sigh, and you remain silent. I can see what you really mean.
"This bothers you that much?"
"I thought you must have noticed as such." You mumble. I let out a little grumble.
"It's because you're straight, ain't it?"
You nod quickly and sit.
I stare into your eyes, my mind letting out a thousand cries.
I now know that what you think of me is nothing dear, simply because I am queer.
I walk away; luckily this affair will not last for more than a day.
We were never friends in the first place. I know I will be made a disgrace among her peers; my love for you will be leaving nothing more than a smear upon your dignity.
I do not give you pity for the way you feel, however, I do begin to pace for putting myself in such a place, I only wanted for you to know what I wanted to say.
Why did I fall in love with you anyway?

The Little Puppy Dog.

Everyday I walk past the pet store.
Everyday I walk past the pet store, and look in the murky window.
There is a little puppy dog wagging its tail, giving me its own little show.
Everyday I return there without fail.
But one day when I looked through the glass, the sight I saw there left me aghast.
The little puppy dog had taken flight, and left behind its little friend which was as dark as night.
"It must be so lonely," I hung my head knowingly.
The dog which lay there turned its snout south, and slightly opened its mouth.
I had also dealt with this sort of loss, I wondered how much he cost.
I felt myself kneeling so my eyes were at its height; the little puppy dog looked at me in fright.
"I'll give you a home." I smiled; the puppy dog appeared to be in denial if that was possible for such a thing. Yet when I went inside and picked it up in my arms it looked like it could sing… Yet that isn't possible for such a thing.
Instead it let out a little whine, thus exclaiming that it was mine.
I was going to be late to work, but I'm sure they could give in to such a perk.
I strapped a collar around its neck, this only took a sec. I was thinking of a name for him when the shop owner said that he was in fact a she.
I decided to call her by the name of my lost housemate.
And at thus I named the little puppy dog Kate.

The Five Coloured Balloons.

On Monday, she brought a yellow balloon to school. I don't know, did she seem to think it was cool? It bopped up and down as she walked, and floated freely as she talked.
"Why did you bring that?" I spat, pointing mockingly at the radiant orb. I didn't seem to hit a chord. She smiled, "Yellow is a happy colour, as it is a Monday it seems the day won't get much better."
I raised my eyebrow.
"Am I supposed to feel happy now?" I stammered, eyeing the balloon with an unnecessary suspicion.
"Look at it," she says, "Doesn't it fill you up with joy?"
I shook my head and left her looking oddly coy, staring at the balloon with a strange joy.

On Tuesday, she brought a green one; again I approached her, trying to solve this anon.
"What's the green for?" I found myself asking.
"The green's for feelings deep inside of us growing like the trees and grass outside."
I felt a smile creep across my face, and I walked away with a selflessly slow pace.

On Wednesday, you brought in another balloon, this one completely blue. This time I approached cautiously, your face staring anxiously.
"Blue's a sad colour isn't it?" I frowned at her, you could say this time my thoughts were a blur. She shook her head.
"This blue is a colour to mend." she explained, "Like the rain nourishes nature and the city, once again." You motioned outside, where the rain hit the window and would slide down.
I suddenly saw the day differently, like you had been sent with your silly balloons like an angel, considerately.
"Thank you," I spluttered, yet scarcely more than muttered. And a grin spread wide from ear to ear on the both of us, I left before I turned into a lot of gooey mush.

On Thursday, you brought an orange colored balloon. I leaped to her side, and she smiled.
"Orange is for the wild and vibrant feelings spreading forth across us all." she said, answering my question before it had been said. I beamed at the brilliance of it, and I waved and bounded away before I broke out into a fit.

On Friday, you brought a purple balloon.
"It brings the passions of red and the mending of blue together, and it creates purple, the colour of accepting and realizing new feelings and experiences." she told me, when I crossed your path that fair day.
When I was walking towards her at the end of that day, I asked her which balloons she would have on Saturday and Sunday. She smirked and said that she didn't have any balloons for those days yet.
"What?" I cried in disbelief, "What does your book or whatever say about it?"
"What book?" she laughed, "I made it all up!"
As I stared at her, my mouth gaping wide, she threw her hands up into the air and the purple balloon flew upwards into the sky, my face turned from disbelief into hesitation as I watched the balloon float by.
"Why did you do that?" I stammered.
"Just like every balloon, our feelings are free!" she chuckled, staring at me, "And now it can fly up high for the whole world to see!"
I was lost for words; I watched cautiously as the balloon narrowly missed a flock of birds. The purple balloon was soon a small dot. I breathed in deeply, and noticed suddenly, that I felt free.
"Don't tell me you didn't know that?" she asked, now the one looking amazed.
I did not reply, but instead let out a sigh.
"You have no idea how much you've helped me."
She blinked, then showed me the smile I longed to see.
Something about what she said next made me feel like I could of flown.

"It wasn't me, you figured it all out on your own."

Little thing.
I thought it was just a little thing,
The way you held me, the way you smiled,
And I was enjoying every bit of it all the while.
I thought the feelings wouldn't grow,
Yet here they are, don't you know?
You're the reason I wake up and look forward to the next day,
I often pray that you would feel the same way.
You lit a treacherous fire in my heart;
It will still burn even if we were to part.
I thought it was just a little thing,
How very wrong I had been.

Keeping Distance.

"Dude, you've got to tell her before she leaves."
"Bugger off, I'll tell her when I'm ready."
"Just remember… take things steady." he gives me a wink.
"You idiot, I'm not doing it just for a kick."
"What's the point bloody point of it then?"
I felt like throwing him into a pig pen.
I stormed off, but he followed me, yet again.
"Have you ever talked to her before?"
"Don't ask me that, you saw."
"She's leaving tomorrow, did you know?"
I stop in my tracks, why doesn't anybody ever tell me the facts?
"No I didn't, you bastard! Why didn't you tell me!?"
"Well I thought you of all people would have known, you see?"
No I don't, I thought, running my fingers through my hair, feeling very-
"Nervous?" You ask, jogging beside me.
I jumped into my car and shoved in the keys.
I drove off without him; I didn't need to hear comments as dim.
I'm feeling edgy, now I just need to make myself ready.
I stop and jump out the car; I can see her house isn't very far.
I sprint towards her house, I can see her looking out her window, wearing a white see through blouse, I can feel myself becoming slightly aroused.
I shake my head, forcing such thoughts out of there, bringing back an undeniable dread.
She sees me staring, I find myself no longer caring, caring for the fears I felt.
She leaped out her window, her hair and skirt flying with her.
There was an uncertainty in her face, another feeling which was hard to place.
"I wanted to tell you before you leave…" I began, fingering my shirt's ripped sleeve. "That I- I-" I was stumbling like never before. I'm sure she saw what I was there for.
"You…?" she said, egging me on.
Suddenly I knew my fears and uncertainties were gone.
"I love you!" I finally gasped. She ran close to me, and with her delicate fingers, my hair she grasped.
Suddenly, our lips came to meet, and the kiss was long and sweet. She tugged gently at my hair, and I understood the feelings we both shared.

Shared together, near and far, no matter how long we would be apart.

I saw you there.

I saw you there hiding behind anxiety,
You were the one crying out to me,
"Help me, help me please, I want to die."
I sadly noted hearing you cry,
"Please, no, you're better than this."
Why, such words can so simply go a miss.
You don't listen to what I say.
I wished you would, one day.
Then I could see the smile that lifts me up inside,
No longer needing to see you be snide,
Against the world you see so clearly as cruel,
I don't want to see you drown in your pool of sorrows,
your happiness, the world carelessly borrows.
And I saw you there on the edge of that bridge.
I saw you jump. I missed only by a smidge.
I thought I could of saved you.
I thought I could of gotten rid of your despair.
But even so... I saw you there.

World War Three

I shut myself in my room. I throw the door to a close.
What do I hear? Kicking and screaming,
Smashing and banging, when will it go away?
I cover my ears and pull my quilt over my head,
I hope the darkness will comfort me,
I lay alone in my bed, listening.
More crashing and clattering,
And silence.
I take a peek from underneath my sheets.
More silence.
I tread carefully towards my door,
It creaks open.
I shut my eyes tight and hoped that there would be,
Nothing wrong with them, the fighting three.
My eyes opened wide, my whole body petrified,
For lying on the ground I see,
The gore,
The dead bodies of the fighting three.