a flower that blooms in the winter but does not last very long

Words whispered along the neck, of an enchanted vine
of flowers not yet bloomed but closer than it seems
they grow and grow, bulbs sprouting color forming
but to late is the season and the cold rushes in
these beautiful buddlets are ready to escape
so on the last days that they may live they show
there faces quiet but proud to the world
on their only days of life.

Snow drops.

Ambition vs. Weakness

So it has been a long day, and already a long winter. Each time winter rolls about it seems my temper is shorter and my emotions are greater. I realize now that obviously money cannot buy you happiness or time with your father; no matter how much you try to stall and keep the time going. I am going to have to accept the fact that families aren't always conveniently next door, and we can't always be with them whenever we want to. I have learned this the hard and painful way, and am still learning this.
Well as far as the ambition side of my selected title above, my ambitions are at a stand still or a fickle fork in the road. I can accel as we all strive to, but no that side of me stays silenced in the back of my persona being portrayed as weak. We don't fraternize with positive ambition in these parts. Instead of living above the stereotype of teenagers, i conform. I decide that my youth years are better spent enjoyed, regardless of the later consequences. I am still in the state of denial but i'm working on it.
As far as family goes, i'm going to have to buck up and bear it. No matter how much i want everyone's attention i cannot have any of it if my intentions are greedy.
All that is left for me to do now is breath. Ambition will grow and become the more dominant sector of my personality and soon i will rise past that damned stereotype; prove my peers wrong while also maintaining a fun-filled social life. So readers i advise you to go clear the space of your living room floor, turn on some slow jazz, or meditation tunes and tones, and breath for a minute or two. With each breath in hold a stressful memory, thought, or problem that lies in your chest, before you; and with your outward breath release it. Let it flow past you. It no longer controls you or has the power to force tears from your eyes; now you are free. If you must go listen to bad old music that makes you cry, or any music that forces the tears of memories out; allowing your heart to let go is the way to allowing your soul to have peace. So my probable audience of most likely zero, have a wondrous november evening breathing. Night.

Crayons

Kindergarten, the days where summers shown bright
ice cream our delight,
rarely did we fight,
over more than turns,
running round the ferns,
girls that whispered, laughed and cried,
boys that taunted, girls despise,
memories that never end,
to that sandbox i'll go again,
back to dolls and playing blocks,
now its clicks that cheat and talk,

oh i long for those days,
where all we ever did was play,
all we ever see is sad,
those days we weren't so bad,
then we smiled now we sneer,
hard feelings took over any near,

back to crayons that occupied hands,
where we drew this once free land,
now its different not the same,
now life is the hardest game.

Winter

What i think when i hear such words;
grace, beauty, simplicity, romance, hot chocolate, trees with ice leaves.
What i would like that word to mean for me; love, happiness, warmth internally, benefits.
Within my heart lies a Cali girl, born and raised and then relocated. My heart is buried in that sand, and always will be, belong side my childhood memories. The snow flakes fall so slow and endlessly, i stand facing the sky, tongue out; spinning. Others hate this state, and wish for something exciting, but this is all i need, this is all i yearn for. The safety and security promised, the comfy feel, neighbors that say hello back. Smiling faces that never seem to falter. I love you Utah, don't ever change.

Pass at a stereotype

She used to laugh

And now she cries

She just can’t see what they despise

She tries ever so hard

For her acceptance discard

So she’ll see the days

The days where you spend your time crying,

Watching the outside seeing happiness, spying,

Wondering why, so hard you try,

And still

They

Don’t see,

How hard you try to be

Something good.

The days were slow, and now they’re fast,

Days of smiles and happy disposition past,

You see how long it took,

To capture the popular look,

Useless.

FYI

I have recently posted up a couple of things so just so you know, some may not reflect how i feel and are simply works of the past. :)

Foolish

No love no care for personal emotion

No understanding

No feelings

Nothing left for me

Nothing positive in the outcome

And nothing left after attempts forted

All that’s left is longing

Only fear of what could have been

And what could have been said

And why there can’t be a better you

Now all I see is longing and loathing

Finally a sprinkle of glory

But the rain feels as though it must come on

Tears welling In thine eyes

Pity gone and self hatred building

Nothing good left

No smiles no congratulations

All that I hath done is wasted

Because you don’t realize I’ve worked so hard for you

To try and be worthy

But still no

The days that came and gone, (an exerpt from my work in progress 'Small Disturbances'

Deeply thinking about the wondrous possibilities that have yet to become true, and yet will probably never be. Sad tears of yearning fill my eyes as I silently sit in the shade beneath a tree, peering down the hill of sugar house park watching children play and chase one another around. My heart stops beating for a moment and then I gasp another few sobs following.  My childhood was never like that I hid behind my chain smoking mother as she attempted some words of comfort on my terrifying and lonely first day of kindergarten.  That was a sad day of realization; that I would never, not be alone.

You don't notice what im noticing.

Be mine,

For the days are short

You could have me

Before the days end,

Before our time has come,

To take our hearts,

Our love and possibilities,

Our years of fun to come,

Will you ever see the way I look at you?

The way I double take when you enter the room,

Every time I look at you a smile crosses my face,

My heart begins to race,

My knees begin to shake,

I can’t understand why you are the way you are,

To me and in my head my imagination does your image no justice,

Your beauty so unique that I fall in shame when I try to think of you,

When I fantasize about you,

I think of nothing else but you,

For you are all that I want and need.

Then…

I fear the dreadful reality of being…

So utterly and fully,

Cliche

Little Girl

So sad

This little girl.

Who sat,

Ever so quietly

Watching life live on around her

And yet she never moved

She never spoke

She never really did much of anything

This little girl wanted everything

From something so simple as a smile

To the most complicated things like learning how to love

To gain and care

How to leep and fly

This little girl has always

And will always

Forever, be alone

Never tasting real glory

Or embracing such possibilities known as love

Never really able to accomplish much of anything

She will forever sit

In that chair

Pondering on things

Such as how to concur air,

And will she be able to do it?...