Looking into me,
melancholy eyes.
Soul on fire.
Your convincing mask.
Never doubted, but by few.
Did you ever find peace?
Someone to love?
The genius of you.
Shining through.
The crown jewel.
A kindred spirit,
in our solitary confinement
of inner turmoil.
Constant churning of thought.
Trying to reconcile,
what people see,
to the soul within.

Jaded. Pretending.
My upside down frown
mistaken for a smile.
Weak. The faint shimmer
that is my soul. Fading.
Show me you see me
so I know I exist.
Touch the realness that is me.
Grounded on this earth.
Searching. Constantly searching.
For meaning. For love. For life.
Passion. What is it?
What does it feel like?
Being consumed.
Not whole, but piece by piece.
Fractured. The fragments of me.
Scattered.
No one wants what's left.
Did not want what was whole.
Unwanted.

Free (another old journal entry)

The evening washes
over me
like a velvet blanket
soft and smooth.
Only in the dark
am I really me.
Only then am I really
free.
Free to be who
I want to be.
I'm not a face.
I'm not a size.
Only in the dark
am I weightless.
Only in the dark
I can fly.
I can soar high
above all,
floating and dancing
to the music in my soul.
Friends with myself,
I laugh out loud
in the moment, giddy.
Giddyness of being free,
free to be just me.

Spirit On The Mend (an old journal entry)

The shards of my broken spirit
lay scattered in the grass,
Hidden in their reflection,
all that has come to pass.

Comforted only by the darkness.
Embracing shadows and obscurity,
I fold it all around me,
a warm blanket of security.

Swimming in the darkness,
nearer to repair,
I gather my broken spirit
flying, soaring through the air.