who am i?

it just makes me think. i can't describe who i am in words, because i'm a torrent of unpredictable emotions and i always change my mind... but what are my goals, aspirations, hopes, dreams? what are my loves and hates? who am i?

fire

raged through her throat, as she felt that she couldn't breathe. unknown things attacked her body, leaving only a shell of what Synthia Smith was before. coughing, sputtering, and feeling like everything was going to end, she began to pray.

the sights

the sights amazed her. she didn't know that going back was going to be this life changing, this epic. green and blue were all she really saw. occasional houses, now and again, but the foliage and the history rang clear and true. the warmth enveloped her with something she hadn't felt for a long time: happiness. true bliss spread through her body and radiated into her soul, washing away her fears and pains, the negative energies, and the bad thoughts in her mind. she was home.


diary entry:
i had the chance to be innocent once again, to be myself. to go without the sarcastic remarks and to open my eyes to the things surrounding me. i got to see people as they truly were, and i didn't like what i saw for the most part. now i yearn, ache, and cry to go back home.

f'shooooooooo

a squeal in the audience snapped her back into attention. "move! get out there!" hissed the people behind her, "you're holding everyone back!"

nervously, she walked down the aisle, hoping that during her performance she wouldn't mess up. watching the director intently, she focused and went into her own world.

claps and cheers burst from the audience. they liked it! she smiled and looked at the person beside her, grinning from ear to ear.

today

she wanted to scream, and scream she did. no one heard her, right? she was no one and no one cared. her family was gone, wasted away. her friends, they left years ago. her boy, what boy? there was nothing wrong, but all of the pent up anger and sadness was finally catching up. it was here, it was waiting. albeit patiently, but it was still there. and something snapped.

the floodgates opened, and hell hath no fury than a woman scorned.

good life

denial. anger. bargaining. acception.
there's no reason for me to look at this, but it kind of pertains to my life right now.
denial: i'm in a rut, i know it. but i can't accept it. there's this nagging feeling in the back of my head that there's something wrong with me, but i can't ever come out with it.
anger: i'm angry at the wrong things, and at the wrong people. mostly the people that are the closest to me. what i used to pride myself in: my patience and kind disposition, it's gone. yes, i'm still me, but who am i?
bargaining: i'll trade this for that. i'll take yours if you take what i have. usually i deal things and i cheat people. but why am i doing this? am i who i wanted to become?
acception: i am not who i wanted to become. maybe certain aspects, but i didn't know life to be like this.


i didn't know that one day certain songs are going to make me cry. that some people are going to leave a gaping hole in my chest, left to fester. i didn't know that one day that certain topics were going to make me cry. that certain faces were going to leave me bawling. i didn't know that one day people were going to walk out of my life because they turned out wrong. i didn't know people were going to walk out at all. i didn't know that one day i'm going to be left alone to think about who i was, because back then i knew who i was, and what i wanted to do.

now i'm lost, and confused. i can say that. the outside shows that i'm happy, and that i'm carefree, but on the inside i know that there's something wrong. i know that i can say that i can keep it hidden, that there's nothing wrong with me. but is there really? i seem like a drama queen, i know. the world revolves around me. but really, i don't think that.

i don't think anyone really knows who i am, even me. i'm striving to find myself, though. and i think i'm finding myself. both on the inside and out.

time

Flutterby, butterflies.

But before you fly away,

can you tell me the date today?

Time flies by so fast,

but trickles by ever so slowly.

Butterflies, flutterby.

I remember your flight,

but not when you flew away.