just what the title says…the web isn’t just for the sane anymore
The painting is titled Broken with its accompanying poem, Mended. Another product of high school.
If I love you,
would you let me in?
Let me crawl through
the cracks in your heart
like hot glue?
Mend away the past?
If you would,
then I will
love you.
One from waaaaay back in the day, found it in one of my old journals…and contrary to what some may believe, I really was writing about chocolate 
Pure Milk Chocolate
The sensations of pure rich chocolate,
A touch of the sensually smooth and creamy texture of milk
Carefully blended together to create,
Without imperfections,
That which we call pure milk chocolate
Producing a mild cocoa bean complexion
With a rich creamy, yet silken texture
But be it as it may, looking could never suffice
To comprehend that which is pure milk chocolate
One must partake in its sensuality
And to partake is to taste
And to taste is to experience
Not just experience, but relax and enjoy
While it melts on the tongue
With just a hint of sweetness lingering on the lips
How easily it flows down the throat
And from there, it can reach out to each,
To every part of the body
Racing through the veins
Making the heart pound wildly
Disturbing the mind in waves of passion
Creating visions of compulsive desires
And in its bombastic way,
Grips the soul, which will not be readily released
Establishing a warm, sweet, comfortingly friendly trust
That only pure milk chocolate can.
March 3
The moon is nice and full, hidden by the lacey gray clouds of night. The night birds usually come out and sing me to sleep, except tonight. I can’t sleep tonight. I don’t feel like it. I worry. I worry about what I will do tomorrow to get the attention and popularity I want. My mind is cluttered with images of all the popular people and from what I see I have a long way to go. It’s this late in the school year and I’m still asking myself what makes me so different from the other kids. The wind just shifted and blew through the treetops, it caught my attention. Why can’t I be like the wind? Just blow through the treetops once in a while and have no other bothers. Once I get to the place they call school, an educational pit of learning. I look around me, I observe what no other person cares to look at. I see parents making their children kiss them on the cheek. Why? So that they could be reassured that their child loves them? I see people looking at me and I often wonder what they’re thinking. Oh, what I would give to see and hear and think through someone else, not just me. A black cat crossing nearly being hit by a car catches my eye. What a beautiful and graceful cat, blending into the scenery going unnoticed by those who do not care to look. To be as agile as a cat and not have to worry about what the trolls roaming the halls might think. The lacey black clouds covering the moon have shifted to show off the moon’s glorious glow. Soft and yellow. Perfect for a wish. The same wish I’ve wished for the past four years of my life and I still believe someday it will come true. To see like other people see, to hear like other people hear, not always have to see everything, and not always have to hear everything. My heart sags and my breath comes harder as I watch the pendulum of unwanted-ness near my chest. Every minute I look at all the faces in my learning center, I feel deep warm tears. I fall asleep as small droplets of rain hit my window and I drift off to my land of slumber and dreams where all I want comes true and at least I have a false happiness instead of none.
The comfort of sleep
The call of my dreams
Where all as you know it
Is not as it seems
He seemed so cool and debonair when I laid my eyes on him. He was sitting at his desk, diligently doing his work and trying arduously not to look in my direction. Maybe it was a sign that I was not to be looking or even thinking of having a chance with him, but something deep within me couldn’t resist. The joy of the hunt, that’s what it could have been. I could feel my body rise to the challenge, it felt like I was doing everything in my power to catch his glance, only with no avail. There, it was quick and direct! Though it seemed like forever, it only lasted no more than three seconds, but we saw each other. We looked right into each others’ eyes, yet, it seemed I was out of my league and he wanted nothing do with my kudos of him. The hunt had begun.
The world around me is no mere world hanging in space,
The world is a sick and twisted joke from the mind of…
Sometimes I have pity for the shamed who have no pity for me
When they think me shamed.
I never see the same thing twice.
I explore what I can because I know nothing is forever.
I see details.
I hear the cries that no one else hears, but
I also hear the joy around me.
I smell the sour and decaying world everyone else smells,
But I also smell the sweetness everyone else forgets.
I taste the bitterness of hate that no one can get rid of,
But I savor the creaminess of pleasure because there is so little.
I experience what I touch and
Remember it may be the last time I ever touch it again.
I grip all I can because nothing’s a reality,
It’s all an obscure vision blown by the wind.
Though I think this world a pebble falling for an everlasting lifetime
I cherish its wonder.
if i lay alone
trying to clear my head
an image floats by
faded by time
happy at first
but then bathing me in sadness
because i know i will never have that image back
then another flies by
and i start to wonder why they had to go
and more images swirl by
too many for me to count
gathering in my mind
each one foggier than the last
bits and pieces collecting in my mind
until i no longer know fantasy from reality
and just as easily as they came, they blow away
leaving me with wet eyes
and a handful of lost memories
The scene appears normal, and your classmates continue to carry on as usual and life goes on. Next to you, calmly doing the assignment that was given by the teacher, is probably the most tactful student of the bunch…
…but did you know about the conversations that are heard inside his head? finish reading »